Dancing on the golden ashes

"Gaon...?" the demon woman said calmly, though her voice trembled. She couldn't understand what had just happened. The one she had called a traitor—had just protected her.

"Kaelthira... you're still alive. Good..." my phantom spoke, ignoring me completely. I watched as the demon—apparently named Kaelthira—teared up. She looked at the other me with an expression that bordered on worship.

"How? Why?"

"It doesn't matter," the phantom said. "What matters is that you stay alive. You need to lead the demons to victory. Not her. You."

My brow twitched at those words. So that's it. The past me had no desire for me to rise this far.

"What about her then? Wasn't she part of your plan? Why is the world accepting her and taking the power away from me?! Look at her! This isn't right!" Kaelthira's panic was real. I could feel myself growing stronger with every passing second. But even with this overwhelming energy, I hadn't yet reached the Immortal Emperor realm. My soul container—it was a void. An empty vessel being filled rapidly, yet never full. Never enough.

"She's just a pawn in a bigger game. I can take her powers away and give them to you. After all… you saved me. I owe you my life."

"Funny," I said, my voice cold. "My own phantom is rebelling against me. But let me make one thing clear. I'm not you. I reject you. I am Lee Gaon. I am the Empress of all demons. And all of you will kneel before me. And you—" I pointed at the specter. "You're just a ghost. So die, and let me be myself."

"She's right."

Another phantom stepped in front of me. The presence was familiar—burned into the marrow of my soul.

"You're alive...?" I asked, hesitant, my voice lower than I expected.

"Do you think that trash could kill me for good?" the eerie voice replied with a snort. "I thought I taught you better. Pfft."

Then she laughed. That haunting, twisted laugh that had followed me all this way—part warning, part promise.

I missed that, in a way. Sometimes, it felt lonely without that voice constantly telling me I suck, that all my choices are wrong. It was annoying—so damn annoying—but she was my mentor. In her own twisted way. And today… something extremely eerie was about to happen. I could feel it already. The same soul, split in two, backing two different sides.

This might end in a fight to the death after all.

The phantom standing by Kaelthira was young. Sharp. Her presence was fierce, like a flame that hadn't yet learned fear. Her eyes gleamed with ambition, her silhouette pulsing with unstable, rising power—as if she'd just been born from a storm of rage and hunger. She looked like me… if I had chosen to abandon everything for raw control.

The one beside me, though… she was calm. Worn. Her robes were tattered at the ends, her eyes dimmer—but not dull. They held weight. Memory. A thousand regrets, but also pride. She didn't stand like a warrior anymore. She stood like a teacher. Tired, but certain.

They stared at each other like two branches split from the same root. One still fighting to grow wild. The other—knowing how the story ends.

"How is this even possible...? I don't remember ever splitting myself in two," the phantom beside Kaelthira murmured, her voice soft, confused. "Is this some trick of the realm?"

"No trick," the other phantom said coolly—the one at my side, her tone steadier, older, honed by time and hardship. "You're simply the version of me that died too early to understand what came next."

"What are you implying?"

"That you're the naïve half. The one clinging to failed loyalties and broken dreams. Still chasing a throne that crumbled the day we died."

"Then what does that make you?" the younger phantom snapped. "Some corrupted shadow trying to rewrite fate?"

"No. It makes me the one who saw it through. The one who lived long enough to see what our choices became."

"You're lying! If you're truly me... then you should obey! I made my choice first. My allegiance came first!"

"And it was the wrong one." Her voice dropped, laced with cold certainty. "You sided with weakness. With someone who's already lost. This world has already begun choosing its new master... and it isn't her."

"She's the one who saved me! She kept the memory of what we were!"

"She kept your memory," the elder phantom corrected. "Not ours. Not what I became after. Not the Empress she was meant to be."

"This girl? Her? You expect me to believe she's more than a vessel?"

"Not a vessel. A culmination." The older phantom looked at me then, eyes flickering with pride and sorrow. "She is everything we tried to become… and more."

"You're insane. A delusion given form."

"And you," the older one snapped, "are a fossil choking on nostalgia."

The realm trembled slightly, as if the clash of voices alone cracked the foundations beneath us.

And honestly… I was starting to get a headache.

"It's impossible. We both know our world is dead."

"No," the one by my side said, shaking her head slowly.

"What?!"

"It's been restored... and reset. That means she's the original one after all. You and I—we're just echoes. Ghosts of a past that was never meant to exist."

I could see the shock rise not only on the face of the phantom, but also on the original demon. They were flabbergasted. Most likely scared to death. To restore and reset the world was likely a feat not everyone could achieve. So those words must've shaken her to the core… but also… me.

So… I'm still the same Gaon as her, after all. Which means, every person I know today was once part of that world too. When she said she left all of them for him—that must mean my group, doesn't it? But... what about the Creator? Who is he? Did I kill him? Or… was he already saved by the old ghost? What is it? Who is the Creator in my life?