Fate To Fake: Loved by the Fallen; Fated to Kill the Divine

Inside Leo's house, in the living room,

Ssshhhh~

Faint red particles shimmered through the air like fireflies caught in a slow breeze. The walls, furniture, and shattered pieces of the once-ruined room all began to mend themselves, reversing time's damage with an eerie glow.

The bloodstains vanished, broken wood realigned and fused, torn curtains stitched together, and even the cracks in the windows healed until everything was as it had been—untouched.

In the centre of that silent restoration sat Leo, slumped on the sofa, his body enveloped in a dim green hue.

As the last of the glowing particles dissolved into the air, the colour around his body faded, leaving his skin whole again—his fractured bones mended, his swollen lip sealed, and every bruise erased like a bad dream.

He opened his tired eyes, slowly raising one hand to his face, blinking as he noticed the faint shimmer still lingering on his fingertips. Then his gaze dropped to the single green ruin stone resting in his palm—the last one he had. He held it tightly for a moment, then quietly slid it into his pocket.

Just as he looked up, he froze.

There, a few feet away, stood a figure cloaked in worn robes. The hood was drawn low, hiding its face completely, but Leo could feel the stranger's eyes studying him from within.

His voice came low and cautious, face twisted in a weary smirk. "Who are you?"

The figure remained motionless, the silence stretching uncomfortably until finally, in a calm, composed tone, it responded, "I am your guardian, Master Leo. There is no need to be afraid of me… I am here only to protect you."

As the figure bowed its head slightly in respect, Leo squinted, still catching his breath.

"Protect me?" he repeated, scoffing lightly. "Why would you protect me? And more importantly—show your face. I can't trust someone who hides behind a hood."

The figure didn't move. The shadows beneath its hood remained still, unreadable.

"Even after I've already helped you? Not only now but also before?" it asked.

Leo narrowed his eyes. "Before?"

The figure gave a small nod. "Yes. I was the one who carried you and the little vampire girl to the temple... back when both of you were lying broken on the ground. If I wanted to harm you, I could have done so back then. I had every opportunity. But I didn't."

Leo's brows twitched. That memory came back to him like a flickering candle in the dark. Ophis, unconscious beside him… the cold, moonlit ground… how he suddenly found himself in the temple later with no idea how he got there.

"So please," the figure continued, its tone soft yet firm, "don't ask me anything else. I've come here for one reason only—to protect you."

Leo sighed heavily, his fingers tightening into a fist.

He didn't want to admit it, but they were right. He didn't have many choices right now. Whoever this person was, they had saved him. If not for them… he would've been—

Leo clenched his jaw, recalling the brutal image of Dracula's foot slamming toward his head… the overpowering force… and Ophis… being taken away right in front of his helpless eyes.

'I..I need to do something!'

His thoughts burned like fire through his skull.

But what could he do?

He didn't have any weapons, no plans, no allies he could fully rely on. If Pride had been here… maybe she could have done something.

He was alone now.

Even Valra—he couldn't bring himself to ask her for help. The thought of dragging her into Dracula's path terrified him more than facing it alone.

He wasn't strong enough. Not for this... And certainly not to risk someone he cared about.

'Sigh… I can't do anything at all, can I?'

He leaned forward and buried his face into his hand, rubbing his forehead with a pained expression. His eyes, heavy with defeat, drifted toward the cloaked figure still standing silently in the room.

"Are you… a champion?" he asked quietly.

"You can say that…" the figure replied.

Leo tilted his head slightly, still staring. "Then who is your Master?"

The question seemed to pause time. The figure didn't answer right away.

"... Sorry," it said eventually. "I cannot tell you that."

Leo didn't push it. He just shook his head and leaned back into the sofa with a tired grunt, knocking his knuckles softly against his temple. His mind swirled in confusion, frustration, fear… and guilt.

He wanted to help Ophis.

But how?

He chuckled bitterly to himself. "Haha… hah… can I even help her in the first place?" he muttered under his breath.

He stood up, swaying slightly. His legs wobbled as if weighed down by something far heavier than fatigue—guilt. Shame. Helplessness. He dragged himself out of the living room, his face blank, expression drained.

The figure simply watched, unmoving.

Leo's lips trembled as he walked. His mind began to drift again, not to the fight, but to his past. To the orphanage. To the faces that once smiled at him. To the people who loved him… who left. One by one. Like they were vanishing in smoke.

He couldn't stop them then either.

Nothing had changed in this new world. Even here… he was still just a spectator. Watching as everything slipped through his fingers.

Thud!

His foot caught on the stairs, and he stumbled, crashing against the rail with a thud. His breath caught in his throat.

"I-I'm fine!" he blurted, grabbing the railing tightly.

Behind him, the figure had moved. A hand had nearly caught him. Almost. But Leo had stopped himself just in time.

He slowly straightened, gripping the railing hard, breathing heavy. His head turned, locking eyes with the hooded figure.

"If you want to laugh, go ahead," he said through clenched teeth. "I'm just a pathetic idiot… all bark, but no action!…"

He didn't even know why he was yelling. Why he was venting all this to someone who barely even spoke.

Maybe he just needed someone—anyone—to say it back. To blame him. To confirm that it was all his fault.

Again!

But instead…

"I won't."

The figure's voice was soft but unwavering. It walked up and helped him stand properly, holding his shoulder with surprising warmth.

"It doesn't matter what others say.... Or what you've come to believe about yourself. You're not pathetic.

You're not just talk. Not at all."

Leo stared at them in disbelief, "You talk like you know me?"

The figure continued,

"I may not know every detail of what happened to you… but I see someone who got dragged into something terrible, without warning, and still tries to survive.

Even when you were broken, outmatched, terrified… You still stood up. You faced Dracula—someone even Stage 3 mages wouldn't dare to fight—and you didn't run."

"You're a hero.... My hero."

It took a breath.

"So don't you dare lose your grip now. My hero…

She said— ahem, I mean I said it, with my whole heart."

Leo blinked, stunned by the sudden intensity of those words.

"Hero… ha…?" he muttered, looking at the cloaked figure as though seeing them for the first time. "Just how long have you known me…?"

The figure didn't respond.