Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death

***

{Inside The Projection}

Just like that, the world was gone again.

No more thumps, no more blood, no more warmth from Mahdi's cane, no more... just no more...

All of it was wiped away, swept under the rug of memory.

When Malik opened his eyes, he was back in the void.

Endless, dark, quiet—but not empty.

Not this time.

He blinked once.

Twice.

Thrice

'Hm.'

He wasn't seeing things.

They were actually there.

On one side of the void, there was existence.

A slice of the world had been carved out and pasted into that nothingness.

It was completely bizarre.

There was light. Sand. Laughter. Fire.

A scene of his first dream, only bigger... real.

People.

He saw them too.

Sinbad was running around, entertaining Jasmine, who was hanging off his arm while dragging him and Yusuf around like a queen on a desert shopping spree.

She kicked at the sand, laughing at something no one else understood, her voice bright and warm and so damn alive.

Yusuf rolled his eyes behind her, arms crossed, trying to act cool, but Malik could see the little grin twitching at the corners of his mouth.

Sinbad, of course, kept playing along, acting somewhat similar to Malik.

A little closer to the fire, Faqir sat with Rehan and Hassan, roasting... something. Probably questionable.

They talked like men do when they know they're safe... when nothing could hurt them... maybe even never again.

"Listen~!"

Faqir leaned back with a sigh and a grin that stretched halfway across his beard.

"First time I saw him, he was damn near naked. I don't think he even noticed, walking through the front gates, calm as you please. Not a care in the world. I was out there preaching by the old square, bastard walks up and fucking stares me down!"

He chuckled, shaking his head at the memory.

"I swear, I thought he was about to knife me and run off with the alms pouch."

Rehan nearly choked on his lentils, slapping his chest.

"You serious?"

"Dead."

Faqir nodded.

"Turns out he was just interested, though... Never thought interest could look like that, but whatever, at least it was a memorable first impression~."

Hassan barked out a laugh.

"Sounds about right! That's Malik for you."

Rehan looked at him.

"Wait, you met him just before the campaign, right?"

Hassan groaned.

"Don't remind me. I thought I was picking up a stray, but that stray was picking me up."

"Seriously?! Ahahahahah!

"You should've seen them, man~!"

They laughed as he groaned a second time.

"It was fine at first; he was lying low, or maybe just taking it easy, but when I forced him on a near-impossible mission, he switched things up. I was supposed to be the commander, right? I had the maps, the experience, the men, and the owls. But then this man—just spat out of the Arba'in—starts showing me up in everything. He knew the region better than I did, and everything he said came true. My men started listening to him more than they did me!"

He pointed at the fire in front of him.

"I bet if he told them to jump in this fire, they'd do it, no questions asked!"

Rehan whistled low.

"So he just walked in and took over the show?"

"Didn't even try to."

Hassan muttered while chuckling.

"That's the worst part. No pride in it. No 'bow before me.' He just did what had to be done."

"Hm. That's how it was with us too."

Rehan's smile softened.

"...You know, at first I thought he was racist."

"Pffft!"

Faqir spat out his soup, while Hassan's eyes widened.

"He was what? What did he do? ...I never thought my boy was ignorant like that."

Rehan shook his head while laughing out loud.

"I thought that he was racist... He wasn't."

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Faqir clicked his tongue at him.

"You should've led with that!"

Hassan nodded in agreement while Rehan simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Anyways, you know how it is; most people on the mainland don't like dealing with us easterners, calling us Hexbloods, so it was a bit of a struggle to get enough guards for our journey south."

Faqir patted the man's back while Hassan nodded at him.

There was no need to put what they meant into words.

Rehan, who understood that, acknowledged their support with a look and continued:

"When I went to the stables one morning, I found him there, a bit lost, searching for people to take him south. He looked strong and seemed to be a perfect fit for us, so I approached, but guess what?"

Swallowing down a spoonful of his soup, Faqir chuckled, knowing exactly what happened.

"Did he look at you like he was trying to kill you for talking to him?"

"Exactly!"

Rehan nodded in laughter, and Hassan let out a few chuckles of his own.

"That's just how he is... You said you relate?"

"Ah, yes."

Rehan set down his bowl.

"The change wasn't all that sudden. He always had that haunted look in his eyes, like he'd already seen the worst life had to offer. Didn't say much. Never did. But before we knew it... before I knew it, he was the one holding us together. It felt like he wasn't reacting to what happened—he was just waiting for it. Like he already knew what we'd do, how we'd fall, how we'd get back up."

He paused and tapped his thigh.

"It felt like he knew the future."

Then, he turned his head slightly and winked, not at anyone in particular. Just at the air... At memory.

Hassan let out a wheezing chuckle.

"Hah! That tracks. That man's not right. Not in a bad way, just… you know… unsettling."

"Absolute menace."

Rehan agreed.

"The quiet ones are always the ones you gotta watch."

"Aye."

Faqir gulped down the last of his soup.

"But I wouldn't like him any other way."

Just then, before their agreement could leave their lips—

Thump.

A cane struck the sand behind them, sounding much too close to a heartbeat.

It was the kind of sound that announced presence without words.

The group fell into silence.

They turned as one.

Out of the soft gloom beyond the firelight, a figure emerged...

Mahdi.