The world tilted.
Reo stood frozen in the hallway, the roar of footsteps and distant chatter melting into static. Yua Kanzaki—his one ally, his rare sliver of peace in this chaotic reincarnated life—was gone. Not vanished, not missing. Compromised.
He had seen manipulation before. Seen men twist lies into weapons, witnessed puppeteers pull strings with the elegance of gods. But this was different.
This was personal.
Doraemon paced behind him in Reo's room, his face uncharacteristically pale. "We should tell the government—maybe even Time Patrol. If someone's using a Possession Collar, that's—"
"No." Reo's voice was flat, deadly. "We tell no one. Not yet."
Doraemon stopped. "Why not?"
Reo turned to him slowly. "Because if Caius wanted me to know… it means he's waiting for my reaction. And I won't give him the satisfaction."
He strode to his desk, snapping open the bottom drawer. Inside lay a black notebook—handmade, unmarked, untouched since the day he was reincarnated.
He opened it to the first page.
"Project Salvation."
It was a plan he had drawn up long ago. A roadmap. Not to conquer, not to destroy, but to build. To live in peace. To become one of the world's richest men without blood, without war.
But now?
The game had changed.
Peace would have to wait.
Now came war.
---
Elsewhere
Yua Kanzaki stood in front of a mirror.
Her fingers touched her cheek—then froze. The skin didn't feel like hers. Her reflection smirked, but she hadn't moved. Inside her head, she screamed. But no sound came out.
"Beautiful," said a voice behind her eyes. "You really are exquisite."
Caius.
His consciousness echoed through her skull like oil sliding through glass. His presence was cold, patient, infuriatingly calm.
"You'll be my voice now," he whispered, staring through her reflection. "Reo won't hurt you. He can't. He still believes he can save you."
Yua's real self slammed against her mental prison, fists pounding against the glass wall of her own body.
"But you and I," Caius continued, "we're going to end him."
He touched her lips with her own fingers.
"Smile, actress. The world's watching."
---
Back in Tokyo
The classroom felt suffocating.
Reo sat at his desk, silent, as the teacher droned on about quadratic equations. His eyes weren't on the board—they were on the entrance.
He was waiting.
Sure enough, the door slid open.
And she walked in.
Yua.
Hair styled differently. Eyes shadowed with just the right amount of arrogance. Lips curled in a way that didn't belong to her. The class whispered, gawked, excited. A celebrity in their room.
But Reo didn't flinch.
Because that wasn't Yua.
She walked past him without a glance—until she reached the last row.
Then she stopped.
Turned.
And smiled.
That same damn smile she wore at the gala. But there was no warmth now. No loneliness.
Only mockery.
Caius was saying hello.
---
Later that night
Reo stood on the rooftop again, wind howling against his coat. Doraemon hovered beside him, a hologram flickering in his hand.
"The timeline is holding steady for now," Doraemon muttered. "But if this goes on, Yua's real consciousness might start… degrading."
"I know."
Reo stared into the sky.
"I'm not going to kill her."
"I didn't suggest that."
"But Caius thinks I will. He's testing me. Pushing my morality."
Doraemon looked at him. "Then what are you going to do?"
Reo's eyes narrowed. The wind died down, as if holding its breath.
"I'm going to break her out from the inside."
Doraemon blinked. "How?"
Reo pulled out a small, metallic ring from his pocket—gleaming with sapphire light.
"The Dream Trigger," he said. "A banned gadget that lets two minds connect inside a shared dreamscape."
"You'll be entering her subconscious…"
"And pulling her out manually."
Doraemon hesitated. "You do realize, if Caius finds out—"
"He will."
"And he could trap you both."
Reo turned to him, a slow grin spreading.
"That's the point."
---