For a heartbeat, surprise swept over me.
Then instinct kicked in, and I locked everything down.
The woman suspended within the projection resembled Mia almost perfectly.
Almost.
Yet something was off.
Very off.
Instead of Mia's familiar short brown hair, this woman's hair flowed long and black like liquid night, drifting even though there was no wind. Her eyes were not the light, deceptively innocent blue I remembered. They were deep violet—old, sharp, and heavy with a confidence that didn't need validation.
Mia could be arrogant.
But next to this woman?
Mia's arrogance looked… childish.
Unrefined.
"Who is she?" I asked slowly. "And why are you showing her to me?"
Soul One didn't answer immediately.
Which, coming from him, was already an answer.
The projection shifted.
The woman smiled.
Not kindly.
Not cruelly.
Possessively.
The kind of smile you give to something you already own, even if it doesn't know it yet.
"…That's definitely," I said slowly.
Soul One hummed, clearly pleased. "Good. You're paying attention."
"Then who is it?" I asked, "And why does she look like my worst mistake got an upgrade?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Which, from him, meant he was enjoying this.
"That," he said at last, far too casually, "is Miriam Elderblood."
The name echoed.
Not loudly—but deeply, like reality had decided it was important whether I liked it or not.
"She's an ancient demon," Soul One continued, lounging mid-void like this was casual conversation. "Her speciality is soul magic, reincarnation, and parallel existence."
I stared.
Then I laughed.
Short. Disbelieving.
"You're telling me," I said, "that Mia—the obsessive lunatic who ruined my life—was actually an ancient demon?"
"An incarnation," Soul One corrected. "One of many."
The projection fractured.
Hundreds—no, thousands—of images bloomed outward like a web.
Different faces.
Different bodies.
Different races.
Different eras.
Girls.
Women.
Children.
Nobles.
Slaves.
Saints.
Sinners.
All smiling the same way.
All wrong in the same way.
"Miriam Elderblood does not reincarnate as mortals do," Soul One explained. "She divides. Splits her soul across countless vessels. Each incarnation grows independently, gathering experience, influence & memories."
The images pulsed faintly.
"When one incarnation dies," he continued, "the knowledge returns to the core. When one thrives, the others benefit. When one falls in love—"
The smile on Miriam's face sharpened.
"—it becomes… complicated."
Cold crept into my chest.
The images pulsed again, threads connecting them all.
"Thousand Incarnations," he added. "At least. Possibly more."
My stomach sank.
"So Mia Darkheart," I said carefully, "wasn't just some rich psychopath."
"No," Soul One agreed. "She was another incarnation. Young. Emotionally unstable. Possessive without the restraint experience brings."
I clenched my fists. "She killed me."
"Yes," Soul One said, smirking. "That instability manifested as obsession."
The projection zoomed in on one image.
Mia.
Short brown hair. Light blue eyes. Familiar smile.
That same smile I'd seen under the truck's headlights.
"If you're not mine—"
I swallowed.
"She fixated on you," Soul One continued. "Not because you were special. But because you resisted."
"That's not reassuring."
"It shouldn't be."
The image shifted again—zooming outward this time, showing a vast lattice of glowing threads extending from Miriam Elderblood's core.
A web.
Each thread pulsed faintly.
"What you're looking at," Soul One said, "is her greatest achievement."
He paused, as if savouring the discomfort.
"The Web of a Thousand Incarnations."
I felt cold.
"Each incarnation is a node," he explained. "They don't constantly share awareness—that would drive even a demon insane. But when something… unusual happens…"
One thread glowed brighter.
"…the web reacts."
I didn't like where this was going.
"Mia killing me," I said slowly, "was unusual."
"Yes."
"And me reincarnating?"
"Extremely."
"And me surviving a forbidden skill activation?"
Soul One's smile sharpened slightly.
"Noticeable."
I dragged a hand down my face. "So she knows."
"No," he said. "Not yet."
I exhaled.
"But she will," he added pleasantly.
"…When."
He tilted his head. "Depends on how loudly you exist."
I laughed under my breath. "Fantastic. I'm officially screwed."
"Not at the moment," Soul One said, "since you're quiet. My Edict's Soul Obscurity blurs you. To her web, which means you're an inconsistency."
He looked at me directly.
"She dislikes those."
Of course she does.
I paced once, then stopped. "So let me get this straight."
I ticked off points with my fingers.
"I'm reincarnated illegally. I triggered forbidden mechanics. I'm now on the radar of cosmic busybodies. And somewhere out there is an ancient demon ex-girlfriend with a distributed surveillance network across reality."
Soul One nodded. "You learn quickly. That's a reasonable danger estimate."
"That's not reassuring."
"It's accurate."
"So I'm dead," I said flatly.
"Eventually," Soul One said cheerfully. "Yes."
I stared at him.
"…You're not helping."
"Oh, I am," he replied. "You're still breathing."
I laughed weakly. "So the mission. Protecting the Chosen. That's not just about saving the world."
"Yes," Soul One said. "It's about saving your own skin as well."
That caught my attention.
He gestured, and the projection shifted again—this time overlaying two images.
The Chosen One.
And Miriam's web.
"They are moving in overlapping trajectories," Soul One explained. "Fate clusters attract attention. The Chosen's growth will distort causality. That distortion will mask other anomalies."
He looked at me.
"You."
I tilted my head, which looked kind of annoyed him.
"In simple terms, when destiny moves," Soul One said, "it creates noise. Interference. Attention. Chaos."
"Ohh... and I hide in it," I muttered.
"Yes."
"So while everyone's watching him—"
"You remain uninteresting."
I snorted. "I've always been motivated to stay irrelevant."
"So if I stay near him—"
"You hide in the noise," Soul One finished. "Interference targeting him provides you with cover. Opportunities. Conflict-scaled growth."
I frowned. "You're saying make his destiny acts like a camouflage for me."
"Yes."
"And my job is to… what. Fight his enemies from the shadows?"
"Exactly. Equivalent exchange, you see."
"Fair enough."
Silence stretched.
Then I asked the question I'd been avoiding.
"If she finds me."
Soul One didn't joke this time.
"Then you run."
"From something that has a network all over the world."
"Yes."
"That's so powerful, I can't even imagine."
"Yes."
I stared at him.
"…I hate this."
"You're surviving," he said. "That's your dream."
I took a long breath.
"…Fine," I said finally. "I'll do it."
Soul One's amusement was immediate.
Not triumphant.
Satisfied.
"You'll protect the Chosen," he said lightly.
"I'll avoid getting erased," I snapped. "If those overlap, great."
He laughed, pleased in a deeply irritating way.
"Oh, this worked out nicely."
"I hate that tone."
"Of course you do." He leaned back, lounging again as if the real conversation was only starting. "Good. Now that you've agreed—"
"…There's more," I said flatly.
"Always is," Soul One replied cheerfully. "Let's discuss how to survive while standing next to a walking destiny-approved trouble magnet."
I groaned.
The void shifted.
And I had the unpleasant certainty that this was only the beginning of a very long, very unfair arrangement.