I Am The Game's Villain

"..."

Cleenah stood still, her gaze locked onto the events unfolding in Elyen Kiora. Her expression remained unreadable.

Before her eyes, Freyja boldly declared Utopia's aliveness to the entire world, proclaiming that they had been chosen by the gods themselves—blessed. The speech was grand, filled with conviction and hope. But what caught Cleenah's attention most was Edward.

Freyja had dragged him into this.

Edward stood there staring at the Guardian emblem now etched onto his right arm, his expression frozen in dumbfounded awe. He had only wanted to solidify his union with Freyja for Utopia's sake and also stop another war before it could emerge. Yet somehow, that simple desire had spiraled into something far greater—a movement that would shake the world.

He wasn't exactly complaining. If anything, he found himself marveling at how things had escalated so quickly. Still, he hadn't expected this.

Cleenah sighed softly before turning away.

Her time was running out.

There were things she needed to do before the end.

Without another moment's hesitation, she vanished.

The scenery shifted.

Cleenah reappeared in a world bathed in an eerie, pale-green hue. The sky stretched endlessly, painted in the same otherworldly color as the ground beneath her feet. The landscape was surreal—grassy plains shimmering with sublime glow, as if this world existed somewhere between the realms of life and death.

A moment later, two figures materialized before her.

Annabelle and Samara.

Annabelle's eyes flickered with curiosity as she stepped forward, tilting her head slightly. "Is there a problem, Harivel?"

Samara remained silent, merely observing.

Cleenah had summoned them here, after all.

She offered them a small smile. "I need to tell you something. Something important—about the Banshees. And about yourselves."

Annabelle's eyes widened. "About the Banshees? Are we going to awaken something new?" There was a slight spark of excitement in her tone, the idea of gaining another ability to help Edward clearly thrilling her.

Cleenah chuckled softly but shook her head. "Not entirely wrong," she admitted. "But this is more than just an ability. It's knowledge. The truth about the Banshees—your true purpose."

"Our true purpose?" Samara raised a brow interested as well now.

Cleenah nodded.

"Yes. As you both know, Edward formed a contract with you when he saved you. Your souls are now bound to him—linked beyond life and death. But there's something you don't fully understand yet."

She took a step closer.

"The soul you possess… it should not have been enough to sustain you—to make you 'alive' in the way you are now."

Annabelle and Samara exchanged glances not understanding..

"The reason you exist in this state is because Edward has been sharing a piece of his own soul with you. A fragment of his very essence—his memories, his emotions… and that along with the fragment of your soul makes the Animas Code which makes you a Banshee, capable of living and even growing."

"Animas Code?" Annabelle repeated, her brows furrowing in confusion.

She had never heard of it before. A quick glance at Samara confirmed that she hadn't either.

Cleenah nodded. "Yes. The truth is… you don't actually have souls of your own."

Both Annabelle and Samara stiffened slightly.

"My power allows me to recover lingering fragments of a lost soul—small, broken pieces that remain tethered to this world," Cleenah explained. "I can harvest those fragments, extracting memories and emotions from them. That's how I glimpse into your past—your strongest moments of joy, sorrow, and fear. However, these fragments alone are incomplete. They are like shattered glass—useless unless pieced back together."

She paused, letting the words settle over them.

"Do you understand?" Cleenah asked, her gaze scanning their faces.

There was a silence until Samara spoke up.

"When Edward saved us… he repaired our soul fragments?"

Cleenah smiled, pleased by how quickly she caught on. "Exactly. That is the true purpose of 'saving' a Banshee. Repairing a broken soul. Edward is remarkably skilled at it."

Annabelle and Samara exchanged glances.

"It's not easy," Cleenah continued. "Restoring a soul requires more than just power—it demands trust, a deep connection, and a true sincerity. A Banshee will only fully form when someone reaches out without fear or ulterior motives. Edward has done it three times… without fail."

Samara's cold expression softened. "Edward saw us for who we really are. He wasn't afraid of us. He didn't try to use us. He didn't hesitate when he saved us." She clenched her fists, her voice growing quieter. "He just… wanted us to be happy."

Annabelle smiled gently, nodding in agreement. "Yes."

Cleenah watched them for a moment before speaking again. "Both of you should have recovered the previous trials, haven't you?"

Annabelle blinked. "Previous trials?"

Cleenah nodded. "Your soul fragments have been fully repaired. And when that happens—when a Banshee reaches a certain level of completeness—your Animas Code should unlock deeper insight."

Annabelle and Samara's eyes widened slightly as the realization dawned on them.

The Trial was what Edward had undergone when he saw their memories, accepted them, and chose to save them. He had succeeded where so many others had failed.

Before Edward, there had been others. Countless others. People who had tried to summon Banshees, who had gone through the Trial—who had failed.

And now…

Both Annabelle and Samara, having reached a certain level of proficiency, had begun to recall those failed attempts.

"How many?" Cleenah finally asked.

Annabelle and Samara exchanged one last look—because they both knew.

They had seen.

They remembered.

And the number was far greater than either of them had ever imagined.

"One hundred and seven trials," Annabelle said.

"Five hundred and fifty seven," Samara added, her tone colder, as if the sheer number disgusted her.

That was the number of people who had failed.

Hundreds of souls who had tried—and ultimately proven unworthy.

Of course, when Edward had first come to them, neither Annabelle nor Samara had any recollection of these past trials. That was the nature of it—the Trial always began with a blank slate. They had no memories of those who came before. No awareness of how many had attempted to claim them, only to fall short.

But now…

Now they remembered.

And that knowledge had only deepened their devotion to Edward.

Because all those who had failed had something in common—they were never truly worthy.

Every single one of them had harbored ulterior motives—selfish desires, greed, fear, or even outright malice. Some sought to use them, others saw them as nothing more than tools, and some even harbored thoughts far darker than that.

They had all failed because Annabelle and Samara had never trusted them.

Yet Edward…

Edward had never needed to prove himself. He had simply been himself.

And they had trusted him instinctively.

Even Samara, who was by far the most distrusting of them, had found herself unable to resist his sincerity. He hadn't tried to manipulate her. He hadn't seen her as something to be controlled. His words, his actions, his very existence had been enough.

Just as it had been for Annabelle.

Just as it had been for Mary before them.

"Mary had over a thousand trials before she met Edward. But you two had quite a lot as well," Cleenah chuckled thinking about it.

Annabelle and Samara exchanged a look.

One thousand trials…

A thousand people had tried. A thousand people had failed.

Usually, after one thousand trials, a Banshee would eventually find someone worthy of forming a bond with. It was supposed to be inevitable. Yet Mary had been unlucky.

Until Edward.

Cleenah sighed softly before continuing. "Now, here's what I wanted to explain. After Edward repaired your fragments and successfully contracted you, something else happened—something more than just restoring your souls."

Annabelle and Samara turned their attention back to her.

"Your fragments fused with Edward's essential soul—which is different from his actual soul. That part… is the very core of his being. His identity. His essence."

Both girls remained silent, absorbing her words.

"The fusion of those fragments created something new—the Animas Code Soul," Cleenah continued. "That is why you are both standing here before me, alive in a way you never were before. A part of Edward exists within you now. And even if you are resurrected in the truest sense, it will only be possible because of Edward's soul."

She paused, then added with a small smile, "A living soul."

"Edward's soul…" Samara whispered, placing a hand over her chest. A slow, almost imperceptible smile formed on her lips.

Annabelle, however, tilted her head slightly. "You keep saying 'Edward'… but what about Nyrel? Does this apply to him as well?"

Cleenah nodded without hesitation. "Amael's case is a bit more complicated. But your Animas Code is mainly formed from Nyrel's essence which is in Wrath...not his soul."

Annabelle and Samara seemed surprised hearing that.

"That must be why you're more deeply influenced by Nyrel's memories," Cleenah continued. "Whereas Amael's memories likely feel… distant. Detached. Less vivid."

Annabelle and Samara glanced at each other.

"Yes…" Annabelle murmured.

"That's exactly how it feels," Samara added, furrowing her brows. "Amael's memories seem… different. Almost like they don't belong to us the same way Nyrel's do."

Cleenah smiled knowingly. "That's because they don't. Nyrel's essence flows within your Animas Code. And that makes all the difference."

"So, you're saying that the fragment of Edward's soul within our Animas Code… isn't really his soul at all?" Samara asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. "It's actually made of Nyrel's Wrath?"

Cleenah nodded. "Yes, for the most part. But there's also a small portion of Edward's soul mixed in. To put it simply, your Animas Code is composed of about ninety percent Nyrel's Wrath and only ten percent of Edward's actual soul which contains Amael's memories. You have Amael's memories only through Edward's own memories not through Amael's soul. That sliver of him is why you can feel his emotions so intensely and why his memories linger within you."

"Then what is our true purpose?" Annabelle asked, tilting her head. "Harivel?"