The lives of heroic spirits were full of impossibilities; it was a fact that few would question. When Heroes of old that could be summoned to different time periods, it was difficult to think of things that weren’t possible. Kingu, himself, understood and accepted this logic; after all, his entire existence had been brought about because of and within one of these numerous impossibilities. He’d hardly question them, come what may. If asked, he’d answer that with utmost certainty.
This, though– this was something that he’d never thought possible. It simply couldn’t be. Kingu’s footsteps came to a sudden halt as he explored the so-called “green sector”, eyes wide in disbelief and expression frozen in shock. It was like seeing a ghost, except the fake–the copy wasn’t the one before him. That was him; he was the fake that had taken over another’s body and claimed it as his own. With that in mind, it meant that this one was–
No. It can’t be. They can’t be. No. The thoughts repeated themselves in his mind, like endless waves crashing and breaking on shore. This would’ve never happened back when he first awoke; they were dead then, their body nothing but an empty vessel. Yet, the creature before him now was identical to him–he was identical to them. Something deep within him stirred, the urge to escape from there crept up on him in an instant. If he turned now, there was a chance–
“A–Ah…” Except his back collided with someone as he did. Kingu flinched involuntarily, glancing back towards the original Chain of Heaven only to freeze under their gaze once more. His body was tense, ready to flee or fight, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. His breath caught in his throat, and all he could manage was a shaky exhale amidst the anticipation. What was he waiting for? He had no idea. “You…”