Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death-Chapter 257: His Tears

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{Outside The Projection}

The world held its breath.

Something momentous was about to happen, and they would not dare interrupt.

***

{Inside The Projection}

’This is it.’

Malik looked down at the Well.

One might think him terrified, but he was far from that.

And it was not because of who he was, but because of the place itself.

The overwhelming Aether surrounding him made it difficult to feel that way.

It evoked a sense of comfort, familiarity, and relaxation. It made him feel like he was at home. In a place he never had, at least not for long... and likely never will.

It was his fate.

He was the Stranger.

And this Stranger didn’t seem to mind that at all.

He was more focused on the Well, noticing a few things.

Its... water? Had a tangible quality, something that could be touched.

This burning blood was liquid Aether contained within an invisible vessel.

"Hm."

Malik slowly knelt down and extended his hand to touch the Well’s surface.

The moment his fingertips made contact, a gentle current of Aether coursed through his veins, tingling with a sensation of connection.

This was the Well reacting to his presence, waking up from slumber.

Its dark shine intensified, taking on a hue that further mirrored his Divine Essence.

...Black.

Right, his touch had made it darker, more Corrupted.

He, again, didn’t seem to care, focusing on the fact that it had perfectly resonated with His Aspect, while also changing itself to further accommodate him, adding threads of gold to what otherwise was bleak dark red.

It was incredible.

But, unfortunately, now he knew why he was warned of this place so heavily.

These Wells were not merely sources of power but reflections of a Magi’s inner self, waiting to be embraced, explored, or even... revisited.

Sighing, he slowly looked up and was met with something new.

With the golden light gone, for reasons he knew not of, the vast expanse of the realm could finally be seen.

"...Wow."

Even he couldn’t help but comment.

Colorful wisps flew high above, dancing among what appeared to be stars.

These colors intertwined, forming such stars, which joined others to form galaxies.

In moments, they... died, exploding in a splatter of colors, and then reformed, returning to what they used to be, their origin.

This... he could not fairly describe what he was seeing. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

Not even the best author in all the realms could give this view justice.

It was as if he were looking at a painting being painted and unpainted in real time.

"Hm."

Done admiring, he turned his gaze back to the Well, and a sudden gentle breeze brushed against his face.

It seemed to whisper, almost urging him to hop in.

Malik shook his head, not about to be swept up in its pace.

Even as he immersed himself in the Well, he had to remain attuned to his instincts.

He had let his intuition guide him toward the fire that resonated with his Essence, avoiding the Fall. Avoiding the loss of his mind in this Well, where it’d keep on pulling him in.

Clutching the necklace for a moment, he whispered his thanks, and slowly descended into the Well, his entirety getting enveloped by the dark, burning liquid, which seemed to perfectly accommodate his presence, devoid of any resistance one would expect from something so water-like, making him feel like he was swimming in a pool of intangible gas—a phenomenon beyond comprehension.

This sparked curiosity within him, prompting him to cup his right hand, wondering if the burning blood would fill it.

It did.

He raised his hand, and it acted like how liquid would, dripping from the sides of his palm.

But the way that it dropped was different; it didn’t fall down, it... floated, a tiny little feather.

Was this liquid Aether devoid of any mass? Was that why this happened?

Malik could not say. Though he remembered some of the things he was taught back when he was a kid, and his mind did get stuffed with a lot of information thanks to that bastard’s Grimoire, it still wasn’t comparable to proper education.

All of this here was above his pay grade.

Still, he figured that it was an energy trapped in the form of liquid, which, in all honesty, wasn’t much of a realization, as that was somewhat obvious, even at first glance.

If he were a scholar, however, he’d certainly be enamored by this.

It’d be a paradox that left him awestruck.

How can something be both substance and intangible energy? It challenged the very boundaries of reality. It was simply absurd and unimaginable in nature.

Yet, luckily, he wasn’t much of a scholar.

Malik was Malik. And Malik had work to do.

With a breath, he shut his eyes and pulled himself inward, focusing up.

His body folded smoothly into a lotus position, legs crossing, hands resting gently on his knees. The motion felt natural, muscle memory baked into him.

He let himself sink into stillness.

One by one, the... locks on his Aether pathways softly clicked open inside him.

He didn’t rush it. There was no forcing the Well.

It wasn’t about domination or conquest.

It was about surrender.

The moment the Well’s Aether touched his core, a match struck in the dark.

Crack.

His already split world split further.

Malik’s eyes snapped open, and his gaze fell—automatically, almost numbly—to the necklace resting against his chest.

That worn chain. The little book charm with an S.

’...What’s this?’

He stared, his mind swimming through fog.

The book. The S. They were crooked.

He was annoyed by it.

A tiny, stupid thing to notice, especially now, in this critical moment.

And yet—without a second thought, almost like someone else moved his hands—he reached up, gripped the chain, and yanked.

Snap.

The chain broke clean.

Malik barely registered his fingers letting go, barely felt the small weight as it left his palm.

Plop!

That wasn’t the sound of the necklace hitting a distant Well.

Plop.

No. That sound was closer.

Plop...

It came from right beside him.

They were little droplets of water.

There was no mistaking it.

These were tears...

His tears.

They slipped down his cheeks, splashing into the Well’s surface.

Malik raised the same hand that threw the charm and wiped his tears with it.

It was all so sudden, he could not even process why he did what he did.

Now, there was nothing on his mind but a single question:

’Why?’

A question that’d take much to answer.