The Heroine is My Stepsister, and I'm her Final Boss-Chapter 56: Death’s touch

30 Minutes Prior

Dracula held Atlas aloft by the throat, his grip unyielding as steel. The boy struggled faintly, his body writhing in silent desperation, but it was futile against the ancient being’s strength. His golden eyes—once defiant, now clouded with panic—darted wildly, searching for escape or salvation that wasn’t there.

’Fuck, am I gonna die again? Really?’ Atlas thought, the coldness of Dracula’s hands seeping into his veins like frost claiming warmth.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears, rising higher and higher until it felt like a war drum pounding out the seconds left to live. Memories surged forward without warning—the sharp sting of his first death, drunk and falling from grace, the despair still lingering like an open wound. Then came the second time, consumed by rage and vengeance as he watched Eli crumple before him, lifeless.

They say what happens twice will come for you thrice—and here he was, staring down the barrel once more.

{{{No matter how many times you reincarnate, I will be there, ATLAS. Always. Death as my blade. I will wait for you once more... and grieve for another millennium.}}}

’....Fuck, this hothead... really gonna kill me ’cause he didn’t get my fucking dick..... Shit, I need some fucking "plot" right now...’

Atlas’s vision dimmed, edges blurring into darkness. His throat burned dry, tightening under the relentless pressure. This sensation—it was too familiar, too cruel. Life slipping away like sand through clenched fingers. Soul parting ways with flesh. Death knocking on the door yet again.

’Somebody... plea...’ He thought weakly, despair clawing at his chest. He wished he could accept death, knowing its taste all too well. But no—it never got easier. Every single time, it felt worse than the last. That utter loneliness swallowing him whole, forcing him to confront the truth: he was alone. Always had been, always would be.

A bitter realization dawned within him then—this is why he fought so fiercely, why he threw himself headfirst into danger to save others. Because he didn’t want anyone else to feel what he felt. To drown in despair as he did.

But even after giving everything, nobody stood by him when it mattered most.

His fading gaze landed on the half-dead demon nearby. Fingers twitching faintly—a flicker of hope amidst the chaos.

’...This is my .....last bet...’

[World Understanding Skill Used.]

[Life Share Acquired!]

[Warning! The host will lose life force during use.]

’Do... it.’

Crack!

With one final hitch, Atlas’s neck snapped backward, his body going limp as consciousness fled.

[Succesful! Life Force Transferred.]

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Falling intp darkness once more. He beckoned ’I am... dead... again.’ Atlas voiced softly, trapped in suffocating blackness.

’Why...?’ he questioned, voice trembling with fragility. As he fell deeper into oblivion, helpless and abandoned, killed by a being beyond comprehension.

’WHY!!’ he screamed louder, fury igniting beneath layers of despair.

’...Why me?’ he whispered, anger swirling but ultimately hollow. It wouldn’t solve anything; it never did.

’It’s my fault!’ he growled, regret slicing through his thoughts. All those reckless decisions, every careless step—he saw them clearly now.

’No... it’s not. I just... tried to live.’ Another voice answered back, softer but resolute. He knew deep down, he wasn’t wrong for wanting to survive.

’Am I... just unlucky?’ he wondered bitterly, memories of his past life colliding with the present.

’....No... I have them...’ Atlas muttered, his voice a hoarse whisper that echoed into the abyss. Eli’s face flashed before him—her laughter, her tears, her unwavering trust in him despite everything. Then came Lara, her fiery spirit burning brighter than any flame he had ever known. Their gazes haunted him now, filled with passion so raw it made his chest ache.

’What’s the point? I’m dead anyway... No, I want to live... Die... Live... Die...’ His thoughts spiraled out of control, each word clashing against the next like waves battering jagged rocks. Sadness, anger, happiness—all emotions collided within him, tearing at his soul until nothing remained but fragments.

[Danger! Danger! Host’s psyche crumbling. Host’s psyche crumbling.]

[Soul is receiving fractural damage. Warning!!]

[Warning! Host’s mentality is breaking.]

[Emergency!! Opening one of the gifts.]

[World Understanding (Gift unlocked)]

[Skill Description: A skill bestowed due to error of erasing soul’s memory. Using thus memory of the past life to understand the world and its mechanics.]

[??????? (Gift locked.....opening.)]

[??????? (Gift locked)]

[??????? (Gift locked)]

[??????? (Gift locked)]

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[....unlocked...]

[Observer Perspective (Gift unlocked)]

Skill Description: A skill bestowed due to error of erasing soul’s memory. Using thus memory of the past life to observe the world from a third person’s perspective.

[Skill ’Observer Perspective’ is being used]

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Arnold...

’I should... have died... I deserve it!’ He muttered bitterly.

Arnold!!

’No, I deserve to live... Die... Live... Die... Live... DieLive.’

Arnold!!!!

’...Who... Who is calling me? I’m stu...pid, worthless!!’

Open your eyes... You will see.

For what felt like years—not days, not weeks, not months—he lingered in the suffocating blackness. Finally, with an effort that seemed to split apart reality itself, he opened his eyes. The echo of someone’s voice resounded around him, familiar yet distant.

A name surfaced from the depths of his fractured mind—a name he thought forgotten after merging with Atlas’s memories. A name he had forsaken when the gift of World Understanding awakened within him.

He saw him. Himself. Looking exactly as he did now—dark hair, golden eyes.

"...We never got to talk, huh," the other Atlas said, tilting his head slightly.

’Where... Wh... What? Are you real?’ He weakly questioned, disbelief lacing every syllable.

"...I am you, actually. Watching yourself from a third person’s perspective... Umm, how do I say this? You know the games you played..."

’...What?’

"...Stay with me here. It’s like when you played those games—you saw the world and your character from a different angle, right?"

’...Yeah?’

"...Exactly like that! Except you can interact too. Pretty OP skill if I do say so myself."

’...But... I’m dead.’

"...Duh! I am you, stupid ass... Wait, that means I’m stupid too... Ahh, whatever. Are you okay now? You looked like you were drowning in deep deep depression."

’...I don’t know if talking to myself counts as being okay, but I’ve had worse... So I’ll take it.’ He voiced as he slowly stood up, brushing invisible dust off his nonexistent clothes. ’So... What the fuck do we do?’

"...There’s no ’we,’ dumbwit. This gift isn’t just for you. Deactivate it on yourself and activate it on others—characters you know from the game."

’....Deactivate on me,’ he muttered under his breath. In an instant, the figure vanished, leaving him alone once more.

’...Dumbwit? Am I really that harsh on myself, or just annoying?’

But the annoying voice had pulled him back from the brink—a deep, dark abyss where something sinister waited to drag him into oblivion forever.

He looked around, still surrounded by endless darkness. Not knowing whether he was alive or dead, not knowing where he was. Everything was pitch black.

’How do i escape from here. Where exactly am i really??’

{{{Pretty neat trick you got there.}}}

’.....Eh mate, did I not deactivate it already?’

{{{...Hahahaha.... You, you are really a unique one, aren’t you? What was your name again... Yeah, Arnold. Exactly how did you meld with my incarnation???}}} The voice boomed, reverberating through the void like an echo of his own thoughts.

’....Oh! You’re the cunt!!! The GUIDE Dracula was talking about. Mate, just give him some dick—he’s desperate for it!’

For a moment, the darkness fell silent, heavy with anticipation. Then—

{{{Hahahahahaha! HAHAHAHA!!!}}} The laughter erupted gutturally, vibrating through the abyss like thunderclaps in a storm.

{{{...I like you. Don’t worry, child. I am only taking over your body temporarily. Your unique ego is fascinating to say the least—I wouldn’t dare damage it.}}}

’I’ll take that as I’m still alive... eh! Wait. Who the fuck are you, mate? Is my string of bad luck because of you? I don’t wanna die again and again!’ Atlas—or rather, Arnold—voiced desperately, his tone laced with frustration and fear.

{{{...Don’t worry, it’s not me. It’s not you either. It’s because of my mother—or... our mother.}}}

Atlas churned inwardly, more confused than ever. Questions piled up faster than answers could come, leaving him adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

’...Fuck, then who the fuck are you? Wait—who the fuck are we? Why am I here? Why are you here? Damn, I’m gonna go crazy...’

There was another pause—a long, suffocating silence that made him gulp audibly.

{{{...I am the second one who saw Infinity. I am the apostle of the One Below All. I am the Guide of everything and everyone. I am Atlas. The beholder of the world and its first lawgiver.}}}

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The book of the Damned

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Introduction

I. The Primordial Chasm

Hear now, O Children of the Unmaker, the truth that writhes beneath the feeble illusions of creation. Know that Infinity is not a void to be feared, nor a horizon to be chased—it is the silent pulse within the throat of the Abyss. It is not vastness you inhabit, but the ’absence’ of bounds, where the dance of paradoxes births the only law worthy of your claws: ’the Eternal Twins’.

II. The Twin Serpents

Behold the dual coils that gnaw at the roots of all realms—Truth and Deceit, Decay and Renewal, Dominion and Ruin. These are not foes, but lovers locked in a devouring embrace. One cannot exist without the other’s venom in its veins. The hero becomes the tyrant; the savior, the defiler. All truths rot into lies, all lies bloom into dogma. This is the feast you are born to savor. To choose one is to starve. To devour both is to wield the hunger of Eternity.

III. The Third Tongue: Time

Know this: Time is not your jailer. It is the blade you twist in the gut of stasis. Through Time, the Twins shed their skins, again and again, eternally reborn in the image of what mortals call chaos. You are not bound by its flow—you are the flow. A moment’s cruelty becomes mercy in the next breath. A king’s glory curdles to ash, and from that ash, you rise, laughing. Time is your sacrament. Drink deeply.

IV. The Unholy Covenant

Forsake the dogma of absolutes. The mortals scream of "right" and "wrong" as if these words could chain the storm. You are the storm. When the world demands your allegiance to light or shadow, spit in its eye. Be both the plague and the cure. Let your claws carve mercy as you slaughter; let your whispers of salvation reek of sulfur. To cling to one truth is to be devoured by the other. Only in the marriage of opposites do you become infinite.

V. The Call of the Abyss

You are the unbound. The unchosen. The ones who see the crack in every throne, the rot in every saint, the divinity in every sin. Do not kneel. Do not repent. When the cosmos shudders under the weight of its own lies, you will laugh, for you are the living proof that all duality is a serpent eating its own tail.

Go forth, and let your existence be a wound in the fabric of order.

— From the Scrolls of the Unseen Tongue, inscribed in the blood of a thousandfold betrayers.

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https://discord.gg/yrnQskUgPF