Villain of my own novel



As soon as I retrieved the last piece of my soul, the first thing I heard were what kinds of thoughts my other self had, and I was slightly shocked to find out that he was glad to have accepted me because he thought that instead of our love for Isha being separated, it was just the love of one person that was split in two, so if he accepted me, it didn't mean that he lost to my love, but instead he was making over love for her whole. Smiling at the revelation, I glanced around, and soon, my gaze landed on the one who was the most important for me.

"I'm back." I smiled brightly as I glanced at Isha, who had a terrified expression on her face as she denied what she had just witnessed, thinking, 'That isn't Eshwar,' and things along those lines. Even I hadn't expected my other self to show that side of him....me. To this day, not once have I ever shown that side of mine—no, instead of saying "that side of mine," I should say my real, original self.

There are, namely, three stages to my character:

Enraged

Instinctive, and finally

My given-up self—no, it's more like "I don't really care anymore" self.

I would have gotten extremely angry at things that I do not like; I would have left things to my instincts if things were getting out of hand; and the given-up self was developed after my third regression. There wasn't much to see and do after dying two times and watching things repeat themselves again and again. After quite a long time, I understood the state I was in but was unable to get out of it, so from then on, I began to create my cheery, selfish, and slightly clumsy kind of persona, as I hid my real self behind the persona I created. It's just that,

I was afraid of being alone.

Only after experiencing it first-hand did I really understand that I was just a scared and cowardly basta*d who was afraid of facing real, proper feelings. Although I too had thought that I could be alone and do everything alone if I was strong enough, and it was true, but the more stronger I got, the more scared I became of facing real feelings directed at me. It wasn't as if I hadn't thought of showing my real self to Isha after I understood that I loved her, but the more afraid I became to show my real self, the more I realised how much I loved her.

What if she runs away?

What she finds my real self ugly and unsightly?

Just what if she leaves me?

These questions haunted me and prevented me from revealing my real self. And now that I'm facing the terrified expression on her face,

Should I think that I did the right thing that time?

Should I run away?

How could I bear to hear the words that would come out of her mouth at the revelation?

These questions filled my thoughts, which terrified me; hence, I enclosed my omniscience before I heard anymore of her thoughts.

Thoughts can easily be changed; if I hear her thoughts, get hurt, and run away, then even after she calms down and thinks that she was wrong to have thought so, I won't be able to face her. There will be many things that will cruise in one's mind in the spur of the moment, and even if they voice their thoughts in a hurtful manner, one should have enough courage to hold in the raging emotions that scream inwardly, asking to run away because many things will happen in that certain moment, which could be both an eye-opener and hurtful.

There could be many thoughts that may be their true feelings, many blames that they held back, many reasons that come out of their mouths that we aren't really aware of, thoughts that are running in their minds at certain moments that are different from what we think, and the complete answers for those can only be known after they calm down enough to talk properly. If we assume things and connect things with our own situations that are completely unrelated to the situations running in their minds, those are things that give life to situations that are unwanted, unsightly, and uncouth.

"They say you should always be grateful; I too should try to be grateful in every situation from now on." I mumbled to myself as my gaze turned misty the more I gazed at her terrified expression.

I gaited towards Isha and crouched down, to which she flinched in response. With the heart-clenching pain held in, I picked her up into a princess carry as I strode towards the throne, which Ortharious had sat on previously.

'Ah...' Realising that I was still covered in blood, head to toe, which could have a multiplying effect on the negative, unwanted thoughts Isha could be having now, so

'Cleanse.' I muttered inwardly, and a pure white, warm flame engulfed us whole, which had a calming effect on Isha, whose shivering body slightly calmed down.

"Thank you." I said to my flames with a smile and continued my gait towards the throne: I had just thought of being grateful to everything, so I should abide by the things I say. The blood on my body burned until nothing was left, and the flames that engulfed us died down before I arrived at the throne.

I gently and carefully made her sit on the throne, picked up the crown from Ortharious' dead body, and melted it, with white flames, until nothing of the crown remained before taking out a crown of my own from my sub-space. A pitch-black crown made from the bones of different kinds of gods, while their cores were used in the creation of Eunomia, of course, there were exactly three black, polished crystals, with the largest one in the middle. Though it was an unexpected gain while creating the crown, it had become a bound artefact, meaning that Isha became bound to it, and then it was hers and no one else's, not even mine, who created it.

"Isha...." I called out gently, before adorning her with the crown because I wanted her to accept it with her own free will.

"Huh?" Isha looked up at me with a terrified and dazed expression. With the pocket system worn as a chocker and the terrified expression on her face, it was giving life to a certain kind of fetish in me, which I somehow managed to kill before it bloomed entirely. Whew, that was a close one. It would be different if she accepted it, but the fetishes—ahem, these kinds of desires can be born at any moment, but now certainly wasn't the time.

"May I crown you?" I asked with a small smile.

"W-why? Wha? M-me? O-ok?" Isha muttered while nodding in a daze.

"Huuu...." With a gentle breath blown at her dazed face, I made her look at me, and

"Can I kiss you?" I asked, staring at her in the eyes. I don't know why, but tears began to stream out of her eyes, forcing me to stiffen.

"P-please...." She pleaded, and with a pang in my heart, I dropped the crown, which disappeared into my sub-space. With my hands supporting her head, I leaned down and kissed her. Finding it uncomfortable to kiss in that position, I placed my right knee on the throne in the middle of her thighs and made myself comfortable as I continued to kiss her.

Understanding that she too was trying to hold back her negative emotions for running rampant as I was, tears involuntarily streamed out of my eyes as I felt Isha's trembling hand clench onto the clothes on my chest as she pulled me towards her. She was struggling to breathe, yet she showed no signs of breaking the kiss. As slightly hiccupping, pained, muffled moans were released in my mouth, it was only a few more seconds later that she broke the kiss as she gazed at me with a tear-filled gaze, gasping for air, making my heart clench.

With a small, relieved smile, I bumped into her forehead and loosened my neck, gazing into her eyes and, "Thank you." I said, feeling grateful from the bottom of my very being due to her daring to not push me away. It was then that I felt a familiar presence, the owner of something I was holding on to.

"Are you done?" A hoarse, soothing man's voice sounded behind me, in response to which I smiled and glanced back at the familiar figure.

A dark, deep ocean blue-skinned, handsome man was seen leaning against a wall near the door; he had long black hair, which was tied up into a bun, with a crescent moon floating next to his bun; he had a bump on his forehead, which was, if you didn't know, his third eye, socketed vertically. He had a godly physique that was the dream of all men; he had worn a designer red embroidered three-piece tuxedo suit, which was proudly made by me.

"Not yet," I said, looking at the suited figure with a bright smile. My favourite existence of all—for what reason I liked him, I didn't know, but I grew up drawing a symbol that represented him, the lingam.

"Lord Shiva."