𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇

NINE

FLASHBACK
— Previous Life

His mother and father were too alike. Or perhaps they weren't. At times it seemed their souls were made of the same fabric that made their being, but at times, it seemed they were two different people entirely. Y/n hated how his mother seemed to adore his father while his father insisted on keeping a long line of mistresses whom he retired to in the night. His mother's bed was never warm from her husband's presence, but the coat of red lipstick stayed, and so did the perm in her brilliant, red hair.

It was like fire, and so was her personality. Long lines of curses would flow from her lips when she was angry, and she would rest her bony hands on her bony hips as her gaze would shoot daggers at Y/n's father. He was an indifferent man, and their love was very much twisted: they cuddled, sang love-stricken words to each other, and clinked together their bottles of wine. Their love for their alcoholic beverages were at least, very much the same—their passion for drugs were also the same.

Yet at other times, glasses would drop with loud sounds, and sobs and screams would erupt from the kitchen. Y/n had been too young to place a word to describe what it was, but he did remember clutching his sister tightly to himself, trying to quietly read a book to her.

"Oh, you are just like me," His mother would say angrily.

"Isn't that good? You know my sorrows, my pains. You should understand me."

"Understand you?" Her voice would take a hysterical turn, "Raymond. I will never understand why you bring a woman half your age to your bed. Should I bring men half my age to my bed too?"

"You wouldn't," His father would say. "You adore me too much."

And that was the part Y/n didn't get. His mother cherished his father too much. She couldn't bear the idea of him leaving. Her blind devotion for someone so utterly cruel...it had become normalized to him, to the point that in the future, he would overlook the cult-like affection everyone had for Anton,

If people were too similar, then they would clash. Your loved one was supposed to have all the things you didn't have—and have all the things you needed.

Y/n's father didn't have what his mother needed.

But Father Anton was what the people of the church needed: someone to blindly believe. Someone to assure them.

And what Anton needed was someone he could believe in.

Someone from the oracle.

PRESENT

[ Congratulations! You have advanced to Level Four!
You are entitled to a spin at the wheel... ]

Y/n clicked on the option spin, and watched as the hologram-like cards shuffled around, and finally landed on one. His past spins had only resulted in flashes of silverlight, but to his utter amazement, it shone a brilliant gold.

[ You have obtained a S-Class item. Congratulations!
Do you wish to use < Memory Lane > now?
This item allows you to revisit your pre-world memories to enable you to gain more information, and possibly help you. Good luck, player! ]

That sounded too good to be true.

A trip down the memory lane? A chance to revisit his past to dig up more information about the game? No wonder it was a S-Class item. Y/n had never managed to earn this item when he was actually playing the game, so this was a rare opportunity that he had to grab. And was it a good time?

Y/n looked around. Lucas was sleeping after he had gotten back from the church, the door was bolted shut, the windows were closed...it was the best time to do it. He doubted any quests would pop up at such an ungodly hour.