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P͟e͟a͟k͟w͟e͟s͟t͟ 2͟  | "ι'м ∂σиє ¢яуιиg, єиσυgн ∂яєαмιиg."

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"You cannot."

The words echoed through the dark room, as Alan's eyes flashed with a burning rage.

"I can,"

Alan spat, glaring at the boy chained to the chair.

The boy’s lips twisted into a cruel smile.

"No, you cannot, Esme."

"You alone cannot."

Alan’s fists tightened, trembling.

"Then who do I need?"

The boy’s laugh was cold, cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Me."

"In order to return back to life, you need me."

Alan's heart pounded.

"How?"

Alan: "You were always weak!"

The boy's smirk widened.

"You do not have the strength to kill."

"Weakness runs through you like a curse."

"The one who slaughtered Kazuto… the one who even stood against Muzan—do you really think it was all you? You couldn’t have done it without me. But since you lost access to me, you’ve failed. And now… you’ve lost."

Alan's breath grew heavier, his anger rising.

"I don’t need you,"

he hissed.

"Just sit there and watch, you bastard."

The boy chuckled, his voice dripping with mockery.

"Watch you?"

"What could you do when your parents were dying?"

Alan's body froze, his heart skipping a beat.

"Don’t talk about them."

The boy's smile only grew more sinister.

"What were you capable of doing when your mother was butchered in front of you? When your brother screamed for help?"

Alan’s chest tightened, memories he tried so hard to bury clawing their way to the surface.

"Is your brother still alive?"

the boy taunted.

"Or has he perished too, because you weren’t brave enough to save him?"

Alan’s fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms as the guilt began to suffocate him.

"You ran,"

the boy continued, his voice cruel.

"You saved yourself. You left them to die."

"SHUT UP!"

Alan roared, his voice cracking as he lunged forward, striking the boy.

The boy remained unfazed, only chuckling at Alan’s outburst.

"And what did that accomplish?"

"Nothing."

Alan stood, shaking, his breath shallow. The boy’s words were like knives, cutting deep into wounds that had never healed.

"You couldn’t even save the factory manager who risked his life for you,"

the boy whispered, his voice chillingly calm.

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