Nemesis. Start on the End.

The villa was eerily silent as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room. David sat across from Gillia, his fingers interlocked tightly on the table. His family rested in the adjoining rooms, temporarily shielded from the chaos outside. He needed to handle this carefully—if he could manage to rebuild some semblance of trust with Gillia, it would be the first step in ensuring their collective survival.

Gillia's piercing gaze cut through him, her posture rigid, her expression unyielding. She hadn't said much since they arrived. The weight of the situation pressed on him, and he knew he couldn't delay any longer. It was time to reveal everything.

"I need to tell you something," David began, his voice low but steady. "Something that might explain... everything."

"Explain why you lied to me? Why you used me?" she snapped, her anger simmering just beneath the surface.

"Yes," he admitted. "But it's more than that." He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Gillia... I'm not just any player. I'm not just David or Revsha. I've lived through this before."

She blinked, her stern expression faltering for a moment. "What are you talking about?"

"I was reincarnated," he said plainly, his voice carrying the weight of the confession. "In my previous life, I went through this disaster. I watched the world burn. I saw my family—my mother, my aunt, my sister—die in this very catastrophe. And I couldn't save them. But that wasn't the worst of it."

Gillia's brow furrowed, but she said nothing, letting him continue.

"I had someone in my life back then," he went on, his voice hardening. "A girlfriend. Someone I trusted more than anyone. When everything fell apart, I thought we would face it together. I was wrong. She betrayed me. Sold me out for her own survival. And because of that, I lost everything."

His hands clenched into fists on the table, the memories stirring emotions he'd buried deep. "That betrayal changed me. It made me... paranoid. Distrustful. I started to believe that everyone would betray me if given the chance. And that's why I lied to you. Why I manipulated you."

Gillia leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. "So, let me get this straight. You lied to me, used that ridiculous skill to bind me to you, and dragged me into your family's problems... because some girl hurt your feelings in another life?"

"It wasn't just my feelings!" he snapped, his voice rising. "She cost me everything! My family! My life! I died because I trusted her! And I couldn't let that happen again."

Silence fell between them, the air heavy with tension. Finally, Gillia spoke, her voice cool and measured. "That's a nice sob story, David. But it doesn't change what you did. You didn't trust me, and you lied to me. You've proven that you're no better than the people you claim to hate."

"I know," he said softly. "I know I've been a hypocrite. But I'm trying to change. I see now that I've let my past cloud my judgment. And I want to be better. For my family. For myself. And... for you."

"For me?" she repeated, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm not some damsel waiting for your redemption arc. I don't trust you, David. Not anymore. But I'll tell you this much: you can stay here. For now. But if you want to live in this villa, you'll work for it. I'm not running a charity."

David nodded, accepting her terms. "Fair enough. I'll do whatever it takes to prove myself to you."

"Good," she said, standing up. "Because if you try to pull any more stunts, you'll be out of here faster than you can say 'reincarnation.'"

He managed a weak smile, though his chest felt heavy. "Understood."

Gillia turned to leave but paused at the doorway, glancing back at him. "And one more thing. Don't think for a second that I'm going to just forget what you did. You lost my trust, David. And trust isn't something you can win back with words."

"I know," he replied. "But I'll earn it. One way or another."

She didn't respond, disappearing down the hall. David sat alone at the table, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He had a long road ahead of him, but for the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could make things right.

But there was no time to dwell on it. The world was falling apart outside, and survival came first. He needed to figure out how much food and water they had, what supplies they could gather, and how to keep everyone safe. The villa's solar panels were a blessing, providing power when the rest of the city had gone dark. But they couldn't survive on electricity alone.

---

That night, David approached Gillia again. This time, he was more careful, more deliberate. He asked her about the villa's resources, how much food and water they had, and what their long-term options were. She answered his questions with curt efficiency, but there was no warmth in her tone. She was cooperating, but only because survival demanded it.

"Gillia," he said hesitantly, as they stood in the kitchen going over supplies. "Can I ask you something?"

"What now?" she replied, her patience clearly wearing thin.

"Please... don't tell my family about what I did. About the skill, or the lies. They don't need to know. Not yet."

She crossed her arms, regarding him with a cold gaze. "Fine. But not because I care about you. I just don't want to deal with your family's drama. You're on thin ice, David. Don't push your luck."

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Gillia sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Look, I don't know what your endgame is here, but let me make one thing clear. This villa is mine. It's my home, my safe haven. I've worked hard to keep it running, and I'm not going to let you ruin it. If you want to stay here, you follow my rules. You pull your weight. And you don't lie to me again. Got it?"

"Got it," he replied, nodding.

"Good," she said, turning to leave. "Because I'm watching you, David. And if you mess this up, you're out. Reincarnation or not."

As she walked away, David felt a strange mix of relief and determination. He had a second chance—a chance to do things differently, to protect the people he cared about and to build something real. But first, he needed to earn Gillia's trust. And that would be his greatest challenge yet.

The morning of the second day at the villa started with David focused on logistics. His family was still settling in, cautiously optimistic about their temporary haven. However, his mind was consumed with survival. The villa was a refuge, but only if it had the resources to sustain them.

He found Gillia in the kitchen, sorting through the supplies. She was focused, her movements precise but tense. When she saw him approach, she barely acknowledged him, the unresolved tension between them lingering in the air.

David cleared his throat. "Gillia, I need to ask you about the villa's resources—food, water, energy. We need to know how long we can last here, especially with the disaster tearing the city apart."

She set down a can of preserved fruit and turned to face him, arms crossed. "You should've asked that yesterday. But fine. There's enough food to last a month, maybe two if we're careful. The villa has a well with a filtration system, so water isn't an issue. And energy—there are solar panels with a battery backup. It's enough for basic functions, including the VR setup. But that doesn't mean we're set for life, David."

David nodded, absorbing the information. "This is more than I expected. Thank you for keeping this place so well-prepared."

Gillia shrugged, her voice clipped. "I didn't prepare for a disaster. I just didn't want to rely on anyone else. Guess it worked out."

David hesitated, then decided it was time to bring up the topic that had been eating at him. "Gillia, there's something else I need to talk about. It's about VR and the game."

Her skeptical glare sharpened. "You're really going to talk about a game while the world's burning?"

"It's not just a game anymore," David said, his tone serious. "Do you remember all those news reports about Britain's initiative to end real wars? The whole concept of shifting conflict into VR? It wasn't just politics—it was preparation. The new world is going to be shaped by VR. Wars, power struggles, even economies—it's all going to play out in virtual spaces. The game isn't a distraction; it's a tool. It's how we're going to survive and rebuild."

Gillia scoffed. "You really think people will abandon real wars and just play video games instead?"

David met her gaze, his expression unwavering. "The disaster has already shown that old systems don't work. People are going to adapt, and VR offers a way to fight for power, money, and resources without destroying what's left of the real world. The game rewards players with real currency. It's already becoming the backbone of this new economy. If we want to secure our future, we need to use it."

Her arms stayed crossed, but her frown softened into contemplation. "So, you think we can just play our way to survival?"

"I think we can build something better through it," David corrected. "It's not just about playing—it's about strategy. About finding ways to thrive in this new system. My class is part of that. It's a wildcard, a variable that doesn't fit the old rules. That's why I believe it can make a difference."

Gillia tilted her head, curiosity creeping into her voice. "And where does that leave me? What am I supposed to do in this grand plan of yours?"

David took a deep breath. "Your class, Priestess, has already changed because of our connection. It's now *Priestess of Shadows,* adapted to complement my own. It's stronger, more versatile. We're stronger together than we are apart."

Her eyes narrowed. "You make it sound like I'm just a pawn in your system."

"No," David said firmly. "You're a partner. This isn't about using you—it's about working together. I made mistakes because I let my past cloud my judgment, but I'm trying to change that. I need your help, Gillia. Not just for my family, but for all of us. If we can build trust and work as a team, we'll have a real shot at surviving this."

Gillia sighed, looking away. "You've got a lot to prove, David. But for now, I'll go along with this. Just know that I'll be watching every step you take."

"Fair enough," he said, relieved she hadn't outright rejected him. "Thank you, Gillia. I won't let you down."

"We'll see," she replied, turning back to the supplies. "Now, if you're done talking, we've got a lot of work to do."

David nodded, stepping forward to help her inventory their resources. As they worked, he felt a flicker of hope. Trust would take time to rebuild, but at least they were moving in the right direction.

Gillia froze as the realization struck her, the words slipping out before she could stop them. "My class… changed."

Her voice was trembling, not with fear but with something deeper—confusion, disbelief, anger. She took a step back, staring at David as if seeing him for the first time. "You… you wanted this, didn't you? My villa, my class… you planned this from the start."

David's face shifted, his expression caught between guilt and exhaustion. He opened his mouth, but no words came.

Gillia turned away, her chest tightening as the flood of emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She stumbled back to her room, slamming the door behind her. Her breathing was shallow, uneven, and she clutched the edges of her desk to steady herself.

The room felt smaller, suffocating, as her thoughts spiraled. *He used me. He lied to me. He…* She stopped, her mind catching on the memory of his words, his broken confession about his past.

*"I was betrayed once,"* he had said, his voice hollow, laced with bitterness. *"By someone I trusted. I don't trust easily anymore. But I love my family. They're all I have."*

She remembered the way his voice had cracked when he spoke of his sister, his mother. The way he'd tried to mask his emotions behind blunt pragmatism and cold reasoning. It wasn't manipulation, she realized now. It was survival.

Gillia sank onto the edge of her bed, her head in her hands.

He hadn't lied to hurt her. He hadn't taken her villa out of greed. He'd been desperate—so desperate to protect the people he loved that he'd built walls around himself, masking his intentions behind that lie about his cousin. But it wasn't his cousin, was it? It was *him*. His life, his pain, his desperation.

She thought about his mother, the gentle warmth in her voice. The way his sister clung to him, utterly secure in his love. And the aunt—aloof, distant, but fiercely protective in her own way. He wasn't perfect. He was broken, scarred by a false love that had twisted his ability to trust.

And yet…

Gillia's breath steadied as the realization dawned on her. He wasn't manipulative. He was honest, in the way only someone deeply wounded could be. He didn't hide his flaws; he wore them openly, like armor. And beneath all of it, she saw something she hadn't wanted to acknowledge.

He was her shadow.

The part of her she had always tried to suppress—the fear, the doubt, the anger. He embodied it, embraced it, and somehow, in his brokenness, he gave her permission to do the same.

Gillia looked at her hands, feeling the faint pulse of her new class. *Priestess of Shadow.* A strange fusion of her own light and his darkness.

She smiled bitterly, wiping a tear from her cheek. "You idiot," she whispered. "You didn't even realize what you did, did you?"

The thought struck her as oddly comforting. He hadn't planned this, not entirely. It wasn't some grand scheme to control her. It was survival, messy and imperfect. And now, somehow, they were bound together in a way neither of them fully understood.

Gillia stood, her resolve hardening. She wasn't going to let this break her. Not again. She had lost too much already, and if this was her path forward, she would walk it.

Opening her door, she hesitated for a moment, then called out, "David."

He turned from where he stood, his face pale and uncertain.

"You were right about one thing," she said, her voice steady now. "We're in this together. But if we're going to survive, you need to stop hiding in the shadows. Show me who you really are. Let me decide if I can trust you again."

David nodded, his expression softening. "I'll try," he said quietly.

Gillia stepped closer, meeting his gaze. For the first time, she saw not the shadow, but the man behind it. And in that moment, she knew—she wasn't just walking into the darkness. She was walking beside him.