Have you ever written a letter to yourself?
When the night is so painful you want to cry, hiding under the covers alone, you have worries but no one to talk to.
Even in a crowd, you feel lonelier than when you are by yourself. There is simply no one you can truly speak with.
So, you end up picking up a pen and paper, clumsily writing to yourself. In the letter, you use another gentle tone to soothe your broken and lost self.
It feels as if through this dialogue, you can draw a thin sliver of warmth from a fictional response.
If you were to place Sefina’s carefully preserved “replies from Theresa” side by side with the new letter she just finished, you would discover a shocking truth —
The two styles of handwriting — from the way the strokes began and ended to the elegant connections of certain letters, even the overall spirit permeating the lines — were astoundingly identical.
They were… written by the same hand.
In fact, when Kefi had found herself flipping through those letters in Teacher Sefina’s bedroom, a faint sense of abnormality had flickered through her heart.
However, she was so flustered by Teacher Sefina’s intimate behavior while drunk that the realization was like a small stone thrown into a lake; it only stirred a single ripple before sinking.
It wasn’t until she returned to her dormitory and lay on her bed, her mind uncontrollably replaying those gentle, caring words on the stationery, that the sense of strangeness became clear —
Theresa’s handwriting and Teacher Sefina’s handwriting were simply too similar. They were so similar that… it was as if the same person had written them.
Of course, the innocent Kefi did not, and would never dare to, think in such a shocking direction.
She only tilted her head and blinked in confusion, eventually finding a seemingly reasonable explanation for herself:
“Maybe… they are just really, really close friends. After spending a long time together, even their handwriting slowly became similar? Yeah, that must be it.”
At that time, she whispered to herself before rolling over and falling into a deep sleep.
She would never have guessed that Teacher Sefina’s best friend had already passed away long ago…
The “replies from Theresa” that Sefina cherished were all written by Sefina herself.
During countless silent nights, she had used her own hand to write them stroke by stroke, imitating the tone and voice of her best friend from memory.
The reason behind this seemingly bizarre behavior was heartbreakingly simple, yet suffocatingly heavy…
It was simply because — because of Sefina’s overflowing longing.
***
Meanwhile, in the temporary guest room of the underground chamber.
Feliel suddenly propped herself up from the bed. The pain from her wounds caused her to gasp, but the pain was far less than the shock in her heart.
Her eyes widened, and she looked at Sefina’s back in disbelief. She blurted out almost subconsciously:
“What… what kind of joke are you playing?”
The moment the words left her mouth, Feliel knew she was wrong.
Sefina didn’t seem like, and could never be, the kind of person who would play such a cruel joke.
But… writing letters to a dead person? That was just too… too…
No.
Feliel suddenly choked up. She thought of herself, and those days when she talked to herself while facing the sleeping Campbell.
She seemed to… suddenly understand. That desire to speak, that longing for a response — even if it was a self-deceptive one — could provide a moment of solace.
“I am not joking with you,” Sefina said coldly, her voice devoid of any warmth.
She seemed to have completely lost interest in continuing the letter. She gently placed her quill on the stand and slowly turned her head.
The clear, bright moonlight spilled down through the transom window. Sefina’s burgundy eyes were not focused on anything tangible; she simply stared blankly at the silver moon in the night sky.
The moonlight fell on her expressionless profile, outlining a fragile and detached beauty.
Only the sound of the two people breathing remained in the room.
Feliel’s heart beat heavily in her chest. Looking at Sefina’s silhouette bathed in the moonlight, an indescribable bitterness and sympathy welled up in her heart.
She pursed her dry lips and spoke very softly, her voice cautious:
“How… did she die?”
Sefina’s long eyelashes fluttered. She lowered her eyes slightly, withdrawing her gaze from the distant moon to look at Feliel’s shocked face.
After a few seconds of silence, Sefina spoke clearly in her cool voice:
“Because of… **[Black Utopia]**.”
Feliel’s pupils contracted to their limit in an instant.
A terrifying guess took shape in her mind.
The reason Sefina had infiltrated The Organization… her deep understanding and hostility toward them…
“So, the reason you infiltrated The Organization was…”
Sefina did not look at her again. Instead, she turned her gaze back to the indifferent moon outside the window.
Her eyes grew complicated, but her words were filled with determination and resolve:
“Revenge.”
So that was it. Feliel trembled slightly; all the clues were connected at this moment.
I am not the heavenly way, nor am I the Monarch’s law; I am no hero, and I am no savior.
“I am not a person with a great sense of justice. Everything I do is only to… make the one who caused my best friend’s tragic death pay the price.”
Sefina’s voice was not loud, but it carried an ironclad determination.
Feliel was completely speechless, only able to stare at Sefina in a daze.
The massive amount of information hit her hard. It turned out… it turned out the seemingly cold and powerful Sefina had been carrying such a heavy past and such deep-seated hatred all alone.
Feliel was suddenly in a trance as she realized something…
Perhaps the reason Sefina had chosen to give her a chance to leave The Organization first in the orphanage attic — despite being able to kill her easily — was likely because…
Because Sefina’s past experiences were similar to her own.
No wonder she had said at the time: “If possible, I don’t want to drive you to a dead end.”
She only felt a sliver of… pity because of their similar circumstances — an empathy based on shared suffering.
It was also no wonder that when she believed Feliel had chosen to side with The Organization, her attacks became so merciless and her words so final.
Perhaps… she had also been like Feliel, trying every possible way, attempting countless reasonable or absurd methods just to bring her best friend back to life, only for…
Every single one to end in failure.
She had already experienced the pain of falling from the peak of hope into the abyss of despair. That was why she maintained a nearly cruel level of clarity regarding Feliel’s unrealistic fantasies.
Feliel’s heart was filled with complicated emotions. She felt an indescribable bitterness and heartache for this girl who seemed indestructible.
No wonder… she appeared to be about the same age as her, with an even more petite frame, yet she was far more mature in temperament, strategy, and decisiveness.
The moonlight still spilled quietly through the transom, stretching the shadows of the two people long against the wall.
(End of Volume)