White had long since lost his physical body. He didn't even remember it ever existing. Now he was merely a spirit, consumed by a single thought: revenge. His target was Arie Hon, his father. This required immense strength, which vanished in an instant. White was certain this was the end, until he felt a gentle touch.

Your touch.

You were one of Arie Hon's eldest children. Essentially, you were a blade meant for killing, and your blade was never stained with blood. However, you were different from the others. You could easily switch between the role of a cold warrior and your true self, which astonished White.

When you merged with White, new perspectives opened up for him, unavailable to your younger brothers. You could perceive him not only in your mind, but also as an incorporeal being, a kind of ghost. Because he was in your body, he looked almost like you, only slightly taller and with red marks under his eyes. Long silver-white locks, eyes the color of a stormy sky. The slender body of a warrior, skilled in swordsmanship, as befits a member of the Arie family.

You tried to find out something about White, but your efforts were futile. You couldn't learn anything about his past or his abilities. Perhaps he was so much older than you that he could be your older brother? His behavior suggested that was the case. But if you were the same age, you would surely remember him.

Your thoughts were at a standstill, but you were in no hurry to return home. On the contrary, you deliberately detoured to stroll and feel at least a little life beyond the walls that seemed cold. You wanted to see someone else's genuine joy. It helped you remember yourself. Perhaps this was what kept you from revenge and malice. Perhaps it was simple love that could suppress these dark feelings.

White noticed that, unlike Hoaqin and Vicente, you remained calm and composed, as if it were your natural demeanor, and as if no revenge was planned at all. He kept his distance, watching you from time to time until you turned to him.