Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son - Chapter 201 [Island Of Drath] [16] [Inder Sephtis]
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Chapter 201 [Island Of Drath] [16] [Inder Sephtis]
[Earth]
[Six days after Sephtis family incident] n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
In the packed room lit by a dim light hanging just above the table.
A boy no more than fifteen sat on one side of the table.
His messy hair roughly arranged, his blue eyes staring blankly at his hands, bound by handcuffs.
Tear marks streamed down both his cheeks, dried up from crying for so long.
Detective Roul, a tall man with a solid build, stood behind him, looking at the boy, trying his best to hide his disgust.
“You will be trialed tomorrow,” his voice echoed within the room, “…If you want to hire a professional lawyer, this is your last chance.”
Inder didn’t reply but kept staring at his hands.
“Someone from your father’s side wants to see you as well,” Roul continued, gazing at the wall in front,
“…They want to talk about… your father’s property. According to your father’s will, you will be the next owner, and they don’t want that.”
Inder turned back, his blank gaze met his face, and with a broken voice, he asked, “…Who are ‘they’?”
“Your uncles,” Roul replied, looking down at him.
Inder turned around, looking at his hands again. “…I will donate his property to an orphanage.”
“Just so you know, that won’t help you in court,” Roul commented, looking away.
An eerie silence continued; no one spoke a single word.
Roul took out his phone as it vibrated.
Flipping it open, he looked at the number before picking it up.
“Yes, Detective Martinez?” he said, looking at the door beside the wall.
“Hmm?” his confused voice echoed within the room as he looked at the boy.
“I will inform him,” he replied, hanging up with a confused and frustrated look on his face.
“Congratulations,” he said, his voice mocking, “…Seems like someone wants to save you.”
Inder turned around, looking at him, “What do you mean?”
“Someone anonymous hired the best lawyer in the country for you,” Roul commented, his brows knitted together, “…. Someone who is close to you.”
“….I see,” Inder replied with no speck of interest in his voice.
A knock on the door made their heads turn.
Roul walked closer before opening the door, greeted by a police officer.
“…Senara’s mother is here,” he said, making way for her to go in.
Inder shut his eyes, his head drooping subconsciously.
The sound of footsteps echoed, accompanied by the scratching of a chair against the floor.
A complete silence lingered as a woman sat in front of him.
Roul stood beside Inder, ready to interfere if necessary.
“Inder,” her half-broken voice echoed, making him tremble, “…Look at me.”
He refused, hanging his head even lower.
“Look at me, Inder!” she yelled, slamming her hand on the table hard.
Inder flinched, looking up, and his heart sank deeply.
…She looked weak and frail, nothing like what he remembered.
She wore an overcoat, even though it wasn’t that cold.
But what made his heart clench was her face… because he could see her.
…He could see Senara in her.
Tears streamed down her face as she looked at Inder, the boy she had liked so much—the same boy who took everything from her.
“…Why?” she asked, tears welling in her eyes, “…Why… did you kill her?”
His lips parted as if to say something, but no voice came out.
“What did she do to deserve it?”
He averted his gaze away from her.
“Remember, I told you once, after Senara’s birth, I could never get pregnant again,” she whispered, her voice filled with sadness, “…Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to see my only family die?”
Roul looked at the woman with pity; her soulless voice made him uncomfortable.
“…You had no right to take her away from me,” she whispered, her voice rising, “….To take away my FAMILY!”
She leaned back in the chair as Inder kept looking at her blankly. “…The reports say she was the first one to die, even before your parents… Why?”
He lowered his head, his body trembling as he tried to stop himself from crying.
“…Senara was your friend, right?” she asked, glaring at him, “RIGHT?”
“Y-yes,” he replied, nodding his head.
“…No, not just friends….she loved you, Inder,” she whispered softly, looking at him, “…She truly loved you… I don’t know what she did for you to kill her.”
Placing her hand on the table, she grabbed her head, looking down as tears trickled down, soaking the table below.
“…I wish I had stopped her from going to your house that day,” she mumbled, her head still down, “…You don’t know how dearly I wish I had done that.”
A silence lingered between them.
Inder’s gaze remained fixed on the table, unable to look at her.
“Do you know what the last conversation I had with her was?” she asked, looking at him, a sad smile on her face,
“…It was about you… about how she was going to kidnap you if you didn’t accept her.”
Inder chuckled softly, but his voice came out as a whimper.
He knew she would definitely say something like that.
“…How stupid I was to actually believe that both of you would be happy together,” she grumbled, slamming her fist on the table again and again, “…How stupid.”
She slowly stood up from her seat and looked down at him.
Her hand slipped inside her overcoat as she glared at him.
Her lips parted again as she whispered, her hand slowly retracting, “…Senara isn’t breathing, and you don’t deserve to breathe either.”
“Ma’am!” Roul shouted, taking out his gun from the waist holder, “Put down the gun, please!”
Inder looked at her, pointing the gun tip in front of his face.
“Don’t try to make things worse, ma’am!” Roul yelled, trying to knock some sense into her, “I assure you, the court will punish him properly!”
“…I will never forget my daughter’s death,” ignoring Roul’s words, she whispered, glaring at Inder, “And…You deserve something worse than death.”
“It’s an emergency!” Roul yelled, the sound of footsteps echoing from outside.
Inder closed his eyes, aligning his head with the gun’s tip.
…And she noticed it.
The door slammed open, police officers entering.
“…I curse you,” she whispered weakly, looking at him,
“…One day, someone you hold dearly will die in front of you… and you won’t be able to do anything about it.” …A gunshot echoed within the room.
…Inder slowly opened his eyes.
“…..”
…He looked at Senara’s mother.
…Who had shot herself.
…
…
…
A thunder flashed across the horizon.
Heavy rain poured down, soaking everything within the island.
At the center of the forest, a boy with purple hair sat on the ground, holding the cold body of a girl in his embrace.
A odisian-coloured crown adorned his head, hovering gently above him.
His blue eyes looked blankly at the pale face of the girl.
“…Hey,” he whispered weakly, shaking her body slowly in an attempt to wake her up.
But she didn’t.
No signs of life were present in her body.
“…Shyamal?” he whispered again, gently removing the strand of hair from her face, “…Hey, wake up.”
[<She is dead, Qais>]
A voice echoed in his head, telling him the truth.
“…Why?” he asked, looking at the girl, “…I did everything I could to keep my promise to Shane… Then why?”
[<…..>]
Inna remained silent; she didn’t have an answer. All she could do was watch over him.
Another thunder flashed, making him look up at the sky.
His face suddenly contorted with anger, his body trembling.
“…I will kill her,” he grunted, clenching his fist hard enough to turn it white, “…I will kill her for deceiving me for this long.”
[<You can’t do that; you’re not strong enough right now.>]
“…Shut up,” he grimaced, looking at the silver-haired girl again, “…Stop trying to remind me that I’m so weak.”
[<Qais—>]
Her voice abruptly cut off, as if someone severed the connection.
“Inna?” Inder whispered softly, confused, “…What happened to you—?”
“What dost thou want?” A voice whispered in his mind, a voice so close it felt like it came from his very soul, a creepy, twisted, broken voice that hardly made any sense.
“…What dost thou want, I shall provide.” The broken voice echoed in his mind again.
A burning red mark slowly began to emerge on his face as Azariah tried to make sense of the words.
“…Wouldst thou seek freedom?” His face hardened as he finally realized whose voice it was.
“…Wouldst thou seek revenge?” “…What do you want?”
Azariah asked, his voice strained as the red mark on his head started to glow brighter.
The voice replied, its words becoming clearer as the mark intensified.
“…Thou desires nothing but revenge on Pleroma.” Azariah fell silent at those words.
He had never known what his ultimate goal was.
…But now he does.
“Thou is The Black Mirror of Destiny, Sabbath… …And thou desires The Bloody Sun to become his new Avatar.”