His final battle, Her final choice

You, the hero-her hero- were always like the moonlight to her, brightening her heart with warmth. Always the kind and sweet-hearted one. But did she ever know that I was the sun, the one who gave you—her moon—that light, just so she could feel safe and warm? Did she ever realize that I, the cold-hearted villain, always gave her the last piece of kindness left inside me, unlike you, who gave her the same kindness you gave to everyone?

No one ever questioned why I became a villain. But you, the hero to everyone, knew my story. And yet, you became the villain in my life, in my story. Do heroes do that? You knew every ounce of pain I suffered, every shard of glass that pierced my heart, yet you remained silent. Why did you do that?

His words carried the weight of heavy pain—disappointment, hatred, and heartbreak reflected in his eyes. His sword’s edge was pointed at the hero’s neck.

“No, don’t kill him!” she screamed, tears rolling down her face.

“Hero… get up and kill him!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

The one I had longed for an eternity wanted to see me die. I could destroy the world for her, but she completely destroyed me.

He lowered his sword, only for the hero to immediately point his at the villain’s neck.

She wants me to die… I will fulfill her every wish. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’ve already lost her, so what meaning does life hold now? If my existence brings her sorrow, then let my absence bring her peace.”

His voice was soft, almost gentle—like the final whisper of a dying star. He closed his eyes as if surrendering to fate, the weight of unspoken love heavier than the sword at his throat.

“Keep her happy,” he murmured. “That’s all I ever wanted.”