Ascension Of The Villain
Chapter 342 - 342: What Haunts You?

Vyan felt like he was drifting through a dream too long to remember the beginning of. The kind of dream where time curled in on itself, where the hours whispered eternity.

His feet moved, yet he couldn't say why. For what purpose? His heart beat, yet it felt hollow and muted, like it was echoing in someone else's chest.

The place he wandered around… was it a palace? Because the house was so big. It was never-ending.

The countless hallways blurred into each other, ceilings stretched high above, ranging from ballrooms to bed chambers, and every door he opened led him further from familiarity.

Faces passed him, voices murmured in tongues he once might have known. But none of it was his. Nothing called to him. Or maybe they did. It was him he couldn't recognize.

Then, the light began to die.

Shadows thickened. And ahead, there were stairs. Worn stone steps spiraling downward, where warmth didn't follow.

His legs followed the inviting darkness. He descended.

It was darker there. Not just the kind that comes from the absence of light, but the kind that sinks into your bones. The only glow came from small torches flickering on the walls, their flames struggling to hold themselves together.

And then, he stopped.

A cell in the dungeon.

The bars looked daunting.

Inside, a woman lay on the cold floor. She was wrapped in a military uniform, tattered and soaked in blood, the edges torn, the colors dulled by layers of grime. Her platinum hair, which once glowed brightly under the sunshine, was matted with dirt and clotted crimson.

She was curled on her side. Her cheek pressed against the cracked concrete, her breath shallow. Dried blood clung to her skin, like a cruel artist had painted pain across her face. But it was her violet eyes that undid him.

Soundless tears streamed down those familiar eyes, soaking the floor beneath her.

Her lips weren't moving. Not a whimper came out of her throat. But he could hear the pleas either way.

Her heart was weeping. Sobbing. Wailing out for help.

Over and over again.

"Vee, please, help me… Where are you? Save me from this hell… I miss you…"

Vyan stood on the other side of the bars. He stared, as if trying to piece together who this woman was. His mind fumbled, his senses refused.

But his heart… his heart knew.

Her unspoken voice echoed through the hollow parts of him.

And just like that, tears welled in his own eyes.

His chest caved in with the weight of her pain. He wanted to run to her. Goddess, he wanted to touch her, wrap his arms around her, brush the blood from her skin, hold her close and whisper, "I'm here, I'll get you out."

But he couldn't.

No matter how he tried, no matter how his soul screamed at his body to move faster, he couldn't cross the distance between them. His legs couldn't bridge the distance. His arms stretched forward, but the space yawned wider.

They weren't just a few steps apart.

It felt like they were galaxies away.

And all he could do was watch. Helplessly.

———

Vyan stirred.

The world met him not with color, nor warmth, but with a sterile white ceiling. A soft, rhythmic beep... beep... pulsed in the background, like a distant heartbeat outside of his body. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic. It was unmistakably a hospital.

How did I end up here…?

He couldn't put the pieces together.

He felt heavy. Numb, as if even his thoughts were wading through fog.

Then, a concerned voice broke through the fog.

"Thank goodness you're awake. Vyan… It's been two weeks..."

He turned his head slightly, and there she was.

Emma.

Her eyes were glassy with unshed joy, a disbelieving smile tugging at her lips. She leaned closer, her hand trembling near his, afraid to touch him.

Her voice, though near, reached him like a whisper through water. Muffled. Muddled. Like he was inside a coffin and she was outside.

He blinked slowly, lips parting, and a murmur left him. But it was too faint to catch.

Emma leaned in, brows furrowed in worry. "What was that, Vyan? Can you repeat it?"

His fragile voice came again, like a leaf underfoot in winter.

"I… I want to go home…"

Relief softened her expression, and she nodded quickly.

"Yes. Yes, you will. Just a few more days here. A week at most, and then we'll bring you home."

But his gaze didn't meet hers. It drifted, empty, far beyond this room, beyond the clean sheets and the hum of machines. His eyes held a deeper ache—one she didn't yet understand.

"No…" he whispered, barely louder than before. "My home… I want to go to my home…"

A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye and carved a path down his temple. Emma's breath hitched.

"Iyana… she was crying… She… she is alone somewhere… scared and hurt. I have to… I have to go… She needs me…" His vision started to blur around the edges, the machine starting to beep more rapidly. "I… can't be here… I—"

And just like that, he was gone again.

His eyes fluttered closed as the world faded from him once more. Silence returned, broken only by the monitor's steady rhythm.

The door clicked open moments later, and a doctor stepped inside, clipboard in hand. "Did he lose consciousness again?"

Emma turned to him quickly and nodded. "That's the second time he has woken up and lost consciousness within a few minutes like this. What's going on? Is he going to be okay?"

The doctor took a long breath and inquired, "Did he recognize you this time?"

Emma paused and thought back on the brief moment Vyan was awake. "I… I think so. He didn't ask who I was this time. He looked at me like he knew I was Emma."

The doctor's shoulders eased. "Then that's a great sign. We were worried about retrograde amnesia. But it seems his memory is intact. He might have just been in a haze when he woke up the first time around last week."

Emma's relief didn't last long. She frowned, eyes drifting back to Vyan's sleeping form.

"But… I think he had a hard time understanding me. He looked like… he couldn't quite grasp what I was saying. He was rambling on his own and crying."

The doctor adjusted the stethoscope around his neck, eyes flicking to the monitors. "This is all normal," he said gently, glancing at Emma. "He suffered a moderate traumatic brain injury. It's natural for him to have difficulty processing things for a few days. His senses will be sluggish. Language might feel distant. Memory, too. He's lucky, really. If the injury had been any more severe… who knows what could've happened? It would've been a real shame for such a young man to lose any major cognitive function."

Emma nodded slowly, arms crossed as if to hold herself together. "So, when he regains consciousness properly, can we take him home?"

The doctor looked thoughtful, then nodded with caution. "We'll need to run some tests first. Cognitive function, motor responses, some scans. Only then can I give you a proper answer. But Mrs. Evans…" He paused. "When you do take him home, you need to be very careful."

She raised her brows, concern tightening the corners of her eyes.

"The wound on his abdomen, it's not healing the way we expected. It could take another month. Possibly longer. His recovery is slow. It may be due to a weak immune system."

"Oh…" Emma whispered.

The doctor sighed, not unkindly. "I understand you lost access to his previous medical history, but… that's something we should've been told. As his guardians, you're the only ones we can rely on for that context."

Emma looked down and said nothing. Because of course, they didn't have the medical records of a man who came from another world—an enchanted world where he wouldn't have to be strapped to machines or rely on the natural immune response of his body, rather he could have been healed in just a few hours with healing potions and magic.

"Anyway, what's done is done." The doctor flipped through the chart in his hand. "When you're given the permission to take him home, I should let you know. Until his abdominal wound closes completely, he can't move around freely. Even slight movement could reopen it and invite infection again. And his head… It's still too sensitive for any kind of strain. His other injuries, such as bruises on the face and fractures on the ribs, they're healing too, albeit slowly."

Emma gave a quiet hum of understanding. The doctor checked his vitals one last time, scribbled a note, then left the room, closing the door behind him with a muted click.

Sighing, Emma stepped closer to the bed. She looked down at Vyan's pale face, the bruises on his face faded but still visible beneath the skin. His dark lashes lay still with fresh tears clinging to them, lips parted slightly, as if caught in the middle of some faraway dream.

Brushing away the tear that had slipped from his eye earlier, she murmured, "Why do you always cry in your dreams? What's haunting you so much…?"

It broke her heart every time she saw tears in Vyan's eyes—the man who looked so much like her husband. It felt like another version of Adrian was crying, and it did something to her chest. The unexplainable connection between her and Vyan made her ache.

"I'm sorry that you ended up like this because of us," she whispered, her voice soft, breaking. "I should've gotten there sooner. I should've found you faster…"

Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to keep speaking. "I don't know if you're listening, but I'll tell you this again when you wake up. So, thank you, Vyan. For protecting my children… for being there when I wasn't. You didn't have to. But you did. For that, Adrian and I will be forever grateful to you. You were like an angel sent from heaven. I can't imagine what might have happened if you hadn't been at our home at that time when those thugs came in, looking for our children. I really can't thank you enough."

A tear slipped quietly from the corner of her eye and landed near his pillow.

She leaned in a little closer, voice barely a breath. "So, please… get well soon. So we can help you get back to your real home… so you can go back to the girl you love and… I hope the pain you're going through right now ends because someone like you doesn't deserve this."

With those words, she let the silence fall back, and she prayed from the bottom of her heart so that Vyan might recover and be able to go home as soon as possible to his loved ones.

Little did she know… that her prayer would remain unanswered for another two months. That Vyan would not wake up until then.