Lackey's Seducing Survival Odyssey

“You are not worthy… No. 28,” the ethereal voice echoed from the Mother Root statue, crouched low before him. Its hollow gaze locked onto Aether, who was desperately trying to pull that thing buried deep under the ground.

Aether’s eyes blinked in disbelief, a sharp tremor running through his spine as he realised the Root Statue was… moving. Slowly, with an eerie grace, the statue lifted itself up. The roots wrapped around its body cracked and strained, snapping like old bark torn by time.

It stood—not like a construct, but like something alive—like a person had returned to that form.

Aether frowned, his jaw tightening, “Not worthy?” he muttered under his breath, fingers clenching tighter around the object he couldn’t yank free. He pulled again, his muscles tensed—but it refused to move, not even an inch.

Whatever it was, it wouldn’t budge.

“Told you… No. 28,” the Root murmured, voice laced with amusement. It turned its head slowly toward the rotating Ebon Stone.

“There are things in this world that only a rare few can do…” It turned its blank gaze back to him. “And you are most certainly not one of them. You walk around like you’ve figured it all out… like you’re above the rest…” Its voice dimmed into something flat and heavy. “But really… what. do. you. even. know?”

It stared at Aether like it could see right through him, and continued speaking—slow, deliberate.

“I did wrong, is that it? I’m pathetic? I failed them… the ones who trusted me? The ones who bled for me, fought for me, believed in me, loved me… and in the end, were thrown aside like nothing?” The tendrils of its hands lazily twirled the glowing globe resting in its palm. “Are you truly convinced it was all my fault? That I simply watched them fall without lifting a finger?”

Aether’s glare darkened, “I am fucking sure,” he hissed, his voice full of fury and pain. “You never cared. Not once. You only ever cared about yourself… not the people… never the people.”

The Root didn’t flinch. It simply stared back at him with empty sockets, hollow and unmoved, before finally responding in a low, shaking voice,

“I am a god… and I have every right to judge what I believe is right.

I never turned away from my people.

I never left those who needed me.

I never ignored those who cried out in despair, or fought, or…” the voice cracked, trembling, “…especially those who died for me! I would never… ever abandon them!” The declaration thundered through the air, so powerful it seemed to rattle the very foundations of the empire.

Aether’s ears rang, his chest rising with breath, and for a moment, it felt like her voice had clawed into something deep inside him—pain, grief, loss. He could hear her sorrow… feel it vibrating in his bones.

But he didn’t care.

Not now.

Not after everything.

He wouldn’t fall for this… this manipulative act… Not her… Not again!

The Root’s attention shifted again, its gaze locking onto the Ebon Stone spinning slowly above. Its thick roots gripped the base, turning it with a wild fury.

It muttered, voice almost lost in the storm of old memories,

“Yes, I stood still while my empire was torn apart.

Yes, I sat on this stone and watched flames devour everything I loved.

I remember every cry, every face… every scream.

Not one moment of their pain has ever left me… not even after all this time.”

“No. 25… Aether was one of them,” it continued, quieter now, almost tender.

“I watched his life descend into chaos.

He gave up everything—his peace, his future—just to keep his word.

Just to protect the people he swore to shield. He did it all for a deal I made… one I never truly thought he would take so seriously.

I only offered him freedom… and asked in return that he protect them.

And he did…. Without complaint. Without hesitation.

Even when I abandoned him… even when he cried out, begging me to come back… to help save my people… he still stood his ground and held his promise. He gave everything. To the very core of his soul.

I will always… always be grateful to that man. But I never betrayed hi—”

“Don’t lie to me, bitch!” Aether roared, teeth gritted, fury roaring in his chest. “I remember it all! I fucking remember what you did! What you didn’t do!!” He yanked on the rod with renewed force, filled with rage and anguish.

The Root turned to him slowly, its voice cold and sharp now. “You speak like you’ve seen the truth. Like you’ve walked every path… But you don’t even know who you are, do you? You’re just another broken piece… trying to act whole. That’s what’s truly pathetic.”

Veins throbbed on Aether’s forehead. His grip loosened on the rod as he slowly stood up, rising from the dirt with a blank expression, his eyes locked onto the Root. He looked ready to tear her apart, every inch of him trembling with the urge to unleash.

Then—

“Let me ask you something…” the Root interrupted with a strange calm. Its voice was soft, yet oddly curious. “What are you? Tell me that. Are you him? Or maybe… that other one? Or… someone else entirely? Just who the hell are you, Mr. 28?”

Aether froze mid-step. He blinked slowly, confusion flickering behind his eyes. “…I am… Aether.”

“Hmm… Aether…” the Root repeated, voice growing more distant. “…but which Aether?” it asked again, head tilting to the side with a slow creak, like an ancient tree bending in the wind.

Aether blankly stared at it, his breath shallow. “I am… Aether. The one and only Aether.”

The Root stared back at him in silence for a moment, before suddenly bursting into laughter. “Hahah… HAHAHAHAHA!” It laughed loud and wild, like it had just heard the most absurd joke in existence.

Aether frowned, a vein twitching near his eye. “I’m not sure what’s so funny here.”

The Root merely shrugged, trying to contain its amusement. “No, no… it’s just… aha… the previous you said the exact same thing. ‘The one and only’… how poetic it all sounds.” Its voice grew quieter, more serious now, “But you can never be the one, No.28. Just like I told you before—you’re trying to balance something that was never meant to be balanced.” [A/N: Any idea when?]

“You’re chasing equilibrium that can never be chased or… even thought of it! And in doing that… you’ll eventually die. Just like the others. And when you’re gone, another one will rise, saying the same thing… ‘I am the one and only.’ Hah… funny, isn’t it? Endlessly tragic, but still funny.”

Aether clenched his fist so tightly his knuckles turned pale. He bit his lip, holding back the tide of anger, sorrow, and bitter acceptance.

As much as he wanted to scream back, to deny it all—he couldn’t.

Deep down, he knew.

He knew how his life had played out up to now. There had never been certainties. No promises kept. No final victory. Just a cycle—he dies, he returns, he fixes what he can… then breaks again…. Again and again.

Nothing else.

And someday, maybe even soon, he might vanish entirely. Just like the countless versions before him. Not because he wanted to. But because that’s how it had always been.

Aether gritted his teeth, the heat of defiance burning in his eyes. He stood tall and steady, raising his face to the Root as his voice rang with raw, stubborn resolve.

“Yeah, you might be right. I might die again…. And I might be forgotten like all the others.

But not this time.” His voice cracked, then steadied again,

“This time, I won’t disappear…. There are people who depend on me… There are women who love me, who wait for me…. Children who look to me like I’m some kind of light in all this darkness…”

“This is who I am…. Aether.

Not a number.

Not a ghost of memories.

Not just some recycled soul walking in someone else’s footsteps.

I am me—born between actors, thrown aside, mocked, forgotten, forced, seduced, broken. I am just me… but I carry the memories of those who came before so they won’t be forgotten by me… That’s all.”

He stepped forward, slowly but without hesitation. Each step carried weight, not just of his body, but of every version of himself that had walked before, “And I know the truth… You’re not free. You’re chained, trapped in this place. Caged like some forgotten god. Am I wrong? Or was it you… Who called out to me?”

“…”

The Root stared at Aether, unmoving. Then it whispered, quiet but clear, “That’s quite the observation skill you’ve got there…” It neither confirmed nor denied.

Aether’s lips curved into a subtle, confident smirk. “I don’t know your face. But I’ve heard your voice more than enough to never forget it. Clara.”

“…” The Root’s expression darkened for a moment. Its frown deepened, staring at him longer than before, as if searching his eyes for something. Then, the glowing globe in its tendril-like hand began to pulsate with violent light, energy surging through its core.

“The time has come,” it said in a voice heavy with fate. “The people will face the truth without their protection. This is how it was meant to be. This is how it will always be.”

“At the end of every beginning… I will be there.”

The globe’s glow intensified until it was blinding.

Then—

BOOOOMMMMM!!!!!

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