Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death

***

{Outside The Projection}

Just as the projection paused before an utterly stunned audience, a familiar sound slammed their ears like thunder.

HOOOT!

Every single soul in the hall spun around.

Their eyes met—

“SINBAD?!”

And indeed, there he was.

The little giant.

Sinbad.

Gasps. Shouts. Curses.

They all resounded at once.

Chaos had taken over, and not only them, but the entire world.

The massive crimson owl calmly strode through the crowd like royalty.

People in the back scrambled aside, tripping over themselves to get out of his way.

“No way—”

“NO FUCKING WAY—”

“YOU WERE SINBAD THIS WHOLE TIME?!”

“What the hell?!”

“Why didn’t you SAY anything?!”

“That’s Lady Huda’s brother?! HER brother?!”

“All this time he was just… hanging around?! Watching?!”

Even the elders whispered now.

No one had seen it coming.

They had seen the hints, but still…

Somehow, this was a twist they didn’t expect.

Sinbad, the twist in question, didn’t seem to care, though.

He just kept walking, each step echoing in their heads.

And he wasn’t alone.

Behind him, barefoot and shirtless, trailed a man no one noticed.

No one looked twice at him, because all eyes were locked on… him.

The massive owl.

The brother.

Sinbad.

But then—

“BIG BROTHHHEEEEEEEEEER!”

A flash of wind exploded forward—Huda.

Her body rocketed through the air, crying, desperate to reach him.

“SINBA—”

THUD!

Her face smashed into an invisible wall.

Crack.

She hit the ground hard, groaning, barely conscious, air knocked clean out of her lungs.

Huda didn’t get back up.

Sinbad glanced down at her, showing no surprise or pity.

Just after a slow blink, he lowered his left wing… tap.

A small touch on her head.

A wordless apology.

Then he moved on.

Right to the front.

Right to Noor.

The floating woman.

The untouchable emperor.

She watched him approach, relaxing her back in her throne—

Until Sinbad looked up.

And said one word:

“Fall.”

CRASH.

Her throne shattered.

She slammed into the ground, mountains of weight on her back.

The marble cracked, the protection runes useless against such an attack.

Noor couldn’t move, couldn’t even lift her head.

Her whole body was locked.

She was caught unaware and paid the price.

Her system couldn’t help her. Her gravity control couldn’t either.

Even her camp—her subordinates—were useless. Frozen solid. Trapped mid-step like those Weeping Angels Malik faced all those years ago.

Sinbad stared down at her.

“My Elder Brother never cared for you.”

Noor’s face cracked. Her eyes wide. Disbelieving.

“He held no hatred for you, only indifference. You were simply an obstacle that repeatedly stood in his path… a boring obstacle.”

His eyes brightened at her beyond kneeling figure.

“You see him as perfect, but he is not. Cease your twisted fantasy, you wench.”

And just like that, the pressure vanished.

She gasped like she’d been drowning and quickly pushed herself up, getting into a combative stance.

Sinbad didn’t seem to care, though, not sparing her another glance as he walked on.

His destination?

Roya.

She stood tall at his approach, back straight.

Knowing that Sinbad wasn’t dumb enough to start a war, she didn’t raise a weapon.

She just looked at him, like she’d been expecting this.

Sinbad looked her up and down, scanning her.

“Elder Brother knows of your reason for revenge… He saw through you since the days of the Academy.”

Her blue eyes widened.

“He let you go because he pitied you.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

Silence.

Roya said nothing.

She just lowered her head.

“He’s no God for you to worship.”

With that final comment, Sinbad passed her and stopped in front of two more.

Safira.

Layla.

One a disciple.

The other… a wife.

Sinbad turned to Safira.

His pink eyes didn’t blink.

“You continue to disappoint me.”

She clenched her fists, jaw tight.

Though she hated it, she couldn’t help but agree with his words.

All her life, she was a disappointment, especially so to Malik.

“But… you’re still his disciple… Even if he thought otherwise.”

Her mouth opened slightly, and she slowly nodded her head.

A smile grew on her face, while Sinbad’s gaze moved to Layla.

“Sister-in-law…”

She looked up.

Tears were streaming down her face. Quiet. Gentle.

He nodded once.

She stepped forward.

And he embraced her.

His massive wings wrapped around her, tucking her into his soft, warm feathers.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t lecture.

Didn’t comfort.

He just held her.

And somehow…

That said everything.

“I-I’m so sorry…”

Layla wept.

Loud, grieving sobs.

And not a single soul in that hall dared interrupt.

***

{Inside The Projection}

The owl blinked.

He didn’t hoot, or flap his wings.

Black just… kept embracing him.

And that was answer enough.

Malik’s breath hitched.

Tears didn’t come… He was long past that.

But his chest cracked open—quiet and deep and old.

“Why… didn’t you say anything?”

His voice was hoarse. Nearly gone.

It wasn’t his voice anymore.

Still, the owl didn’t reply.

Didn’t need to.

And yet, Malik heard it anyway.

“You could always hear me.”

His whole body trembled.

Half from the poison, half from the realization.

All those years…

He’d thought he was alone.

Every time he said no one understood him.

Every time he felt like he was rotting from the inside out.

Sinbad had been there.

Watching.

Waiting.

Not as a ghost.

Not as a memory.

But as his last, true companion.

His only one.

Malik stared at the feathers embracing him.

The owl cooed a second time and hopped onto his chest.

He was light.

Weightless.

But real.

And for a second, Malik wasn’t dying.

He was just a young teen again, lying on the dirt after a hunt for food, staring at the dark up above, Sinbad beside him, laughing, cursing, bragging about nothing—

“Sorry.”

The owl tilted his head.

“I should’ve saved you.”

His feathers fluttered.

A soft breeze passed.

He leaned forward—

Thump.

And tapped his head against Malik’s second heart.

Once.

Twice.

And just like that—

THUMP!

His heart began to beat.

The poison was leaving his system.

His vision cleared, just a little.

His breathing evened.

Hoot!

The owl nodded his little head and stepped off Malik.

Feeling strength returning to his body, Malik sat up, his arms shaky, his lungs on fire.

Not caring for any of that, the owl calmly perched on his shoulder, returning home.

Malik looked at him, then down at his own hands.

They didn’t tremble anymore.

Still hurt.

Still weak.

But the poison’s grip had loosened.

He wasn’t fully healed.

But he was on the way there.

He looked back at the owl—Sinbad.

“…You want to go somewhere to talk?”

Sinbad gave the closest thing to a shrug a bird could manage.

“If you so wish.”

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