Reborn As An Extra : I'm gonna mess up everything

Before starting the chapter, You might have remember, I asked a question that, If they find a child then who'll take care of child... Esdeath Or Maruti.

And yeah, All of you said esdeath... But Now the time has come, You should tell me what kind of appearance should I give to that child?

I mean, Half black and half white/silver hair? I mean she is related to kaelith so... But still haven't decided yet, so please give me your suggestions...

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Esdeath's eyes fluttered open, but this time, it wasn't her. This time, "he" was awake—Fable. 

His vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness washed over him, making it feel as though he had just awakened from a sleep that spanned centuries. Slowly, he rubbed his eyes, and as his senses sharpened, a strange realization hit him. He wasn't lying down. He was standing. 

Completely naked.

Shock coursed through him as he glanced down at himself. "Did I… return to my body?" he wondered aloud. The thought filled him with a strange mixture of relief and confusion, but before he could dwell on it, his eyes fell on something—or rather, someone—lying on the ground a short distance ahead. 

It was a girl with raven-black hair, her body still and lifeless as though she had fainted. Her skin was pale as snow, so hauntingly delicate it seemed unreal. And yet, what caught Fable's attention the most wasn't her beauty or her fragile state. It was the fact that she was unmistakably the real Esdeath Crimson. 

For a moment, he could only stare, a mixture of awe and disbelief spreading through him. But before he could make sense of it all, he finally noticed their surroundings. 

They were standing in a vast, endless void. It stretched in every direction, a blank expanse of pure white with no beginning or end. 

Fable's brows furrowed as unease settled in his chest. "Where am I? Heaven? Who in their right mind would let someone like me into heaven?" he muttered under his breath, a bitter smile briefly flickering across his lips. 

But just as the thought crossed his mind, the void began to shift. Slowly, colors seeped into the emptiness like paint spreading across a blank canvas. At first, it was faint—streaks of green, brown, and blue—then more vivid, until the scene around him changed entirely. 

The ground beneath his feet became soft grass, the air filled with the sweet chirping of birds and the distant sounds of animals. He looked around, his heart racing, as he found himself standing in what appeared to be a village from centuries past. 

The village was quaint, with modest wooden houses scattered across the landscape, smoke curling from chimneys, and people going about their lives. Everything seemed alive, yet strangely surreal, like a memory brought to life. 

And then, his gaze was drawn to something—or someone—at the center of it all. 

A large tree stood tall and proud in the middle of the village, its branches sprawling wide, its leaves rustling softly in the breeze. It wasn't enormous, but it towered just enough to feel significant, commanding attention without overwhelming the scene. 

Tied to the tree by thick ropes was a woman. The ropes were wrapped tightly around her waist, binding her to the trunk, yet her hands were free. She made no effort to escape, no attempt to untie herself. Instead, she held something in her hands. 

A harp.

"Esdeath?" Fable muttered.

The woman standing before him was hauntingly familiar. Her features mirrored Esdeath's, yet they bore the unmistakable marks of time and something far more sinister. Her hair was pitch black, cascading down her back like an endless shadow and were as big as her body, and her skin was ghostly white, almost luminescent, like freshly fallen snow under the moonlight.