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The Name That Shouldnt Be

  Narrator: [monotone, passing time] Ashura spent the entire day occupied with Benihime's tests.

  Ashura: [exhausted, slurring slightly, rubbing his eyes] "Benihime... I'm getting sleepy. Aren't you done with your work?"

  Benihime: [bowing, professional but relieved] "It is finished now, my lord. Please sleep well. Until tomorrow."

  Ashura—still thinking of himself as Raiden—lay down on the bed. He stared at the ceiling, the ornate patterns blurring into meaningless shapes.

  Raiden: [internal monologue, spiraling, voice barely a whisper] "What if everything is just a lie? Who would prove it to me? That Anka army... all those suicides... the battles... the losses... were they all just part of a dream? Why do these things always happen to me? And why can't I remember anything?"

  He squeezed his eyes shut.

  Raiden: [forcing practicality over despair] "Now isn't the time to think about this. I'm tired. I need to sleep."

  Darkness claimed him.

  Then—

  Voice: [resonant, commanding, emerging from absolute blackness—repeating, insistent] "Ashura... Ashura... ASHURA..."

  Suho: [cheerful, loud, completely breaking the spell] "Ashura! Aren't you going to wake up already?"

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  Ashura bolted upright, heart hammering, disoriented, defensive instincts screaming.

  Ashura: [accusatory, betrayed, backing away] "You too? Who are you? I knew it—you're all deceiving me!"

  Suho moved slowly, casually, and flicked Ashura's forehead with his finger.

  Suho: [affectionate exasperation, like an older brother scolding a puppy] "You were an idiot when you were small, and you're still an idiot. Don't you ever grow up?"

  Ashura: [indignant, rubbing his forehead, childish anger flaring] "Idiot? Who are you calling an idiot?"

  Suho laughed. Warm, genuine, unguarded.

  Suho: [proud, fond, arms crossed] "There it is. That's my little brother."

  Ashura: [confused, walls cracking slightly] "Your... brother?"

  Suho: [shaking his head, amused but pitying] "Seriously, just like they said—you don't remember anything, do you? Walking around claiming to be 'Raiden' and all."

  Suho: [extending hand, formal but friendly] "By the way, I'm Suho Daemon. Twenty-five years old."

  Ashura: [weary, overwhelmed, counting mentally] "How many more people do I have to meet?"

  Suho: [grinning, counting on fingers] "From the family? I'm the last one."

  Ashura: [genuine relief, shoulders dropping] "Good. Finally."

  Suho: [clapping hands together, businesslike] "Oh, right—we need to go shopping."

  Ashura: [suspicious, tired] "Why?"

  Suho: [mocking whisper, gesturing vaguely upward] "Those old geezers love their secrets. They're planning some kind of grand celebration ball for your awakening. Can't exactly go in your current clothes."

  They went shopping. Ashura found this world increasingly alien—strange architecture, strange customs, strange everything. They passed an elderly sorcerer.

  Sorcerer: [ancient, knowing, voice carrying unnatural weight] "Raiden..."

  Ashura froze. Then, without turning, continued walking.

  Ashura: [cold, dangerous, not breaking stride] "Keep walking. How do you know that name?"

  The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the old man's smile faded into shadow.

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