Chapter 77: Split in Two
Dante Quasar’s office was a kaleidoscope of wonder as always. It looked different from the last time Hermes was here, but intrinsically the same psychedelic dreamscape.
Shifting glass windows swirled with cosmic patterns, as if a nebula lived behind the walls. Paperwork floated mid-air beside stardust chandeliers. The coffee table had no legs, yet hovered steadily, carrying an untouched teacup that never cooled.
And Hermes sat in the center of it all, shoulders slumped, arms cradling the bundled infant asleep in his lap. He hadn’t said a word yet.
Until now.
"...I lost control."
Dante didn’t respond. Not immediately. He simply leaned back in his velvet-bone chair, eyes unreadable behind those shimmering glasses. The CEO of The Golden Apple Guild didn’t ask for more details. He allowed Hermes to keep talking.
So Hermes did.
He recounted the protests. The boy. The Megamantis. The moment he felt himself slip. The beast that rose, the world that burned, the line between protection and destruction blurring like ash in smoke.
"I wasn’t there anymore," Hermes said quietly. "Not really. I just watched from somewhere deep inside. And when I woke up... he was smaller. Different."
Still, Dante didn’t react with shock or judgment. If anything, he looked... thoughtful. Curious. As if this scenario was one of a hundred he had already considered in advance.
"And why have you come to me, Hermes?" he finally asked, voice smooth. "Are you here to cover it up? To beg me not to remove your badge? The Golden Guild has its standards, but casualties are... regrettably normal in our line of work."
"I’m not here to escape punishment," Hermes replied, lifting his head. His voice shook, but it was steady. "I’m here to ask for something else."
He stared into Dante’s refracted eyes.
"I beg you to separate me from the beast inside me."
Silence.
Even the swirling constellations behind Dante’s chair froze for a moment.
The CEO set down his teacup.
"...There it is." He said, almost smiling. "I knew this was coming."
Hermes blinked. "You... expected this?"
"I did." Dante said simply, steepling his fingers. "But that doesn’t mean I think it’s the right path. Multitudes is a messy art, even when used on oneself."
"Messy." Hermes repeated, his voice low.
"Yes." Dante stood now, circling his desk. "You must understand what you’re asking. The beast is you. It shares your memories, instincts, even your pain. You’ve already seen what happens when it’s in control."
"I don’t want that to happen again." Hermes said.
"I understand. But if I split you, the beast will not vanish. It will live. Exist. Breathe. And it won’t be human in the way we understand. It will act, but not reflect. Feel, but not filter. You would be responsible for it."
Hermes nodded. "I know. I’m ready. Maybe if it has a body of its own, it can start learning to be more than what it is. Maybe I can teach it."
Hermes paused. Then asked, "What about my power? Will I lose it? Will the beast take all of it? Because I only have my power because of it."
The CEO tilted his head. "How so?"
Hermes thought about whether he should tell Dante Quasar about his Void lineage. But at the same time, it seems like he already knew.
Hermes tried to read Mr. Quasar’s mind uses Mindbloom before, but nothing comes up. Is his head really that empty? Is he so unfathomable that there was not a single thought running in that head?
Or...
Maybe there were just too many of them all at once, that Mindbloom could not manage to choose a single strain to follow.
"I... It’s just how it is." Hermes finally said.
Dante smiled. "Ah, dear boy... I respect your secrecy, but wouldn’t it be better to be open, especially when you’re asking for help?"
Hermes looked down and eventually said. "The beast... is because I’m from the Void."
"I know."
"And that’s what I’m trying to figure out." Hermes clenched his fist, unable to meet the old man’s eyes. "How.... How did you know?"
"That’s something I will answer for later, in due time." Dante replied, voice light but firm. "As for your question about losing your abilities..."
"Multitudes, when executed properly, share essence equally." He explained. "Both of you will have your abilities. Your power of absorption, your transformations... even your instincts."
Hermes looked down at the child in his arms. The little one had fallen asleep again, completely unaware of the storm he’d just lived through.
The innocence was untainted. For now.
He stood. "Then do it now. Please."
Dante reached for the infant with surprising gentleness, setting the bundle into a nest of hovering clouds conjured from his sleeve.
"You’ll want your hands free for this." He said, brushing his coat back. "And your mind quiet."
Hermes didn’t speak. He just nodded and braced himself.
Dante rolled up his sleeves. Underneath, his arms shimmered with ink-like glyphs that moved across his skin like living circuitry. He began to trace patterns in the air—slow, deliberate, and terrifying in their complexity. Every motion split the light in strange ways, painting the room in aurora fire.
Hermes felt it before he saw it.
A pull inside him.
Like something ancient and buried was being slowly teased apart.
The edges of his body blurred. Not physically, but existentially. He was being unraveled—not painfully, but completely.
He gasped as light burst from his chest. His shadow warped. His heartbeat split.
Two heartbeats.
Then—
A scream.
No, two.
The beast’s voice layered under his own, both of them echoing, reverberating, as if the entire office had become a canyon.
Then the screams stopped.
And silence crashed down.
Hermes collapsed to his knees, breathing hard.
Across from him... someone else knelt.
Identical. Same hair. Same face. But this one’s eyes—
One eye gleamed cold blue.
The other? Iridescent. Shifting in color with every blink, like it couldn’t decide what truth it saw.
The beast stood slowly, blinking as if seeing the world for the first time.
Its movements were slower, more animal than human. It didn’t speak. It just looked around, absorbing its surroundings, gaze sweeping the floating books and windows of stars.
Hermes stepped forward. "Can you understand me?"
The beast turned its head.
Then... nodded.
Not like a man.
Like a creature mimicking a man.
Dante watched with fascination, then slowly clapped once.
"Well," he said. "Now this is interesting."
Hermes turned back. "What now?"
"That’s up to you," Dante said. "You’ve got what you asked for. Two selves. Two lives. Two burdens."
Hermes stared at the beast. At himself. But not himself.
It looked back, expression unreadable.
And for the first time, Hermes saw it not just as a shadow...
But as someone waiting to become real.