I Am The Game's Villain Chapter 815: When It Started: Nihil’s Final Gamble and Harivel’s Decision

"Everything is ready," Nihil said.

He stood alone in a place swallowed by darkness, facing a void that served as one of the deepest prisons imaginable, a place meant to contain only the most dangerous entities. It resembled the prison where Nevia would be held, but only at a glance. This one was different. Older, darker, and woven with far stronger restraints.

"Is that so?"

The voice that answered him was feminine but with darker tone.

Nihil kept his gaze fixed ahead until, little by little, a shape began to emerge from the blackness. It did not step into the light, because there was no light there to step into. It merely became visible, separating itself from the surrounding dark by the slightest degree.

"Yes," he said. "I will soon trigger the Artificial Brain I placed within Amael."

There was the sound of a swift step, or perhaps merely the suggestion of one, and then the figure was suddenly there, close against the dark film-like barrier that divided them.

Nihil looked up and found himself staring into a pair of pale green eyes.

Or rather, pale green irises adrift in something dark.

The whites of her eyes were completely black, as if darkness itself had flooded them and refused to leave. Even Nihil, who had long ceased to startle easily, felt the faintest flinch pass through him beneath that gaze.

"As planned, you will remain only as a Legacy and watch over Amael, Harivel," he said.

Harivel’s lips curved into a small smile.

"As promised."

***

Far away, in a crumbling temple hidden within the Kingdom of Celesta, Nihil stood once more in silence.

He was inside the main hall, surrounded by broken stone and the faded grandeur of a place long abandoned by worshippers. Time had gnawed at every corner of it. Cracks ran through the pillars, old carvings had weathered into near-obscurity, and the floor bore the faint traces of ritual circles and forgotten prayers.

Nihil’s eyes moved briefly across the hall.

He had already prepared the linking spell Edward would eventually need when he came here, just as planned, in search of a Legacy. It had been one of the central pieces mentioned within the Game Nihil had crafted, and he had taken care to ensure Edward would remember it clearly enough to follow the trail.

When Edward arrived, he would believe himself doing the spell on his own. He would trace the runes he remembered, convinced he was unlocking an old path through knowledge and instinct. But that would only be the decoy. The true spell had already been laid down by Nihil and Edward tracing the runes would just trigger them.

Edward would likely just perceive it as a Death Pact.

In truth, it was not so simple.

It was far more elaborate than that, far more carefully structured, but Nihil had no intention of revealing such details to him. That would defeat the entire purpose. Edward needed to believe he was earning these Legacies through his own will, his own actions, his own discoveries. He must never feel the shape of the hand guiding events behind him.

"Still planning in shadows, Nihil."

The instant he heard it, Nihil vanished from the ruined temple and stepped through the veil dimension directly tied to the spell, entering the place where the three Goddesses resided.

The transition was quick.

One moment there had been stone and dust and silence; the next, he stood in a bright and tranquil expanse of green. Endless prairie stretched before him beneath a gentle sky, sunlight washing the tall grasses in gold. Everything there felt peaceful, almost too peaceful to match the woman whose voice just had rang out.

Then he heard the soft chiming of ornaments and jewels.

Nihil turned.

He couldn’t hide his surprise upon seeing her.

It was Harivel.

But she looked really different.

Her pale green hair, once cold and ghostly in shade, now shone with a rich, glossy green that caught the light beautifully. The darkness that usually haunted her eyes had been replaced by a brighter, warmer hue, vivid and almost welcoming. Jewels adorned her as well, delicate and elegant, entirely unlike the Harivel he knew.

Or perhaps not entirely unlike her.

The resemblance struck him almost at once.

"Is this a tribute to Cliodhna?" He asked.

For many centuries now, Harivel had been trapped in a veiled dimension connected to this temple, suspended in a perfect state of symbiosis between the mortal and divine realm. Leaving her with the smallest of freedom was a fittingly cruel punishment; it allowed her to glimpse Eden’s world through the temple within the Kingdom Michael had built. Not that she cared about Michael’s Kingdom. Harivel seemed far more fascinated by other worlds—Earth, in particular. Still, Nihil could see a change in her. Compared to her chaotic umpteenth imprisonment following Cliodhna’s death, she was remarkably calm now, as if watching humanity had opened a new door in her mind

Regardless his surprised steemed from the fact that her ’place’ clearly didn’t look like this the last time he came. She had made quite a change in the landscape and on herself certainly.

The likeness was difficult to ignore. In more ways than one, she had borrowed something of Cliodhna’s appearance.

"Perhaps," Harivel replied. "I thought this form might be best if I am to face him and earn his trust."

"A wise choice," Nihil said.

He stared at her for another moment before adding, "I hope, then, that I can trust you as well. You have gone against us many times before. But now... this time, you seem sincere."

Harivel smiled, though there was no softness in it.

"I could not care less whether you trust me, Nihil. I only need him. That is all."

"Is that your revenge against Lucifer?" Nihil asked.

Harivel’s expression did not change.

"I wonder," she said ambiguously.

Nihil narrowed his eyes.

At this point, he could no longer clearly tell what motivated her. Whatever her true aim was, she was keeping parts of it hidden from him. That much was obvious. Harivel had always been difficult to read, but now she seemed to be moving behind several veils at once.

"Regardless," he said, "I should at least be relieved if you truly intend to watch over your sister. She claims she will restrain herself, that she will not touch him, but I do not trust her."

Harivel’s gaze sharpened slightly.

"Giving Nemesis influence over Amael," she said, "was a bold choice."

"Perhaps. But it was necessary," Nihil replied. "As long as she remains there, Amael will be protected."

At the very least, Ante-Eden shouldn’t be much of threat against his life and even the Iris project would be very careful.

Harivel let the silence stretch for a moment before speaking again.

"That Artificial Brain of yours," she said, "you constructed it carefully. You selected only the least dangerous, least disruptive memories of Nyrel Loyster, enough that he would not hold too much influence over Amael, but still enough to let the boy grow through them. Amael does not even remember his own past. His childhood memories remain sealed away. Then there is the trauma of his mother’s death, hollowing him out from the inside. What remains is a broken boy, one you can shape into whatever you wish."

"That is not my intention," Nihil said.

Harivel gave a humorless laugh.

"Do not insult me," she replied. "That sentient program you embedded in him is also a means of control. You went so far as to place a portion of your own consciousness inside him. You have taken far too many precautions for a man who claims he has no intention of molding him."

Her voice turned colder.

"A great many precautions, Nihil."

"You could not truly have believed I would leave Amael alone with three of the most dangerous women ever to exist," Nihil said.

Harivel’s lips curved faintly.

"You include your own daughter in that? How cold."

Nihil’s expression did not change.

"I love my daughter," he replied. "But she loved Samael. And I do not believe that her final wish before her end, to remain within Samael’s vessel, is the only reason she asked this of me."

Harivel watched him for a moment, something unreadable flickering in her bright green eyes.

"Perhaps she simply believes in your twisted ambition," she said at last. "Your plan to resurrect Samael... only in a form you would find more acceptable. A better version, perhaps."

Nihil’s gaze hardened.

"That is what everyone should desire," he said. "Including you, Harivel."

A soft mocking smile curling her lips.

"A Samael shaped by your cowardly hands would not be Samael at all, Nihil. He would only be your pawn." Her voice sharpened as she continued. "And right now, that broken boy is perfect for you, is he not? Lost in his emotions, childish, angry, starved for love more than anything else... pliable. Easy to shape. You have done something cruel to him."

For the first time, a shadow crossed Nihil’s face.

"I made a mistake five hundred years ago," he said. Then, after a pause, more quietly, he continued. "Twice. And twice I lost my sons. I will not repeat that failure again. This time, it must be done correctly."

Harivel tilted her head slightly.

"Nevia told you that?" She asked, smiling.

Nihil looked at her without answering.

Harivel gave a small chuckle.

"After that failure in the previous timeline, you had her create a new one," she said. "A task like that must have wounded her deeply. It is almost astonishing that she still stands after doing something so monstrous as reshaping reality itself."

"It was necessary," Nihil said. "That world was doomed."

"And yet you brought Leon into it. You believed in him," Harivel replied.

At that, Nihil’s hands tightened into fists.

"Lucifer had already begun influencing him," he said.

"He was broken long before that," Harivel said coldly. "And your mistake was believing he could be redeemed. You are a foolish man, Nihil. You always have been. Even before, you never understood how emotions truly worked. If you had, perhaps you would have noticed what Samael felt."

That struck more deeply than Nihil let show.

He did not answer.

Harivel went on.

"And now, having learned from your past failures, you turn to memories instead. You erase them, reshape them, arrange them to suit your design. You manipulate what should never be touched so lightly, all while pretending necessity absolves you of cruelty."

"It is necessary," Nihil repeated, this time with a colder edge, his eyes fixed on her. "In the previous timeline, Lucifer had nearly taken over Leon entirely. Even you died. My daughter died as well, and even this new timeline still carries the scars of that outcome."

Harivel fell silent.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Because there was truth in what he said.

That timeline had been irredeemable.

Had Nevia not intervened, had things been left as they were, the greatest fear would have come to pass: Lucifer would have fully recovered his power within a younger, stronger vessel.

Lucifer, inhabiting the Vessel of Samael, empowered further by the Sins themselves...

It was terrifying to even think about it.

Even Harivel could not deny what kind of catastrophe that would have become if left alone.

Whatever else Nihil had done, he had acted before that nightmare could fully unfold. Perhaps they might have stopped Lucifer in the end. Perhaps they might not have. But the world itself, Eden’s world, the fragile realm they had watched over for so long, had never been ready for such a thing.

The Apostles had fallen.

The Saintess had died.

The Prophetess had died.

Even the Priestess had died.

It had been a ruined world, one already collapsing under the weight of inevitable disaster, and Nihil had refused to let it continue toward that end.

So that world had been erased and begun anew.

And from that choice, Nihil had shifted both his attention and his hope toward Nyrel Loyster, the boy who, by bitter coincidence, had been one of Leon’s victims on Earth.

But this time, Nihil had not allowed Nyrel to remain untouched.

This time, he had prepared.

He had taken precautions upon precautions, woven safeguards upon safeguards, no matter how questionable, no matter how cruel, no matter how deeply they trespassed upon morality, memory, or the very idea of humanity itself.

He would not fail again.

"You are responsible for what happened in the previous timeline, Nihil," Harivel said.

He was the guardian. The overseer of Eden’s world. That responsibility had been given and entrusted to him by Ymir herself, and with it came the authority to decide, to intervene, and to bear the consequences of those choices. It was a burden important enough to overwhelm most beings, but it had been his nonetheless.

And Nihil had failed.

This new timeline could very well be called his final chance before another took his place. Even among higher beings, there were limits to how often failure could be endured when entire worlds were at stake.

The Gods above lived in a dimension far removed from the mortal realm, so it could not quite be said that they did not care about what became of it. But neither could it be said that they cared in the way mortals would have hoped. Their distance had always made their concern feel abstract, cold, and selective.

Nihil looked at her without flinching.

"You hold a share of that responsibility as well, Harivel," he replied. "If we wish, we can trace this all the way back, to the moment you chose to stand with Samael."

Harivel’s expression darkened at once.

"I would have died a thousand times before standing beside the man who killed my sister," she spat.

For a brief instant, her eyes returned to their rightful form, the green swallowed by that darker, chilling hue that belonged more truly to her. A terrible coldness flickered through them, cold enough to make the air itself seem to froze.

"You know what happened," Nihil said quietly.

"I know," Harivel answered.

Her mood had already soured beyond repair. There was nothing more in the conversation worth taking from him. Amael would come in time to that temple and until then, patience would serve her better than anger.

Nihil lingered only a moment longer before departing.

Harivel remained still, then turned and made her way toward Nevia’s domain.

Nevia sat upon her throne in the midst of a white expanse, motionless and silent as a statue carved from winter itself. Everything around her was empty, clean, and bright to the point of feeling unnatural, as though the world there had been stripped of all excess until only stillness remained. Like Harivel, this was only a fleeting manifestation, not her true body. Their real forms existed elsewhere. Yet their souls were present here in full, and that was what mattered. If they died now, they would die entirely, especially after binding their life with Amael.

Harivel stared Nevia for a moment.

"Is it soon?" Nevia asked coldly if not unconcerned.

"Are you curious?" Harivel replied with a faint smile.

Nevia’s gaze remained unreadable.

"I wonder," she said. "I only hope he is worthy of my attention. Worthy to become Samael’s vessel."

Harivel looked at her in silence.

This Nevia wished for ruin, for Eden’s ruin, for Zeus’s ruin, for Michael’s ruin. But this was not the Nevia Harivel had once known. Not truly. Not in full.

"Goodness," Harivel said with a small smile, though no warmth lay behind it.

She left without saying more.

She admired Nevia truthfully. Few would go so far, sacrifice so much, or endure so much merely to grasp at the shape of their own happiness. Nevia would. That alone made her frightening.

Harivel didn’t know actually how far Nevia had seen but the fact that she shared so many secrets and details with her and trusted upon her, meant at the very least she would play a role as well for Nevia’s wished future.

And so, at the very least, Harivel intended to help Nevia and in exchange Nevia promised her what she wished. A last freedom and perhaps even a possibility to face Lucifer again.

That was their promise.

Harivel would remain by Amael’s side. She would watch over him. She would protect him.

Because the current Nevia, with parts of her memory purposefully erased, would be of no use to him for now, at least not until she herself decided he was worthy of more.

From there, Harivel moved toward her sister’s domain.

The moment she entered, she sighed.

"What a dreadful place, Ephera," she said, glancing around at the grotesque landscape her sister had chosen as a resting place.

Darkness spread in every direction, thick and oppressive. The ground seemed almost wet with blood. There was an eerie pulse to the place, as though the whole domain breathed through wounds that never closed.

For a few moments, only silence remained.

Then a voice rang out.

"Ryliith nolthira♩"

Harivel turned at once, but saw nothing.

Only the voice remained, drifting through the darkness, followed by a light, haunting hum.

"Shirik♪ pethys... hmm♪"

At the sound of it, Harivel smiled despite herself.

"You still remember it," she said.

"♩Rylithys, rylithys♪"

"Nemesis."

The humming stopped at once.

Then a whisper brushed the back of Harivel’s neck.

"Sister."

Harivel did not turn.

"The time has come," she said. "Do I still have your word?"

She could feel the presence behind her, close enough to chill the air against her skin. Then came the faint curl of pale lips into a smile she could not see, followed by a low whisper.

"I will lay no hand on him. Not yet."

Harivel was silent for a moment.

"Do you truly believe he will become the Samael you want?" She asked.

Even Nemesis could not know for certain. Not fully. Not after all that had come before. This vessel, this boy, might still fail to become what she longed for.

And yet Harivel knew her sister too well.

Beneath that restraint, beneath that promise, Nemesis was impatient, curious and hungry even to see him with her own eyes. Hungry to know whether this would finally be the one, whether Amael would become her Samael, and whether through him she might at last reclaim what had been denied to her and take the vengeance she had waited so long to taste.

Nemesis gave no answer.

Harivel did not press her further.

She left as well, returning at last to her own domain, the only place among them that still resembled peace.

Green prairie stretched beneath a quiet sky, washed in soft light. Grass bent in the wind in long, whispering waves. After the darkness of Nemesis’s realm and the sterile stillness of Nevia’s, this place felt bright.

Harivel looked across it, and for a brief moment a deep, quiet nostalgia passed through her.

It had been in a place like this that Cliodh