Chapter Text
The darkness dissipated as he went deeper into the Wonderworld. As he dragged his feet, he didn't realize that he was sowing a trail of transparent drops. His whole body was shaking and his jaw kept tightening, so much the man was immersed in his parasitic thoughts.
"My friend, my dearest friend. I have a question for you. Have you any memory of the real world you can recall? Three thousand years it's been, after all.”
"You know, it was my job to fulfill this fateful role that is now yours."
He shook his head violently, shaking off the deafening noise.
He had refused to believe it. But when he gave him that tortured smile...He felt as if he had been stabbed in the heart.
Everything came back to him.
He remembered him, erasing his memory, shortly after the departure of this Visitor.
He remembered his comrade, who succumbed to negativity after all that struggle, in vain. He didn't understand why he had taken away these particular memories. Was it to delay him from the terrible fate that awaited him too? To protect him?
He didn't understand, why was it so complicated?
He continued to walk in this darkness, weak but always present.
He categorically refused to believe that he too would become like him.
To become Lance.
This simple thought terrified him, paralyzed him. He who had seen Lance sink as he went along, who had seen him suffer and who, despite everything, held on. He had seen him also happy for a time. But it was very short.
When he realized how much pain he had felt when this girl had left, without keeping any memory of him, he had decided to believe that it was better to leave the memories of each Visitor in them.
A big mistake.
Balan had only been a partial spectator, but his role had taken a sudden turn when he had to deal with this Lance he no longer knew.
He didn't really understand what Lance was feeling. He wanted to help him but he knew that Lance kept pushing him away.
And this is where it had led.
He stopped and collapsed on the ground, in the middle of this nothingness. His trembling hands clutched his skull so tightly that he thought he was going to tear it off.
He was afraid, so afraid.
But of whom?
Lance?
He had taken the trouble to warn him, was he worried? Did he want to warn him and thus prepare him for this? To allow him to push back this sword of Damocles that hung over his head, ready to slash him?
That's what he wanted to believe. He definitely had a good reason to do it. Lance wasn't evil, just the victim of an evil force he never asked for.
He had fallen victim to his mad love of humans.
Balan silently began to blame the Wonderworld. Sure, he obeyed the Maestros' fingertips, but maybe that was the whole point. Perhaps he too was hiding something much more...evil.
In truth he was afraid of his own reflection. After all, it would only be his fault if he became Lance. Perhaps he should be more distant? Colder?
He remembered that Lance had simply avoided the Visitors who followed each other until one of them knocked him down.
He couldn't possibly avoid them, or even find another Maestro. He wasn't going to let this curse isolate him, no way!
He tried to smile as best he could, but it was too painful. Fortunately for him, his top hat was going to help him hide his pain.
He couldn't go on like this. Only he could decide his fate. Not the humans, not Lance, not the Wonderworld.
He and only he.
He pounded his fist on the ground and gritted his teeth, reluctantly making his decision. He paused, took a few deep breaths and finally stood up, putting his trusty hat back on.
It was up to him to take matters into his own hands.
"Face it, you don't have a chance. It's only a matter of time before you become Lance."