Novel & Cerita Thou Art I Persona

Thalia POV My eyes widened and I looked at Aiden. He could tell I was shaken. He pulls me in for a hug and looks me in my eyes, “He isn’t coming anywhere near you.” He said decidedly. I nodded, but words were caught in my throat. Canary and Sin ran up to me. “Thalia, it’s time for Kabar. You got this girlie.” Canary said. Hearing my codename again made me react. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, I shifted my entire personality to the ruthless assassin I wanted to leave behind. Aiden looks at me and he feels my shift and grins menacingly.

Until heat licks through my veins. And with a sinking feeling, I realize what the problem is. What she must think of me; the shadow I cast. The newspaper headlines call me ruthless each week; my interviews are always cold and detached. I’ve cultivated the image of a villain, wrapped it around myself like a cloak—and now it’s strangling me. Costing me everything. Can’t she see that persona is not who I really am? “Tell me who you are,” I beg, one last time, and I don’t care how desperate I sound as I nip her bottom lip. She’s brought me low. “I’ll do anything. Tell me, angel.”

Just thinking about her made my heart race and my cheeks heat up. - "I completely understand how you might feel about her. This young girl, soon to be young woman is simply incredible. One could almost say she is perfect, but perfection does not exist. Thetia is a person blessed by the gods. Her intelligence rivals that of great scholars, teachers and preceptors. Since a certain conversation, she knew, I don't know how, that my personal history contained lies".

For a heartstopping moment, I wonder if he recognizes me, but then he adds, “Flora, right?” My cheeks warm, and I nod. “Yes. That’s me.” It’s nice to hide behind my persona again, I have to admit. Nice to not be noticed as Arthur’s twice-jilted mate, but instead just an artist. It’s a feeling I didn’t think I would miss so much.

"I don't know how to draw you anymore. The you that doesn't need me. The you that I don't know." "Then don't draw me." She said it gently, not cruel. "Draw something else. Yourself, maybe. The you that doesn't need me to need him. The you that might be, eventually, if you don't mess it up too badly." "Is that possible?" he asked. "The me without you? The me that's just—" He stopped, found the word. "Just Dante. Not architect. Not witness. Just person. Messed up and not finished."

Sienna's POV “The idea can be straightforward yet it requires a narrative," Emily remarked as she browsed the images. "We aim to showcase your identity as an author. Nothing. Inconsistent, with who you are.” My fingers nervously played with the corner of the paper laid out before me. Simply hearing the term "persona" made me want to cover my face. I wasn’t the self-assured type when in front of a camera. Having stayed behind my keyboard for a long time, suddenly becoming the public face of my work felt intimidating.

Leo stood in the center of a white, infinite void—the root directory of his own soul. But he wasn’t alone. Emerging from the "Unallocated Space" of his subconscious was a man who looked like an ancient, more severe version of himself. Arthur Vance-Thorne. Arthur didn't look like a ghost. He looked like the Command Line itself. His skin was etched with the original foundational scripts of the first simulation, and his eyes were two blinking cursors, waiting to input a new reality.

Animalistic. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. With every impact of his hips, our digital avatar glows brighter. We slash at the tentacles. We burn them away with white fire. "You can't have us!" I scream at the giant face of the woman who bought my father. "We are real! You are just code!" "I am the mother!" Evelyn bellows. "I am the source!" She manifests a wave of data—shame, fear, doubt. It hits us like a tsunami.

That enchanting afternoon by the sea turned toxic in an instant, swallowed by a venomous mist. When the digital genie emerging from that ancient clay lamp in Sona’s hand revealed my true identity with a hellish declaration, a freezing current ran down my spine. I—Sophia Moreno—not a human? A humanoid created by Arian? Were my twenty years of memories, my love for Lucas, my motherhood for Sona—nothing but mathematical code and data processing?