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  Donald entered his home, his e cttering softly against the wall as he let it go. He stumbled towards the couch, dropping onto it with a heavy sigh. The weight of the day pressed down on him, as he absently turhe ring on his finger. It was a subtle, almost unscious gesture, but the ri heavier tonight.

  "Not that it's doing much good," he muttered to himself, a wry smile tugging at his lips. The ring, a gift from Nero, was supposed to amplify his resiliend grant him a fra of Nero's power. Yet, on days like today, it felt more like a token of sympathy.

  "Wouldn't hurt to get some sympathy from a pretty hough," he joked, imagining Sofia's rea to his self-deprecation. She'd probably lecture him on the importance of self-care and offer to upgrade his e with some fancy tech.

  "Yeah, because what I really need is a e that doubles as a Wi-Fi hotspot," he snickered.

  He leaned back, closing his eyes aing the silence of his apartment envelop him. His mind drifted to Nero and the others, w what they were up to. Likely some grand scheme or another, orchestrated with the precision only Nero could muster.

  "Maybe ime, I'll vihem to take a break and watch a movie," he mused. "A nice, quiet night in. God knows we all ."

  The ri a bit lighter then, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily lifted by the thought of his friends and their unwavering support.

  He got up and dragged his feet towards the bathroom. He felt sweaty after a long day. Onder the cold water, he remembered what old him after expining the System, Powers, and Memories of the other Nero.

  "Donald, your identity is not as simple as it seems." Nero said.

  Donald was taken aback, curious, but when Nero added, "I would like to tell you directly, but if I utter another word, it won't do you or me any good. But I don't want to hide anything from my closest friends, and if you want to hear it, anytime, you e to me, but as your friend, I believe, it will be better if you don't learn it."

  Donald's curiosity bur the memory. He hadn't pressed Nero further at the time, sensing the weight behind his words. The cold water cascaded over his body, washing away the grime but not the thoughts swirling in his mind.

  As he stepped out of the shower, he g his refle in the mirror. "What aren't you telling me, Nero?" he muttered, his hand absently turning the ring on his finger.

  He dried off and dressed in fortable clothes, making his way back to the living room. He sank into the couch. The mysteries surrounding Nero, the System, and his owhin this intricate web weighed heavily on him.

  Despite the uainty, ohing was clear: rusted him. And in this world of shifting alliances and hidden agendas, trust was more valuable than gold.

  He found himself remembering the days before he met Nero. In school, or oreets, he was mocked and shunned. He remembered how lonely it felt. The isotion weighed on him, a stant reminder of his physical limitations. He turhe ring on his finger again, a nervous habit that had formed over the months.

  Donald owed Nero his life. When he was at his lowest, Nero had appeared like a bea of hope. The memory of their first meeting was vivid. He had been ready to give up, to let the world swallow him whole. But Nero had seen something in him, something worth saving.

  "Hey, you look like you could use a friend," Nero had said, his voice calm and fident. It was the first time in a long time someone had spoken to him without pity or pt.

  Donald chuckled to himself. Trust o cut through the bullshit. He had been so desperate for a kind word, and Nero had offered that and so much more. Friendship, purpose, and a p his Familia. It was a debt he could never repay, but he tried every day to live up to the trust Nero had pced in him.

  Donald's mind wandered back to the present. He khere were secrets Nero kept, not out of malice, but perhaps to protect him. If hought it was better for him to stay oblivious, he would respect that. Trust was a rare odity, arusted Nero implicitly.

  As sleep took him, Donald found himself in an old dream. Although he knew he was dreaming, he wasn't in trol, more like a spectator. These dreams weren't o him, but they had beore frequent after he received the Lightning Ring from Nero. He saw himself sitting in a vast hall, surrounded by people. The setting was grand and a, with high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings and deliers casting a golden glow.

  Donald, noearing as a muscur figure with long, flowing blonde hair and a beard, raised a massive tankard of ale. The hall echoed with ughter and the king of mugs as his panions, warriors armor, roared in approval.

  "Sk?l!" he bellowed, his voice deep and booming.

  "Sk?l!" the hall responded in unison, the sound reverberating off the stone walls.

  To his left sat a broad-shouldered man, his face etched with the lines of many battles. "... , you old goat, you drink like a fish but fight like a lion," he teased, his eyes twinkling with camaraderie.

  Donald chuckled, g the man on the back. "And you, you big oaf, you couldn't hit the broad side of a barn without me," he retorted, his grin widening.

  On his right, a striking woman with braided hair and a fierce gaze leaned in. "..., are y to drink the hall dry again?" she asked, her tone mog yet affeate.

  He raised his mug high. "Someone has to, .... Besides, it's not ofte to celebrate like this."

  The woman ughed, a melodic sound that added warmth to the hall. "Just don't pass out before the games start, ...," she teased.

  Donald smirked. "Worry not, ... I'll be the st oanding, as always."

  As the night wore on, the revelry tinued. Stories of past battles and heroic deeds were shared, each tale more exaggerated tha. A young warrior, barely old enough to hold a sword, approached with wide-eyed admiration.

  "... , is it true you once fought a giant with your bare hands?" the boy asked, his voice full of awe.

  Donald chuckled, taking a swig of his ale. "Aye, d, and it was no ordinary giant. It was a frost giant, big as a mountain and twice as ugly."

  The boy's eyes widened. "And did you really smash its head with a single blow?"

  Donald leaned in, l his voice spiratorially. "Not just a single blow, d. It took three. But don't go spreading that around. I have a reputation to uphold."

  The hall erupted in ughter as Donald wi the boy, who scampered off to share the story with his friends.

  As the celebration tinued, his gaze drifted to the end of the hall where a thro. On it was a figure cloaked in shadoreseh familiar and distant. He felt a pang of longing and a hint of sadness, knowing this ce out of rea his waking life.

  He raised his mug o time. "To friends and family, both near and far, in this world and the ," he decred, his voice tinged with a bittersweet note.

  "To friends and family," the hall echoed back, their voices blending into a harmonious chorus.

  The dream began to fade, the sounds and sights of the pce dimming as Donald felt himself being pulled back to sciousness. He g to the feeling of camaraderie and warmth, the sense of belonging that these dreams brought him.

  Sitting up straight, Donald tried to hold onto the dream, but as always, it slipped away like sand through his fingers. "Why do I see these visions?" he muttered, then g his leg. "Nero said my identity is not simple. How a cripple like me have ay worth hiding?" He wryly smiled and touched the ring on his finger. "Lightning. Illumination... I use my ring like Nigel and illuminate myself about my identity and dreams?"

  He focused, trating on the power within the ring. His body tingled with electricity, the air around him crag with energy. It thrummed with energy, a faint mix of green and blue glow emanating from it. Donald closed his eyes, willing the ring to show him the truth. The energy surged, spreading through his body, filling him with a sense of power and crity he had never felt before. For a moment, he thought he might actually uhe secrets that Nero hi.

  "e on, show me something," he whispered, trating harder.

  Just as the vision started to form, a shadowy figure materialized before him, cutting through the burgeoning light. Donald gasped, the energy in the ring faltering as he took in the familiar yet enigmatic presehe figure was the same one he saw in his dreams, sitting ohrone, shrouded in darkness.

  "It is not time yet," the figure intoned, its voice eg with an otherworldly resonance.

  Donald’s heart pounded. "Who are you? Why do you keep appearing in my dreams?"

  The figure remained silent for a moment, then stepped closer. "I am a part of you, and you are a part of me. Your true identity will be revealed when you are ready, but not before."

  Donald ched his fists, frustration bubbling up. "But I o know! Nero said—"

  The figure raised a hand, sileng him. "Nero knows the burden of truth. He protects you because he cares. Trust in him, and trust in yourself. The time will e when all will be clear."

  Donald felt a surge of defiance. "I'm tired of waiting. I want to uand now."

  The figure's eyes glinted with something akin to amusement. "Patience, Donald. The path to uanding is not a race. It is a journey."

  Before Donald could respond, the figure dissolved into mist, leaving him alone in his living room. The ring's glow faded, and he was left with more questions than answers.

  He slumped bato the couch, staring at the ceiling. "A journey, huh?" he muttered. "Well, it better be one hell of a journey."

  Sighing, he closed his eyes with his arm, "It at least proves that rings are really capable of great things. I at least fix my leg?" he muttered, his tone a mix of hope and skepticism.

  He closed his eyes, fog on the ring. "e on, do yic," he whispered, feeling the faint pulse of energy from the Lightning Ring. "If Nigel’s ring amplify resilience, maybe mine do something simir."

  The ring responded with a subtle warmth, spreading up his arm and into his body. Donald's heart quied, excitement bubbling within him. "Imagine walking without this damn e," he thought, g his fist as the energy intensified.

  Moments passed, and the warmth turo a mild disfort. Donald winced but held his focus. "Alright, leg, time to see what you're made of," he challenged, gritting his teeth.

  The disfreer, and Donald's breathing became bored. "e on, don't wimp out now," he urged himself, pushing through the pain. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he trated harder, willing the ring to heal his leg.

  Suddenly, the pain spiked, a out a pained gasp. "Damn it, this better work," he hissed, his body trembling. Just whehought he couldn't take it anymore, a light exploded in his mind, and he lost sciousness.

  When he woke up, his clothes were stuck to his body, his sweat dried on him, and his leg ainful as ever. "Damn it!" He cursed and punched his leg. "Is this also about my identity? How far does this curse go?" He sighed, looking at his refle in the mirror. "A cripple with a mysterious past. Sounds like a bad novel," he muttered, rubbing his temple.

  The ring on his finger felt heavier, almost mog him. He gred at it, the frustration boiling over. "You were supposed to help," he spat, his voice eg in the empty room. "Nero's power, huh? More like Nero's pity."

  He slumped bato the couch, closing his eyes. The dream, the pain, the cryptic warnings from Nero—it was all too much. His mind drifted to the early days with Nero. The man had a way of making the impossible seem pusible, of turning the most hopeless situations around. But this... this felt different.

  A kno the door broke his reverie. He sidered ign it, but the knock came again, more insistent this time. With a groan, he pushed himself up and hobbled to the door, leaning heavily on his strong leg. He ope to find Nero standing there.

  Donald didn't say anything, just limped baside, leaving the door open. Nero didn't need an invitation. He removed his shoes—Donald articur about that—and walked inside.

  Nero gnced around the room, notig the disarray. "Rough day?" he asked, his tone light, but with an underlying .

  Donald slumped onto the couch, rubbing his temples. "You could say that. Tried something new with the ring, but all I got was a migraine and a sore leg."

  Nero nodded, settling into a chair across from him. "Pushing boundaries, as usual. What were you aiming for this time?"

  "Trying to see if I could heal this damn leg," Donald muttered, frustration evident in his voice. "Guess I overestimated my abilities."

  "Ambitious, as always," Nero remarked, a slight smile pying on his lips. "But Rome wasn't built in a day, my friend."

  "Yeah, well, Rome probably didn't have a leg that felt like it was made of lead," Donald shot back, a wry grin tugging at his lips.

  Nero chuckled softly. "Touché. But you know, sometimes patiend persistence are the best tools. Even for someone as stubborn as you."

  Donald sighed, leaning bad closing his eyes. "I know. Just... feels like I'm not making any progress."

  Nero's gaze softened. "You're making more progress than you realize, Donald. The ring is powerful, but it takes time to master. And you've e a long way from where you started."

  Donald massaged his leg, frustratioched on his face. "I don't think it's about my mastery or the ring's power. I think it's about my identity."

  Nero's eyes widened, genuine breaking through his usual calm demeanor. "Tell me what happened."

  Donald scrutinized Nero's face, searg for any clue that might help him make sense of the situation. "I tried to use the ring to illuminate my identity and the dreams I've been having. It started off okay, but then it got... strange. I saw a figure, shrouded in shadows. He said I wasn't ready to know the truth."

  Nero leaned forward, his gaze intense. "What did the figure say exactly?"

  Donald closed his eyes, trying to recall every detail. "He said he's a part of me, and I'm a part of him. That my true identity would be revealed when I'm ready, but not before."

  Nero sighed, rubbing his temples. "This isn't the first time something like this has happened, is it?"

  Donald shook his head. "No, it feels like every time I get close to uanding, something pulls me back. It's frustrating."

  Nero's expression softened, and he pced a reassuring hand on Donald's shoulder. "I get it. It's a lot to take in, but you have to trust the process. Sometimes, the truth is revealed in pieces for a reason."

  Donald met Nero's gaze, the frustration slowly giving way to determination. "I just want to know who I really am, Nero. I feel like there's a part of me that's missing."

  Nero nodded, his voice ge firm. "We'll figure it out, Donald. Together. But you o be patient. Rushing it could do more harm than good."

  Donald sighed, leaning back against the couch. "I know you're right. It's just hard, feeling like I'm living half a life."

  Nero gave a small smile, his eyes filled with empathy. "I uand. More than you know. But you have to trust that everything will be revealed in time. Focus on what you do now, and the rest will e."

  Donald chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're always the voice of reason, aren't you?"

  Nero smirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Someone has to be. Now, get some rest. Tomorrow's another day, and who knows what it will bring."

  As Donald settled bato the couch, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. He might not have all the answers yet, but with Nero by his side, he felt a little more prepared to face whatever came .

  Nero stood up, adjusting his suit jacket. "Remember, Donald, your strength isn't just in your abilities or y. It's in your resilience, your determination. That's what makes you who you are."

  Donald nodded, a small smile f on his lips. "Thanks, Nero. For everything."

  Nero nodded, his expression softening. "Get some rest. We'll tackle this together, oep at a time."

  --

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