She was behind the healers.
Close. Too close.
Her expression—unreadable. Calm.
Her fingers rose beside the man's head, twitching, twisting—like she was conducting invisible strings.
Crimson mana threads swirled around both hands, tracing arcs in the air—
like she was knitting her way into the folds of their minds.
Then—with a flick—her fingers hovered just a breath away from his skull.
Their eyes widened—only for a second.
Then rolled back.
All at once, their bodies went limp.
Yet they stood, locked in a trance.
Mouths slightly open—mid-sentence… like they had suddenly forgotten how to speak.
"What just happened?" Grandma whispered, frozen with fear.
"Her movements… too fast. Too silent to analyze.
Who is this woman?
What the hell did she cast on them?
They're frozen… like statues!"
"Answer me—who are you?
You're not an ordinary person.
In fact… I don't think you're even completely human," she snapped, her voice trembling with fear—for her grandson.
The woman didn't answer.
The Rox family reacted instantly, stepping into a battle stance, their hands surging with elemental mana—ready to strike.
But the woman didn't flinch.
"I'm not your enemy," she said gently.
"Not today. Not ever.
I'm only here to help."
The baby—me—watched it all. Unblinking. Unmoving.
Then she turned.
And split.
Her body fractured into multiple versions. Each identical… yet subtly different.
Like shards of her essence had broken reality's mirror.
One appeared behind Grandma—glowing blue, soaked in sorrow.
One behind Father—red eyes blazing, humming with rage.
One behind Grandfather—dark, hollow, carrying a grief that clung like fog.
And one remained in the center—smiling too wide, golden light flickering with eerie calm.
All four raised a hand.
No chants. No glow. Just pure, silent motion.
And just like that—
She cast the same spell.
The elders froze. Instantly.
"What did you—" Father began.
But she stopped him with a wave—freezing him mid-breath.
Then she turned toward the cradle.
All her shards collapsed back into one.
She stepped up to the crib, smiling softly.
She muttered to herself, loud enough for me to hear:
"As expected from the Rox family.
A bloodline forged by pure elemental discipline. Limitless potential. Fierce control.
The Head Lady almost recognized me."
She leaned in closer.
"He made the right choice… placing you here."
He? Who's he?!
My thoughts spun.
"She's going to kill me! What is this?!"
But then—
A whisper.
"She's not your enemy. Not yet."
Who said that?! Where did it come from?!
She leaned in, brushing my forehead with fingers gentler than the wind.
"Shhh, don't worry," she whispered.
"I didn't come to hurt you.
I came to protect you."
"You don't know me yet.
But I remember you."
Her glowing hand pressed gently to my chest and head.
A warmth passed through me—soft, soothing. Like the sun through fog.
I could think. Move. Feel.
Everything calmed.
Everything... slowed.
What is this feeling?
Comfort. Stillness.
Peace.
But—why do I feel… sleepy?
Then her voice slipped into my thoughts.
Not spoken.
Felt.
"Don't worry, Arvik.
Or should I say… Anikar Soren."
How…? How does she know my old name?
Her hand pulsed with mana again.
The light vanished.
And suddenly—
I was back.
Back in that impossible, shadowed hall.
The Obsidian Table.
But it was empty.
All six seats were deserted.
Only one figure sat at the seventh chair.
The black corpse.
Still impaled by countless weapons.
But… it wasn't dead.
Not anymore.
It moved.
Slow. Intentional. Horrifying.
Its gaze pierced through the void—
and landed on me.
I shivered.
"H-He's alive? But I saw him… dead. I saw—"
Where were the other six?
Why was he the only one left?
Then—
It stood.
Its head tilted toward me, slow and deliberate.
And the world shattered again.
I was me.
Anikar. Seventeen. School uniform clinging to sweat.
"What the hell…
Did I return?"
I was outside the campus gate.
Same grey sky. Same chattering crowd.
My bag was slung over one shoulder. Palms damp.
Was it all… a dream?
In front of me stood a girl.
"I like you," she said suddenly. Her voice trembled.
"I always have…"
I blinked. My heart pounded.
But—
Who is she?
Why can't I remember her face?
Her name?
"Sorry," I said.
I didn't mean to say it.
But it came out anyway.
She turned.
Tears fell fast.
She ran.
Wait…
Come back…!
But she was already gone.
Her pain burned through me.
But it was… painless.
The memory melted.
I opened my eyes—
Now I was even younger.
Thirteen, maybe.
Back in my old home.
A dusty storeroom.
I remembered this day.
I was searching for an old textbook…
and found something else.
A box.
Locked. Ornate. Ancient.
I picked it up.
Dust fell like snow.
Inside… something pulsed.
A book. Bound in strange, dark threads.
I opened it.
Symbols. Glyphs. Pages rearranging themselves—like they were alive.
It spoke.
But not allowed.
A whisper in my soul:
"Choose. Bind. Rewrite."
Back then—I thought I was imagining things.
But now…
Was it real?
Watching me?
Guiding me?
But something strange lingered—like residue inside my skull. Not pain, but… a tremor. A memory itching to resurface.
I saw a place. Not the real world.
A corridor—black as ink and too narrow for comfort.
A thin passage between—lined with reflections. Mirrors. Each one showed a version of me.
Each reflection showed me.
A boy—curled in a blanket, eyes wide with fear.
A teenager—bloodied knuckles trembling, trying not to cry.
A young man—shoulders squared, clutching a cracked book, eyes glowing like the end of reason.
They stared at me.
I stared back.
Then—a crack.
One mirror shattered, webbing across its surface.
Behind it…
The corpse.
Not impaled.
Not chained to the throne.
Walking.
Dragging every blade still pierced into its body—like bones grown wrong.
It limped through the reflections, leaking blackness that hissed like dying stars.
Why do I know that thing?
Why does it know me?
Why does he always linger behind me?
Then came the voices.
All at once.
From every version of myself.
Each reflection spoke in sync—same cadence, same cursed tone:
"Your end was never yours to begin with."
I flinched.
And then—they came.
Four cloaked figures.
Emerging behind each version of me.
One behind the child. One behind the teen. One behind the young man.
And the fourth… behind me.
They raised gleaming weapons.
And stabbed.
All of them. In sync. Like ritual.
One.
Two.
Three—
As the fourth blade plunged toward my back—
"That's enough," her voice returned.
The corridor exploded into glass.
And I gasped—
Back in my body.
Back in the cradle.
Back to the warmth of magic and blankets and mortal hands.
"Etch these memories into your soul.
They matter more than you know."
"You are more than they think."
"I broke too many laws just to come here.
But you're worth it."
And then—
She kissed my forehead.
"For now… live. Grow.
When the time comes… remember who you are."
She stepped back.
Turned around—
And for a second, something hit me.
A flicker.
A strange familiarity.
Like I'd seen her before.
Not here.Not now.
That girl... who confessed to me
It wasn't her.But the feeling?
Same.
Before I could even process it—
She vanished.Like mist dissolving into morning air.
A moment passed.
The others blinked back to life.
"What were we doing?"
"Baby's healthy. We're done here."
Confused but unconcerned, the healers left the room.
Grandpa muttered, "Why does the room feel… lighter?"
"Maybe it was the chants," Grandma replied.
But I knew better.
They remembered nothing.
Not the mana surge.
Not the awakening.
Not the woman.
Only I remembered.
I lay still in the crib.
Eyes wide. Mind racing.
What were those memories?
Why did they feel like mine… and yet not mine?
Who was that black figure?
Why does he always linger behind me?
Why does his presence feel like a shadow I was born with?
I don't know what he is.
A god? A curse? A part of me?
But I know this much—
He's waiting. Watching.
For something.
For me.
And whatever this second life is,
It's not just a reset.
It's a test.
A message.
A purpose that even I haven't fully grasped yet.
If I was brought into this world…
Then I was brought here for a reason.
And I'm going to find it.
Even if I have to crawl through every lie…
Even if I have to break this world's truth apart—
I'll find it.
Why I'm here?
What I was meant to do?
And what I'm meant to become?