The room was dim, washed in the last light of evening.

Soft shadows clung to the walls as if they didn’t want to leave.

On the bed, the boy sat quietly—pale, fragile, a soft cap resting over his head.

A fantasy novel lay in his hands, his fingers holding it with a strange kind of care… like it was something he didn’t want to let go of.

The door opened.

His parents rushed in.

No words—just arms around him, tight, desperate, breaking.

Tears fell, silent at first.

“Mom…” his voice was barely there, “let me see myself… one last time.”

Her hands trembled as she brought the mirror.

He looked into it.

Not quickly.

Not casually.

He looked… as if he was memorizing the face staring back.

She couldn’t hold herself together anymore.

“Son… may you live peacefully… in the next life…”

A faint smile touched his lips, fragile, almost invisible.

“Hmm… Mom… please read me that book… the one my friend was reading last night…”

For a second, she froze.

Then she picked it up.

“Eclipse Academy: Crown of Ash and Shadows.”

Something about the title felt unfamiliar… heavier than expected.

Her eyes lifted to her husband.

He looked at the book.

Then at their son.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

“Read it.”

Her voice shook as she began—

“…Raven Redclaw Marriott—the fallen prince of shadows—stood alone… at the end of everything…”

The words filled the room.

But he noticed something else.

Not the story.

Not the names.

The space between breaths.

At first, it was small… almost nothing.

A pause.

Then another.

His eyes shifted to his son.

Still facing his mother.

Still listening.

Still there.

Maybe I’m overthinking…

“…struck down by Laver Draper Kliers…”

His fingers curled slightly.

He watched—

Waiting for the next breath.

It didn’t come.

A soft exhale left the boy’s lips.

And then—

Nothing.

No struggle.

No sound.

Just stillness.

His chest didn’t rise again.

Time slowed.

Inside him, something broke into two—

One voice screaming: Say something. Stop her. He’s going.

The other whispering: Not yet… not like this…

“…and as Raven fell… there was no one left to hold him…”

His throat tightened.

No one?her won said in weak voice.

Her hands were shaking as she held the book…

but she kept reading, carefully, like every word mattered.

Like this moment mattered.

as if stopped now—

her son last memory wouldn’t be as wishes…

…as she continues....villain fell…blood soaked his all clothes and that the moment her the boy stopped breathing too.

but his mother didn’t know she comtinues.

“…while far from the battlefield… Laver Draper Kliers was pulled his lover peter Rander valis into an embrace…”

while his father eyes flickered once more to his son.

Still....

“…Peter Rander Valis—weak, barely standing—held tightly…his lover too as if he might disappear…again”his ...mother reads.

The irony settled in, quiet and cruel.The story gave the hero someone to hold him while the villain—nothing.

And here…

her son had never been alone, Yet he chose this story sad story before he parts his way from his mom and dad.

“…and in the end… the hero did not stand alone…”

Her voice trembled more now.

“…he chose to stay… beside the one he loved…”

A silence stretched between each word.

“…and they lived… happily ever after.”

The final line fell softly into the room.

For a moment, everything was still.

She smiled faintly through tears… as if finishing it mattered.

Then her hand reached for her son’s.

She touched him.

Paused.

Her breath broke.

“Cold…”she whispers.

The book slipped from her hands.

Her scream shattered the silence.

Her husband closed his son eyes.

Slowly, he stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder, steady, grounding… holding her together when everything else had fallen apart.

Father gaze drifted once—

to the fallen book.

I opened my eyes into a world that refused to stay still.

Everything spun—walls, ceiling, even my own breath felt unstable. For a few seconds, I just lay there, staring upward, trying to understand whether I had survived… or if this was something beyond survival.

My head throbbed.

“The journey… was too much…”

The words formed weakly in my mind, not even strong enough to leave my lips.

But something was wrong.

Not pain.

Not dizziness.

Something deeper.

Something… unfamiliar.

I pushed myself up slowly, my body resisting like it didn’t belong to me. Each movement felt slightly delayed, like I was controlling something that wasn’t fully synced with me.

That feeling followed me as I stood in front of the mirror.

And then I saw myself.

…No.

I saw a face.

A face that looked like mine.

Same eyes.

Same structure.

Same expression.

But—

“…why does it feel wrong?”

My fingers lifted unconsciously and touched my cheek. The skin was warm, alive… real.

And yet—

“This isn’t me.”

The realization didn’t come like a shock.

It settled.

Slowly.

Coldly.

“I didn’t come back…”

“I entered.”

---

( Memory flashback)

At first, nothing made sense.

Just fragments.

Broken pieces of thoughts.

But then—

Like a locked door being forced open—

Memories flooded in.

Death.

Pain.

Silence.

And then… that voice.

A voice that never needed a form.

“You are granted rebirth.”

I closed my eyes tightly.

“…Again.”

Our family.

A cursed blessing.

Because long ago, during the Patriotrica War, our bloodline earned something no one else did.

Rebirth.

Not once.

Not twice.

But endlessly.

As long as we stayed within the family.

As long as we obeyed the rule.

Never leave the cycle.

And if we did—

The punishment was simple.

Cruel.

Final.

Nine lives.

No more.

Like a cat.

I let out a slow breath.

“I chose this.”

---

His face appeared in my mind before I even called for it.

Darren.

My best friend dude, whom I respect.

he literally best dude.

Someone who understood me without asking questions.

Someone who never treated me like I was strange… even when I told him things that should have been impossible.

“I’ve been reborn hundreds of times.”

I had said that once, half-joking.

He didn’t laugh.

Instead, he asked—

“Then why do you still feel lonely?”

That question stayed.

Longer than anything else.

---

It was quiet that night.

Too quiet.

Hospital rooms always had that unnatural silence.

Darren lay beside me, his breathing uneven, his body weaker than I had ever seen.

The curse in his left eye had already taken too much.

“You’re thinking again.”

His voice was faint, but familiar.

I turned slightly toward him.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

A small smile formed on his lips.

“…Yeah.”

There was no fear in his voice.

Only acceptance.

“I found a world I want to go to.”

“A world?”

“In a book.”

I frowned slightly.

“You’re serious?”

He nodded.

“Raven.”

The name lingered.

“He’s not the hero, not the villain… just someone who does what he believes is right.”

His breathing grew heavier.

“I want to live like that.”

I stayed silent for a moment.

Then I said quietly—

“I might leave too.”

That made him look at me.

“For real this time?”

I nodded.

“I’m tired, Darren.”

“…Of living?”

“…Of repeating.”

That answer seemed enough for him.

After a pause, he asked something that caught me off guard—

“You remember everything, right?”

“…Yeah.”

“Why?”

I blinked.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re not supposed to.”

His voice was serious now.

“God said memories reset every time.”

I looked away.

“…Mine don’t.”

He stared at me for a long time.

Like he was trying to understand something deeper.

“…Then maybe,” he whispered, “you’re not meant to stay in that cycle.”

A long silence followed.

Then, softly—

“Next life…”

“…Try living for yourself.”

---

The sound came first.

A sharp, continuous beep.

Then chaos.

Voices.

Hands.

Tears.

By the time I fully understood—

Darren’s bed was empty.

“…No.”

Something inside me cracked.

Not loudly.

Not violently.

Just enough to never be the same again.

---

The next day, I didn’t hesitate.

I told them.

“I’m leaving the cycle.”

My mother cried.

My father didn’t stop me.

Maybe they understood.

Maybe they were just tired too.

I chose the book.

The same one Darren loved.

The same one he read aloud so many times that I memorized it without trying.

I didn’t choose a character.

I didn’t think I needed to.

“I just want to enter that world.”

That was enough.

Or at least—

I thought it was.

---

And now—

I was here.

In this body.

This familiar… unfamiliar body.

It looked like mine.

It felt like mine.

But something wasn’t aligning.

Something was… missing.

Or maybe—

Something hadn’t appeared yet.

I frowned slightly, staring at my reflection again.

“Why does it feel incomplete?”

That’s when it happened.

A thought.

A memory.

A single realization crossing my mind—

“I broke the rule.”

And then—

A sharp sensation.

Right above my head.

Like something tearing through space.

I froze.

“…What was that?”

Another pulse.

Stronger.

And suddenly—

Two soft, black ears popped out from my hair.

I stared.

My mind went completely blank.

“…No.”

My hands slowly moved upward.

Touched them.

Warm.

Real.

Moving.

“…No.”

My voice shook.

“I didn’t choose this—”

“I didn’t choose a character!”

Breathing got faster.

“I only chose the book—”

Understanding hit.

Hard.

Cold.

Final.

“…The cat.”

Silence.

Then—

My voice broke into a shout—

“WHAT IS GOING ON?!”

And i dramatically my tail appear out of nowhere

yes out of nowhere and

I scream Meow.....shit what happen to my voice.

meow meow!!!!!!!!