I opened my eyes, expecting the warmth of the beach or Karun's presence beside me. Instead, I found myself seated in the corner of a grand library. A stack of books piled high next to me, and in my hands, I held a leather-bound volume. Confusion clouded my thoughts. Wasn't I just with Karun? Didn't we make it out alive? What is this place?
The book's cover read, "The Future of Technology," authored in 1880. Wait… 1880? My heart raced. What year is this? Did I… time travel? The world spun with uncertainty. I tried to ground myself, but then I heard footsteps approaching.
I turned, and my breath caught in my throat. Kris, looking impossibly young, stepped into view. His old-fashioned clothes and ridiculous hairstyle made me want to laugh, but my shock rooted me to the spot.
"Kris! What are you doing here?" I blurted, earning a stern glare from the librarian nearby. My voice felt foreign in my throat.
Kris paused, his cheeks flushing a soft red as he sat down across from me, depositing yet another pile of books on the table. He whispered, "T-to read, of course. Y-you know my name?"
Know his name? Of course I knew it. After all the times he'd bragged about being a premium NPC in the game, how could I forget? But something was off. NPC? Game? I glanced down at my body—no injuries, no pain from the shoulder wound Karun had helped patch up. And my clothes—an outdated dress from another century, far removed from the world I knew.
This isn't a game, I realized, panic seeping in. Is this my past life?
Kris sat there, still blushing, completely unaware of the storm inside me. Before I could make sense of it, the world shifted again.
I blinked and found myself in a dormitory, the air thick and heavy. My body burned with fever, every movement painful. My muscles ached as if I hadn't moved in days, and my throat felt dry as desert sand.
Where am I now? My mind raced. Another memory?
The door creaked open, and someone entered. I squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to sleep, unsure of who might be approaching. Then, I felt a gentle hand on my forehead, followed by the cool relief of a damp cloth. Slowly, I cracked my eyes open to peek at the person tending to me—and there he was again. Kris, his face pale and worried, sat by my side, a shadow of the confident NPC I knew.
His brow furrowed in concern, and for a moment, I felt my heart ache for him. How long has he been taking care of me?
My hand twitched as I tried to reach out, to tell him I was okay, but before I could, the scene changed again.
This time, I found myself signing out of the dormitory's register. Students buzzed around me, excited for the holidays, chattering about plans to return home. But I felt a sinking emptiness. As I signed my name—Kathayayini—I realized I had no idea where to go. I didn't know where my family was. I couldn't remember anything about them.
I followed the crowd to the station, where carts were lined up, ready to carry everyone home. The streets, the people, the buildings—they all looked like something out of a history book. But I was alone. I waited, watching the others leave one by one until the station was empty.
No one came for me.
As the sun began to set, loneliness settled over me like a heavy blanket. I had hoped—prayed—that someone would find me, that my family would appear, but they never did.
And then, in the distance, I saw him again.
Kris walked toward me, tall and steady, no longer hesitant. This time, there was no blush on his cheeks, no awkward fidgeting. He was here for me.
"Kathy," he said softly as he approached, "let's go. Come to my home."
I blinked, confused. "No… my family will come soon," I stammered, though even as I said it, I knew it wasn't true.
Kris stepped closer, his hand cupping my cheek, his eyes filled with sorrow. "It's okay, Kathy. I know they're not coming. I know… you're an orphan."
His words shattered something inside me. Tears blurred my vision, and the emotions I had buried all day burst free. I had been waiting—hoping—for something that would never happen. My family, my past… they were gone. The memories flooded back—the accident that took my parents when I was just a child, the years I had spent growing up alone in an orphanage.
I fell into Kris's arms, sobbing as he held me close. He whispered, "Come with me, Kathy. Let's build a family together. Just the two of us."
I had heard those words before—twice in my life, from the same man. The man who promised to stay by my side forever, to be my home. But before I could respond, the world shifted once again.
Now I stood at the end of an aisle, walking toward Kris, who was waiting for me, a soft smile on his face. We were at our wedding, the culmination of a love that had spanned lifetimes. He looked like a prince, dressed in a pristine white suit, his handsomeness almost otherworldly.
When I reached him, I took his hand, my heart swelling with a love so deep it hurt. We said our vows, and as we whispered, "I do," I marveled at how lucky I was to have found him—not once, but twice.
"You're beautiful," I whispered to him.
Kris chuckled softly, his eyes shining. "What?"
Before I could answer, the scene shifted once again.
I was pulled into a contract. Together, Kris and I were forced to create a deadly game. The memory was brief, but it lingered, a sharp reminder of the darker side of our shared fate. I saw us enter the game together, and as my time in this life neared its end, the memories began to blur, speeding up until I was on the brink of death.
I saw Kris beside me, holding my hand, tears streaming down his face. My body was frail, weak from starvation, but all I could focus on was him. I didn't want to leave him, not like this. I wanted to stay with him forever. But my body betrayed me. My breath grew heavier with each passing moment, and unconsciousness claimed me.
The last thing I remembered was Kris's warm kiss on my forehead, his final act of love before the darkness took me.