The system is starting…
The system has started.
Looking for the soul pieces…
Soul pieces (1/4) have been found…
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At an abandoned construction site, a man lay motionless on the cold, dusty floor of a crumbling building.
Blood pooled beneath him, dark and sluggish, spreading like a foreboding stain against the cracked concrete.
His raven-black hair, disheveled and tangled, clung to his forehead. His eyes—dark as the void—stared ahead, distant, as though they could no longer see.
With a faint groan, he pushed himself up, every movement sluggish, as if the weight of the world hung from his limbs. His face, cold and expressionless, was a mask of resigned acceptance.
His gaze fixed on the woman standing before him.
She, too, had raven-black hair, cascading down her back in loose waves, but where his eyes were empty, hers gleamed—a crimson burn that spoke of something far deeper. Her face, pale and ethereal, lacked any trace of warmth, her expression a mirror to his own detachment.
She raised her trembling hand, a gun aimed steadily at his chest.
The man's lips parted, his voice barely a whisper, thick with exhaustion and betrayal. "So… in the end… even you betrayed me?"
His words hung in the air, heavy, burdened by the weight of finality. He could feel his strength draining, his body struggling to remain upright.
The woman tightened her grip on the gun. She closed her eyes, breathing in a steadying breath before slowly opening them again. Her voice cracked, soft but unmistakable.
"I'm sorry… my love."
The sound of the gunshot split the silence, sharp and final.
The world held its breath.
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Soul pieces (1/4) have been captured.
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Soul pieces (2/4) have been found.
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In a place where water cascaded endlessly, the roar of the falls echoed through the lush greenery. The air was alive with the scent of damp earth and the sound of rushing water, a stark contrast to the tragedy unfolding at the cliff's edge.
A man stood there, his scarred face etched with stories of survival and regret. His fiery red eyes, burning with intensity, seemed to challenge the unyielding falls. Platinum-white hair clung to his face, damp from the mist swirling around him.
"I… am sorry," the woman before him whispered, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her hands trembled, the dagger in her grip quivering as though it, too, resisted the act.
He looked at her—no anger, no hatred, only a quiet understanding. His gaze softened as though he'd already forgiven her, even before the blade pierced his chest.
The dagger plunged in with a sickening sound, and he gasped, his body jolting with the impact. His knees buckled slightly, but he stayed upright, holding her gaze. Blood seeped through his clothes, staining her shaking hands.
The roar of the waterfall seemed to grow louder, drowning out her muffled sobs.
Her dark blue hair, glistening like ocean waves, clung to her tear-streaked face. She leaned closer, trembling, her face mere inches from his. Her watery blue eyes pleaded for something—absolution, understanding, or perhaps one last moment of connection.
But as her lips moved toward his, his bloodied hand rose between them, stopping her.
His palm met her lips, a fragile barrier, smeared with the metallic tang of blood. She froze, her breath hitching as she tasted it, her wide eyes filled with shock and despair.
"Xi… Xian!" she screamed, his name tearing from her throat like a raw wound. Her voice shattered the tranquil beauty around them, echoing off the cliffs.
He stumbled backward, his strength fading with every heartbeat. For a moment, he met her gaze, a sorrowful smile flickering on his face.
And then, he fell.
His body plunged into the abyss, swallowed by the endless cascade of water and the shadowy depths below.
The roar of the falls consumed everything, leaving her alone at the edge, her cries lost in the unrelenting torrent.
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Soul pieces (2/4) have been captured.
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Soul pieces (3/4) have been found…
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The system has been successfully edited…
The final soul piece (3/3) has been found.
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In the distance, deep within the forest, stood a penthouse—a grand structure now reduced to ruins by a fearsome battle.
Scattered debris littered the ground, remnants of what once was.
Among the wreckage, a man rested his back against a jagged piece of rubble. His snow-white hair, streaked with dirt and blood, framed a face marked by exhaustion. His hollow black eyes stared ahead, void of light or emotion. Even broken, his ethereal beauty remained haunting.
A wet cough escaped him, crimson blood spilling from his lips.
"So, in the end, I die by your hands," he rasped, his voice filled with resignation.
His gaze briefly flicked to the group gathered around him—those he had once called friends. But it returned to the woman standing before him.
The woman who had betrayed him countless times.
The woman who had toyed with the love he gave so freely.
The woman who now held his life in her hands.
A bitter smile played on his lips.
"Well… I always knew this day might come," he murmured, his voice fading as his vision blurred.
As the darkness crept closer, the last thing he saw was her face—a warm smile, soft and unfeeling, bidding him farewell.
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All soul pieces have been captured…
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The merging process shall begin…
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ERROR!!!
The merging process has failed…
Retrying…
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ERROR!!!
The merging process has failed again…
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The souls are fading away…
Searching for an alternative… Quickly…
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Attempting alternative method…
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Success!
The system is ready to regress…
Preparing regression process…
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Regressing in time…
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As I slowly open my eyes, darkness greets me. It's thick and suffocating, pressing down like a heavy blanket. The air feels cold and lifeless, carrying the faint, metallic scent of something I can't place.
"Is this… the afterlife?" I whisper, my voice a fragile echo in the void.
"No," a voice replies, clear and unfamiliar, cutting through the silence like a blade. "I don't think this is the afterlife."
I jolt upright, my body sluggish and heavy, as if I've been asleep for centuries. Two figures stand before me, their presence undeniable even in the gloom.
But then I realize—I know these people.
The realization slams into me like a tidal wave. Images flash through my mind, fractured and impossible. Right after I died, I somehow knew how they died too.
My eyes focus on the first man, his jet-black hair tousled, his features painfully familiar. He looks younger than he should, untouched by the years I remember carving into his face.
The second man has platinum-white hair that glints faintly, even in this oppressive darkness. His once-scarred visage is smooth, pristine—a stark contrast to the man I knew.
What the hell is happening?
I clutch my head, the pounding in my skull intensifying as my mind struggles to make sense of this impossible moment.
"You. What's your name?" the black-haired man asks, his voice calm but sharp, cutting through my spiraling thoughts.
"Huh?" The question jars me from my haze, his piercing gaze demanding an answer.
"Your name," he repeats, the faintest edge of irritation creeping into his tone.
"I… It's Alaric," I manage, my voice weak and uncertain. "My name is Alaric."
The platinum-haired man—his presence less intimidating but no less compelling—chimes in. "And I'm Xian," he says, his gaze flicking to the black-haired man, as if waiting for him to speak next.
The dark-haired man takes a moment, his eyes unreadable, his expression carved from stone. Finally, he speaks, his voice low and measured.
"Umbrion. It's Umbrion."
The name hangs in the air, heavy with significance I can't yet grasp.
Silence lingered between us after the introductions, the weight of our strange situation pressing down like a heavy fog.
We had all died. I knew it. And now, somehow, we were here in this strange place—alive, younger, and surrounded by mysteries I couldn't begin to untangle.
I couldn't stop the images flashing in my mind: the moments of their deaths, seared into my memory as vividly as my own.
And then, I noticed Xian staring at me. His gaze wasn't subtle—it was pointed, almost searching.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, my voice breaking the uneasy quiet.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his head, as if confirming something. Finally, he spoke, his tone flat but curious.
"Wasn't your hair white before? It's black now."
The words hit me like a bucket of ice water.
My hand instinctively shot to my head, running through the strands. Black. Not white.
Wait. How does he know?
No—WAIT!
The realization crashed over me: if I could see how they died, then… they must have seen how I died too.
And just like them, I wasn't the same.
I froze, the pieces snapping together in my mind like a cruel puzzle.
"Alaric?" Xian's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, sharper now, tinged with concern.
Umbrion, ever silent and watchful, was staring at me too. His dark eyes bore into me, unreadable but far from indifferent.
I opened my mouth to answer, to say something, but my vision blurred. The world tilted.
"Alaric!" Xian called out again, louder this time.
Umbrion's expression darkened. He stepped closer, but it was too late.
Everything went black.
When I opened my eyes, the oppressive darkness was gone, replaced by something I never thought I'd see again.
No.
No, this can't be.
I bolted upright, my heart pounding like a war drum. The room around me was unmistakable—the worn wooden furniture, the faint smell of ink and old books.
My old room.
My legs moved before I could think, carrying me to the bathroom. My fingers fumbled for the light switch, and a dim, flickering glow illuminated the small space.
The thought alone was suffocating. My chest heaved as a wave of nausea washed over me, my body trembling from the weight of it all.
I forced myself to look up.
The mirror reflected a nightmare I couldn't escape.
There he was—me. But not the me I remembered.
Dark, unkempt hair framed a younger face, devoid of the battle-hardened lines and scars I had grown to accept. My eyes, once burdened with experience, stared back at me with a youthful, unfamiliar emptiness.
Skinny. Weak. Pathetic.
"This can't be…" I choked out, my voice cracking under the weight of disbelief.
I stumbled backward, pressing myself against the wall as if the distance could change the reflection. But the truth was undeniable.
I was back.
Back in my younger self's body. Back where it all began.
"Status…" I muttered, my voice barely more than a broken whisper.
I waited, expecting the usual display of stats, the familiar grid that had guided me before. Instead, something else appeared, its cold, sterile text mocking me.
__________________________________________________________
Welcome back, user!
Your regression has been successful!
__________________________________________________________
My heart plummeted.
No.
No, no, no.
Please, no.
My legs buckled beneath me, and I collapsed onto the cold tiles, gripping the edge of the sink as if it were the only thing tethering me to this reality. My breaths came fast and shallow, the air burning my lungs.
"I don't want to go through this again…" I whispered, the words spilling from my lips as tears blurred my vision.
I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, the pain grounding me, but only slightly. Memories, sharp and vivid, surged like a flood.
I don't want to face them again.
I don't want to see her again.