Five years had passed since her rebirth into this world, and Aria Fontaine had long since come to terms with her new reality.
Her early days had been filled with confusion, overwhelming emotions, and an obsessive need to confirm whether the world around her truly matched the one she had read about. But as she grew, memories of her past life softened, blending into the present until they became nothing more than a distant whisper in the back of her mind.
She was Aria Fontaine now, the beloved daughter of House Fontaine and the future main heroine of this world. And alongside her—
Was Avia.
Her twin sister. The wild, unpredictable force of nature that had somehow wormed her way into Aria's heart despite being the single greatest deviation from the novel's original story.
In the past five years, Aria had done her best to observe Avia, searching for any clues about her origins or why she existed in a world that shouldn't have had her. But no matter how much she watched, no matter how many conversations she tried to steer toward anything resembling reincarnation, Avia never showed any indication that she knew this world was based on a novel.
No, if anything, she was simply bizarre in an entirely different way.
Aria had first noticed it when they were three years old. At first, it had been subtle—Avia whispering strange things to herself, making odd gestures as if drawing symbols in the air, staring dramatically out the window as if she were waiting for some great event to occur.
Then, as they got older, it only became worse.
At four, Avia had declared that she was the vessel of an ancient, forgotten power.
At four and a half, she had attempted to "summon" a forbidden spell by scribbling runes onto the floor with chalk.
At five, she had claimed that an invisible force had sealed away her abilities and that one day, they would break free.
And yet, despite it all, despite her ever-growing concerns, despite the fact that Avia was a walking storm of dramatics, Aria…
Loved her.
There was something endearing about her sister's relentless enthusiasm, her absolute commitment to whatever strange fantasy played out in her mind. She was loud, frustrating, and prone to making scenes in the middle of lessons, but she was also warm, fiercely protective, and utterly unstoppable when she set her mind to something.
Aria supposed it was because of that part of Avia—the unwavering confidence, the unshakable belief in herself—that she had grown so attached to her.
They were inseparable. Even when Avia did things that exhausted Aria to her very soul, she couldn't imagine life without her twin.
And yet—
Nothing could have prepared her for what happened next.
The door to their shared bedroom slammed open, crashing against the wall with enough force to shake the nearby bookshelves. Aria barely had time to react before a blur of red and silver barreled into the room, voice rising in a frantic yell.
"ARIA, IT'S HAPPENING!"
Avia skidded to a stop in the center of the room, clutching her left eye with both hands. Her entire body was trembling, breaths coming out in frantic gasps. The sheer intensity of her entrance sent a spike of alarm through Aria's chest. She jumped to her feet, reaching for her sister.
"Avia, what's wrong?!"
Avia staggered back, holding up a shaking hand as if warning her to stay away. Her crimson eyes burned with desperation.
"The Crimson Eclipse," she whispered, voice trembling. "It's… it's awakening. I—" She gasped sharply, her knees buckling. "I can't contain it…!"
Aria stared at her sister.
Then, realization struck.
Oh. Oh.
This again.
A familiar wave of exhaustion settled over her, but she quickly suppressed the urge to sigh. She had learned long ago that reacting poorly to Avia's dramatics only encouraged her further.
So instead, she played along.
"Oh no," she said, carefully keeping her voice neutral. "That sounds dangerous. What should we do?"
Avia groaned, pressing harder against her left eye as if in great agony. "I—I need to seal it! Before it overtakes me! Before—" She gasped again, clawing at the air. "Before the darkness consumes my soul!"
"Of course," Aria murmured. "We can't have that."
She turned, scanning the room for something that might appease her twin's current crisis. Her gaze landed on the bottom drawer of her wardrobe, where an old scarf had been shoved aside weeks ago.
It was black. Close enough to an eyepatch.
Aria retrieved it and turned back to Avia, who was now dramatically slumped against the edge of her bed as if her life force were moments away from fading. "Here," she said, holding out the scarf. "This should work."
Avia snatched it from her hands like a drowning man grabbing onto a rope. Without hesitation, she wrapped it around her head, tying it tightly over her left eye.
When she straightened, there was a new aura about her.
Gone was the panicked, flailing mess from before.
Now, standing before Aria, was something else entirely.
A girl dressed in a pristine nightgown, silver hair cascading over her shoulders, one crimson eye burning with newfound power.
She raised a hand, palm open, fingers curled ever so slightly—as if she were grasping something unseen.
"The seal is in place," Avia murmured, voice low, controlled. "The Crimson Eclipse will not rise this day."
Aria stared at her.
Then, slowly, she exhaled. It was over.
Or at least, so she thought.
Dinner that evening was peaceful—until their mother's voice shattered that illusion.
"Avia, dear, take off that thing around your head."
Aria had seen it coming the moment Avia walked into the dining hall with the makeshift eyepatch still securely in place. Their parents had exchanged looks, but for the sake of peace, no one had said anything.
Until now.
Avia tensed, fork freezing halfway to her mouth. Slowly, she turned to face their mother. "I cannot."
Their father raised an eyebrow. "And why not?"
Avia took a slow breath. Then—
"If I remove the seal, my power will consume us all."
Silence.
Their parents exchanged another look.
Aria buried her face in her hands.
Their mother sighed. "Avia, sweetheart, you're being ridiculous. Take it off."
"No."
"Avia."
"No."
Their father sighed, rubbing his temples. "Young lady, you will remove that scarf or—"
But Avia was already on her feet, chair scraping against the floor as she bolted from the table.
"You'll never imprison me!" she cried, dashing toward the exit. "THE CRIMSON ECLIPSE CANNOT BE RESTRAINED!"
And with that, she was gone.
Silence fell over the dining hall.
Then, their father sighed deeply. "Aria."
She flinched. "Yes, Father?"
"Make sure she doesn't hurt herself."
"…Yes, Father."
As she stood to chase after her impossible sister, Aria couldn't help but wonder—
How had her life come to this?