Prologue: The Shattered Promise

There are moments in life that define you, moments that break you and remake you in ways you could never imagine. For me, that moment came when I was sixteen—on my birthday, no less. But if you want to understand why I ended up in this mess, why I became the man I did, you have to start earlier. You have to start with my sister.

Lyra.

She was my everything. My light in a world that had grown so dark after we lost our parents. I was twelve when they died. A car accident, they said. They tried to console me with the usual nonsense—"They're in a better place," or "At least you still have your sister." And they were right, in a way. I did have Lyra. She was four years older, just sixteen at the time, and somehow, she became both mother and father to me after that day. She never once cried in front of me. She was strong for both of us.

We had no one else. No relatives, no guardians. Just the two of us trying to survive in a world that didn't give a damn about us. But Lyra… she always found a way to make things better. She was so creative, so full of life. She was a writer—an aspiring novelist. I remember how her eyes would light up whenever she talked about the stories she was writing. Her dream was to finish a novel, to get it published. And she promised me—promised—that one day she'd make enough money so we'd never have to worry about anything again. We used to joke about it. How she'd be this famous author, and I'd just laze around all day, reading her books.

We shared everything. We even shared a birthday. April 1st—April Fool's Day. It was our little joke, born on the same day, as if life was playing a trick on us from the start. But we didn't mind. We always celebrated together. Two cakes, two sets of candles. It was perfect.

Until it wasn't.

The day I turned sixteen, everything fell apart. I still remember it so clearly. I was excited that day. More than usual. I wanted to surprise Lyra, do something special for her. She was turning twenty, after all. An adult. So, after school, I went to the city to buy her a gift. Nothing fancy—I didn't have the money for that—but something meaningful. A bracelet. Simple, but elegant. Something that said, "Thank you for everything. Thank you for being there."

I rushed home that day, eager to see the look on her face when I gave her the present. But the moment I stepped into our apartment, something felt… wrong. It was too quiet. Lyra always had music playing, or she'd be typing away on her laptop. But that day, there was nothing. Just silence.

I called her name, but there was no answer.

My heart raced as I moved through the hallway. The door to her room was slightly open, just enough for me to see the edge of her bed. I pushed it open, and that's when I saw her.

Lyra was lying there. Motionless. Her body was twisted at an odd angle, and her face… her beautiful face was pale, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Blood. There was so much blood. It soaked the sheets, pooling around her.

I dropped the gift. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. My whole world shattered in that instant. My sister—my only family—was dead.

And I wasn't there to protect her.

I fell to my knees, crawling toward her, shaking her shoulders, screaming her name, begging her to wake up. But she was gone. I don't remember how long I sat there, holding her lifeless body, numb to everything around me. The gift I'd bought her lay forgotten on the floor, a cruel reminder of how little I had understood that day.

From that moment on, I wasn't the same person. The joy, the innocence—it all died with her. And in its place, something darker took root. A burning need for answers. For revenge. I needed to know who had done this. Who had taken her from me.

So I did what I had to do. I dropped out of school, cut ties with everyone. I became a dog, doing whatever it took to get closer to the truth. I worked for people I hated, people who used me like a tool, all in the name of information. I learned how to fight, how to kill. Slowly but surely, I built a reputation. I became the Albino Crow, the White Raven—feared and respected in the criminal underworld. It took years, but eventually, I became the most feared assassin on the streets. My bounty grew to a million dollars, and people spoke my name in hushed tones.

Nine years. Nine years I spent in the shadows, living like a ghost, chasing whispers and leads. And finally, after almost a decade of searching, I found the person responsible for Lyra's death.

Aurelia.

My heart still aches when I think about it. Aurelia had been my childhood friend, my sweetheart. My first love. We grew up together, inseparable. And for a time, I thought we would be together forever. But life has a funny way of ripping things apart. After Lyra's death, I had distanced myself from everyone, including her. I never imagined… never suspected it could have been her.

But it was.

I found her address after months of searching. It was in a quiet neighborhood, a place that seemed too peaceful, too innocent for someone like me to walk into. When I finally saw her, my heart stopped. She hadn't changed much—still beautiful, still elegant. Her golden hair shimmered in the light, her soft features framed by a calm expression. But when our eyes met, I saw it. The coldness. The detachment.

She didn't even flinch when I confronted her. She admitted it—admitted she was the one who killed Lyra. And she did it without a shred of emotion.

I remember standing there, stunned, my world crumbling all over again. I asked her why. I begged her for an explanation, some reason that could make sense of this nightmare. But all she gave me was silence, her face a mask of indifference.

"It was for your own good," she said, her voice cold, distant. "I'm sorry."

That's when I realized something was wrong. My vision blurred, my body felt heavy. The glass of water I had been drinking… it was poisoned. She had poisoned me. And as the darkness crept in, I saw her pull a gun from behind her back, pointing it at me with a steady hand.

I wanted to ask her why. Why Lyra? Why now? Why poison me? But the words wouldn't come.

In my last moments, I saw her face, a strange mix of sorrow and something else I couldn't place. Regret, maybe. Or was it relief?

Everything went black before I could find the answers.

And just like that, my life ended. Not with a bang, but with a whisper of betrayal and a cold, emotionless apology. I died without knowing why the two people I loved most were taken from me. Without understanding the cruel twist of fate that had led me to that moment.

When I woke up in this new world, in this new body… I thought it was some kind of sick joke. Another April Fool's prank, but on a cosmic scale. But here I am. Alive again, in someone else's skin, living someone else's life.

And all I have left are the memories of the life I lost. The promise I made to Lyra to find her killer. The betrayal of Aurelia, who I once loved.

Now, I'm left with nothing but questions, and the cold reality that no matter where I go…

I can never escape the past.