That evening, the academy was bathed in the golden-pink glow of sunset. The sky spilled molten colors through the tall stained-glass windows of the castle, painting the stone floors with shards of light. Arisa wandered the quiet halls, her mind racing with thoughts of The Watcher and what secrets the journal might hold.

As she turned a corner near the grand staircase, a soft voice called out her name.

“Arisa.”

She froze.

Turning slowly, she found herself face to face with Princess Selene — the younger sister of the three princes, a figure usually lost in the background of court politics.

Selene’s silver hair shimmered faintly in the twilight, and her eyes, deep and steady, held a strange intensity.

“I know what you are,” Selene said softly but with unmistakable certainty.

Arisa’s breath caught. “What do you mean?”

Selene stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “You’re not just a background character trapped in an endless loop of scenes.”

Arisa’s heart pounded in her chest. “Then what am I?”

Selene’s gaze darkened. “You’re someone who remembers beyond the script. Someone who has awakened.”

“How can you be sure?” Arisa asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“Because I am awake, too.”

Selene’s eyes flicked toward the towering windows where the last rays of light faded into night.

“But that knowledge comes with a price.”

Arisa took a cautious step forward. “What price?”

“The system,” Selene said, voice heavy with warning, “is the force that keeps this story running. It maintains balance, enforces roles, and erases anything that threatens the narrative’s flow.”

Arisa’s throat went dry. “Erases?”

“Yes,” Selene whispered. “Anomalies like you and me—those who deviate—risk being erased, forgotten, or worse.”

She looked Arisa directly in the eyes. “You must be careful whom you trust. The story is watching.”

A chill ran down Arisa’s spine. The world she thought she understood was far more dangerous than a romantic fantasy.

Selene’s hand reached out, brushing a stray lavender lock from Arisa’s face, a brief moment of warmth in the cold reality.

“Be cautious,” she said quietly. “And remember, sometimes a story needs a rewrite.”

Before Arisa could respond, Selene turned and disappeared down the corridor, vanishing like a shadow at dusk.

Left alone, Arisa felt the heavy weight of the princess’s words settle deep inside her. Her reincarnation was not a blessing—it was a challenge. And if she wanted to survive, she would have to fight not only for her place in the story but for her very existence.

LITARCHIVE