Chapter One: Reborn In A Strange World

Darkness.

It covers every inch of my surroundings, a void that stretches endlessly in every direction. My body feels weightless, almost as if I'm floating in thin air. Everything is eerily quiet, not a sound to be heard. And yet, there’s a strange sense of peace here, a stillness that surrounds me like a soft, gentle blanket. There is no fear. No joy. Just tranquillity.

Is this what it’s like to die? I close my eyes, surrendering to the serenity that fills me. The stillness envelops me completely, and for a moment, I forget who I am. I forget the world, the pain, the regrets. It feels like an eternal pause, a calm before the end.

And then, the stillness is shattered.

“You have to survive!”

The voice is soft yet urgent, trembling with emotion. The words seem to pierce through the silence, but I can’t tell where they come from. The voice is unfamiliar, but it calls out to me with such force, as if it’s desperately reaching for me, pulling me back from the precipice of oblivion.

I turn my head, trying to locate the source of the voice, but all I see is darkness. I open my mouth to respond, to ask what’s happening, but no sound escapes.

Why can’t I speak?

I try again, my lips moving, but nothing. No words. No sound. Panic grips my chest. I want to shout, to scream—to ask for help—but there is nothing. I can’t even make a whisper. My breath catches in my throat. I try to move, to will myself free from this paralyzing stillness, but it feels like something is holding me down, keeping me tethered to the void.

What’s happening to me?

The peace, the calm I had felt moments ago, vanishes. The sensation of floating shifts. I feel as if I'm sinking, pulled deeper into the endless abyss. A suffocating pressure clamps down on my chest. I can’t breathe. My heart pounds wildly as panic surges, overwhelming the numbness that had once felt so comforting.

I reach up, my hands trembling as I claw through the darkness, desperate to find something—anything—that could stop the drowning sensation. Pull me back up. 

“You have to survive.”

The voice, soft yet commanding, echoes in the emptiness, and this time, I can hear it clearly, like the words are being whispered directly into my ears. The sound is both comforting and terrifying like a lifeline being thrown to someone who’s already drowning. I open my eyes again, frantically scanning the void, my vision is hazy, but I see it.

A silhouette.

A figure floating above me bathed in an ethereal glow.

I can’t make out their features, but the presence feels familiar, as though they’ve always been there, watching over me. The figure's voice calls out once more, the words resonating deep within me.

“You must survive.”

The voice—calm, yet insistent—reaches me even though their lips do not move. They extend a hand toward me, their fingers glowing faintly in the darkness. The action is simple, but it’s the lifeline I need.

Without thinking, my arm moves, weak and uncoordinated. My hand reaches out, desperate, as if it knows that this hand—this one small gesture—could save me. I feel the warmth of their touch brush against my palm, and in that moment, everything inside me stirs. The desire to live, to escape this void, burns through me like wildfire.

I want to wake up.

A rush of life floods my senses. The suffocating grip of the darkness loosens as the figure’s hand fades from view. A blinding light erupts before me, pure and bright, pulling me toward it. I squint, instinctively closing my eyes against the intensity of the light, my body drawn toward it, unable to resist.

Is this the end of my existence?

Is this where it all stops?

No.

Please, no.

I don’t want to die. Not like this. Not when there’s still so much left to do. I can’t fade away into nothing. I can’t leave this world unfinished.

Give me a second chance.

I don’t know how or why, but in the deepest part of my being, a cry for life escapes my soul. A cry to live. And then, as if the very universe itself heard my plea, the light swallows me whole, and everything fades.

The first thing I hear is a faint murmur. Soft, like a distant whisper that seems to come from somewhere far away. I try to focus, to make sense of the sound, but it’s hard to think—my mind feels foggy as if it's surrounded by a thick mist I can’t push through.

I try to move, but my body doesn’t respond. I can feel my limbs—small, stiff, and oddly weightless—but there’s no strength in them. It’s like my muscles have forgotten how to function.

Something feels... wrong.

I feel it deep in my chest, like a heavy weight that settles there. I can’t breathe. I can’t remember. My thoughts are like fragments, broken and scattered in the haze. The last thing I remember—the last real memory—is pain. Blinding, searing pain. The sharp, burning sensation as the blade sank into my chest. Blood. Warm and sticky. I remember gasping, trying to hold onto life, but the world faded away.

That’s all I remember.

So, what is this?

Where am I?

I blink rapidly, but everything is blurry. The world around me seems distant and unfamiliar. I can feel the soft fabric beneath me, the light touch of something brushing my skin. There’s warmth. Comfort. But it doesn’t make sense. Why do I feel so… small?

I try to make a sound, but all that escapes is a soft, unintelligible noise. I try again, pushing my tiny fists into the air, but there’s nothing—no words, no command, no power to make anything happen. I feel… helpless.

Confusion floods my senses as I fight to understand what’s happening. I want to call out, to scream, but my body can’t respond. I can’t move. I can’t think.

Where am I? How did I get here?

For a moment, I feel the comforting embrace of warmth, but then the weight of panic settles over me, heavy and suffocating. I am alive... but I shouldn’t be.

No. I was dead.

The last thing I remember... the pain, the blade, and the coldness that spread through me as I died. But now, I’m… here. I’m breathing. I’m… not dead. Is this a dream? Is it some kind of cruel afterlife? No. No, this can’t be happening.

I try to lift my head, but it’s like trying to move through water—slow and sluggish. I catch glimpses of shadows, of shapes in the dim light. My vision blurs again, and I feel a strange sensation at the back of my throat—a lump that I can’t swallow away. I want to ask why, to beg for answers, but all that escapes is a tiny, helpless whimper.

I feel someone approaching, their soft footsteps growing louder, the air shifting around me as they draw closer. A gentle touch brushes my cheek, warm and tender. 

"Rubia." The voice is soft, filled with emotion. It sounds like a melody.

My heart stirs—Rubia. The name feels... right. It belongs to me. But I can’t remember where I’ve heard it before. My mind is still foggy, distant, disconnected from the past.

"Rubia, my precious child," the voice continues, and I feel something stir within me, something warm and safe, but also painfully strange. "You are safe."

Why can’t I move?

I feel something tug at me, some instinct buried deep within urging me to comply. My eyelids flutter, the weight of them heavy, but I force them open. A soft light fills my vision, and for a moment, everything is a blur of shapes and colours, a world I don’t understand.

But then... I see her.

A woman. Her face hovers over me, her long golden hair falling over me like a curtain, her blue eyes shining like the most precious sapphire. Her face is full of so much love, but the corner of her eyes shows signs of exhaustion. She looks... familiar. And yet, I don’t know who she is. Her eyes are filled with tenderness, and for some strange reason, I feel an overwhelming sense of safety when I look at her.

“My darling girl, you've finally woke up.” She speaks again, her voice like the softest melody. Her smile as warm as the sun. 

I blink, but it doesn’t make sense. Who is she?

My mind is still fragmented, but as I try to focus on her face, something stirs in the back of my memory. Rubia. I know that name, where have I heard it before?

But I don’t understand. The last thing I remember was the cold, the pain... death. Why am I here?

But there is no time for answers, no time to process the reality of this moment. There’s only the undeniable fact that I am alive. And as I lay there, helpless and confused, I feel an unsettling tug—an ache in my chest. Something is wrong, but I can’t place it. I feel like something important has been lost, something that shouldn’t have been taken.

What is this place? 

Why am I here? 

And who am I?