Aria died again.
It was the seventh time this month. Poison, this time—slipped into wine she drink, during a celebration she never wanted to attend.
She'd played this story before. Many times. Many deaths.
A blade in the back. Pushed from a balcony. Burned alive. Frozen in a well. Smothered with a pillow. Betrayed with a kiss.
She was used to it.
Each time, the world would dissolve into pixels and ash. The screen would flicker, her body would vanish, and the system would reset—dumping her back into the cold menu of the game she could never quite beat.
But not this time.
This time, something cracked.
There was no game over. No reboot. No fading screen.
Only darkness.
And then—
[SYSTEM ERROR: Host Not Ejected]
[Soul Lock Detected. Authority Override… FAILED]
[WARNING: Internal Conflict Triggered]
[You were supposed to die.]
"What…?" Her voice didn't echo. It didn't even sound like her voice.
She wasn't in the game menu. She wasn't in her room. She wasn't anywhere.
[Attempting Manual Extraction…]
A pause.
Then a voice. Young. Startled. Male.
"Oh no," it whispered. "Oh no, oh no, oh no. I touched something. I definitely touched something."
Another line blinked across the void:
[System Operator Override: Unauthorized Access – Y.G.]
"Faith's gonna kill me when he finds out," the voice muttered. "Okay, don't panic. It's just a mortal soul. Just a glitch. Just a little stuck."
A gentle wind picked up around her, warm and gold and humming like music made of sunlight. It wrapped around her, threading through her skin. Through her bones. Through everything.
She screamed.
[Connection Error: Consciousness Anchored. Aura Manifested.]
[WARNING: Player has merged with character.]
[Location Lock Engaged.]
[You are now… Aria.]
She awoke gasping, drenched in cold sweat, her body fever-hot beneath satin sheets.
Golden light pulsed from her fingertips.
People were screaming.
Not far away, a physician dropped his tools. A maid clutched a protection charm that burst into flame. A butler stumbled backward, crossing himself in three different languages.
Aria sat up, eyes wide, heart racing.
She was… here. In Aria's bed. In Aria's world.
Only this time, she wasn't just playing the story.
She was the story.
"What in the hells is that aura?" someone whispered.
"She died! I saw it with my own eyes—she died!"
The golden light began to fade, but the silence it left behind was louder than thunder.
Footsteps echoed outside the door.
Voices. Urgent. Armed.
She didn't know who would come through that door—friend, foe, or something else entirely.
But she knew one thing:
She was still alive.
The door slammed open.
Steel clanged as guards flooded in—armour gleaming, blades drawn. Behind them, a man in velvet robes shouted orders with the breathless panic of someone who knew this incident might cost him more than his job.
Aria didn't move. She couldn't.
Her fingers still glowed faintly gold, warmth lingering under her skin like a low fire. She clenched her hands into fists, trying to hide it, but the gesture only made a few guards flinch harder.
"She's awake," someone breathed.
"No," said another, horror-stricken. "She alive."
The difference made her stomach turn.
Their eyes weren't on her like she was a victim returned to life.
They looked at her like she was a curse.
"Lower your weapons!" the robed man barked.
None of them moved. Not even him.
Aria's pulse thundered in her ears. The world didn't feel like pixels anymore. There was weight to the air. Heat in her skin. Fear crawling up her spine.
This wasn't a cutscene.
She wasn't a player.
"You—" she started to speak, but her voice cracked, raw and unused. "You were at the celebration. You're the Court Mage, right?"
He started at being addressed. "I—I am."
"What's your name?"
He blinked, clearly not expecting the question. "Eleran."
Right. She remembered him now. Eleran of the Azure Court. Minor NPC. Mostly decorative. Had a reputation for being loyal, meticulous, and easily flustered.
Which meant he had definitely not been programmed to look this terrified.
"Eleran," she said carefully. "I need you to tell me what day it is."
A flicker of confusion passed through him. "The fifteenth of Severa. Year 374 of the Sun Era."
Her breath caught. "No reset," she whispered. "The timeline didn't rewind."
Eleran tilted his head. "I—I don't understand."
No, of course he didn't. He wasn't coded to understand system mechanics. Except…
Maybe he wasn't coded at all.
Because this wasn't a game anymore.
A loud commotion echoed from the hallway beyond. Heels clacked in a fury. Silk rustled. Someone shouted, "Move, you fool, or I'll hex you all into goats!"
Aria barely had time to straighten before the next storm arrived.
The door crashed open again, this time revealing a tall woman with midnight hair braided like a crown, power radiating from her like a second spine. Her emerald robes blazed with the Sigel of House Althaea—twin phoenixes rising from flame.
Aria's memory jolted.
Selene Althaea. Duchess of the South. Mother of the original Aria.
And now—her mother?
The woman stormed forward, taking in the guards, the smoke-scarred maid, the still-glowing girl in the bed. Her eyes narrowed like knives.
"What," she said coldly, "happened to my daughter?"
Everyone froze.
Aria stared at her. For a breath, the silence in the room was unbearable.
Then a guard finally found his voice. "She—she died, Your Grace. But then…"
"She came back," Eleran whispered.
Selene's gaze snapped to him.
"She was dead," he said again, trembling. "No heartbeat. No aura. And then she… burst into light."
Selene turned back to Aria.
Their eyes locked.
And in that moment, something strange and powerful passed between them—familiarity laced with something deeper. Recognition?
No. Aria had never met her in real life.
But Aria remembered playing her. Remembered trying to earn her favour. In every route, Selene had been an unreachable presence. Cold. Untouchable. Often dead before the second arc.
But this version—this woman—was very much alive.
And staring at her like a miracle.
Aria swallowed hard. "I'm… not sure what happened."
Selene raised one brow, then stepped closer. She reached out with a hand—carefully, like touching fire.
"I felt your aura from the western wing," Selene said, her voice lower now. "I thought you are dead "
"I know."
"And yet here you are."
"I know that too."
Selene didn't ask any more questions. She simply sat on the edge of the bed and brushed a sweat-damp curl from Aria's forehead.
"You're burning."
"I feel cold," Aria whispered.
A flicker of concern crossed the Duchess's face.
"Fetch the Grand Healer," she ordered the guards. "Now. And clear the room. No one is to speak of this without my permission."
The guards hesitated—one even opened his mouth in protest—but Selene's glare silenced them.
As the room emptied, Aria exhaled shakily. Her hands still tingled with golden light.
Selene didn't seem afraid.
Instead, she looked at her daughter like she was seeing her for the first time.
"I thought I'd lost you," she murmured.
"I think you did," Aria said. "And someone brought me back."
Selene stilled. "Someone?"