Darkness.

Not just the absence of light, but of everything.

No sound, no breath, no pain. Just drifting. As if even time had forgotten him.

Luca floated, his final moments flickering like dying embers.

The blood.

The searing pain.

Mr. Brau’s frantic voice.

And then—silence.

Is this death?

He didn’t feel sorrow. Just a numb, frozen stillness, detached from thought.

But something stirred.

A sensation, distant, and faint.

A breath? No… a heartbeat.

Thump.

His mind clutched at it instinctively.

Thump. Thump.

It grew louder. More real.

Then—

Air.

He gasped, lungs burning, as if breaking the surface after being dragged too deep. His back arched, his body seized with a violent tremor. Light seared his eyes.

The ground beneath him was cold and uneven, gritty stone pressing into his skin. His senses returned in waves. The dry sting of dust in his nose, the faint echo of distant voices.

And—

“Hic… hic…”

A girl sobbing.

He turned his head and winced as a sharp pain lanced through his skull. His hand moved instinctively to his temple. When he pulled it back, his fingers were wet.

Blood.

But… Why his head?

He remembered being shot in the heart and lungs. Not his head.

Was it a misfire? No… that didn’t make sense.

His breath came in shallow bursts. He tried to sit up, but a sharp jolt of pain stopped him. One of his legs wouldn’t move.

He looked down. A heavy slab of concrete pinned his leg in place, pressing hard against the bone.

His thoughts twisted.

Was he tortured?

His head throbbed, vision swimming. He raised his hand into the dim light, and froze. Slender fingers trembled in front of him, dust clinging to pale skin. It’s too small and delicate.

Not his.

He stared at them.

Whose hands are these?

Water trickled beside him in a narrow stream, calm and clear. He leaned over it, then stilled. A child’s face looked back, no more than twelve. Skin pale, hair dark as ink. His own eyes stared at him, wide and adrift.

A familiar face wearing his silence.

“... Luca?”

Just then, a gentle voice called out beside him.

He turned.

She was a small girl with black hair and dark eyes, her features so eerily familiar it felt like a mirror warped by memory, as if carved from the same soul. Her clothes were torn. Her cheeks were smudged with dirt and her eyes, red and puffy, carried the weight of too much grief for someone so small.

When she saw him, her face bloomed with light, as if hope had sparked back to life.

“Luca!”

She rushed toward him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. He nearly blacked out again from the sudden impact.

“Hic... hic... I thought you were dead…”

She sobbed into him, clinging like she’d never let go.

“Please… don’t leave me alone…”

He didn’t move. Her arms clung to him, trembling. Desperate, but sincere.

Luca’s gaze drifted past her, taking in the crumbling world around them.

They were beneath the remains of a bridge. A narrow stream wound its way nearby, its quiet flow the only sound. Debris littered the ground, chunks of concrete, and jagged stones.

The bridge above them was shattered. Half of it had caved in, leaving a gaping wound overhead.

An earthquake?

Distant shouts echoed through the air, calls, cries, frantic voices searching.

This wasn’t just a personal tragedy, It was something bigger.

A disaster.

Luca blinked against the pain and waited until the girl’s sobs quieted.

“...Can you help me move the rock on my leg?” Luca whispered.

Panic flashed in her eyes. She nodded, then rushed to his side, planting her feet against the ground. Her fingers dug into the slab. Grit slipped beneath her hands.

And still, she pushed until the stone scraped against the rubble and began to shift.

Luca’s breath hitched, but he nodded.

“Thank you… Can you find sticks, cloth, and rope?”

She nodded and darted off. Minutes later, she returned arms full, breathless. Then he took a strip of cloth and gave it to her.

"Help me wash this in the stream," Luca said, his voice low.

She listened and dashed to the water, returning with a damp, clean cloth.

Luca focused on his injuries. He cleaned the blood from his leg, disinfected the area as best he could, and wrapped the wound tight with cloth. He reinforced it with sticks, positioning and tying them with the precision of habit. Then, without pause, he turned to the gash on his head and repeated the process.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it would help him heal.

She watched, wide-eyed.

“Lu… are you some kind of Saint?” she whispered.

“What…?” He blinked at her.

“I mean a healer… like the Saints of Solaris. They help people when they’re hurt,” she said earnestly.

He stared at her.

“… I suppose.” Luca said quietly.

“Really? That’s amazing.” she said with a smile.

“Thank you?”

A look of confusion crossed Luca's face. He wasn’t sure what had just happened. And he finally asked what had been gnawing at him.

“Who… are you?” Luca asked gently.

She stopped and her face fell.

“…What?”

“I mean… who exactly are you?”

Her lower lip trembled, tears welled up again, but she held them back.

She stepped closer and gently placed a hand on his arm.

“I’m your sister… Evelyn.”

The words came gently, but her voice trembled beneath the surface, like a truth she feared would be rejected.

Luca stared.

A sister?

Is she lying?

Or do I just not remember?

It felt surreal. Like he’d stepped into a play midway through, not knowing his role.

Still, something in her eyes made it hard to reject outright.

“…Evelyn. What happened?”

Her face lit up when he said her name.

“You used to call me ‘Sister’ all the time.”

“The earthquake… the bridge collapsed. You hit your head, and I-I thought I was going to lose you too.” Her voice cracked again.

Luca nodded slowly.

“I see. Sister, where are we?”

She paused, voice soft.

“...You really don’t remember?”

“I’m sorry… I don’t.”

“Lu… are you okay?” Evelyn’s voice quivered as she searched his face.

“I… I think. I lost some memories.” He murmured.

She brushed away the tears and leaned near, her voice fragile and low, like a lullaby.

“It’s okay… your sister’s right here. I’ll help you. Always”

“We’re in Naporia, remember? Our city. It’s part of the Silverwind Kingdom, under the Emperor’s watch from Emberhold. Just like it’s always been.”

Luca blinked.

Naporia? Silverwind? Emberhold?

None of those were Earth.

He looked down at his hands, his reflection, and the frame that wasn’t his.

Disbelief prickled his skin.

“What year is it?” he asked quietly.

Evelyn looked into his eyes and spoke softly. “The 27th of Month Seven… year 8000.”

Eight thousand?

His stomach sank.

The far future?

He looked around again. No tech. No towers. Just torn tarps, scattered rubble, and people clinging to broken lives.

This wasn’t the future. If anything, it looked like a history rewritten by a stranger’s dream.

He barely noticed Evelyn crouch beside him until she placed a hand on his shoulder again.

“Lu… you should lie down. You’re still hurt.”

Luca’s thoughts reeled. The idea that he’d been transmigrated, ripped from one life and dropped into another, was absurd. And yet… the pain in his leg, the throb in his skull, all of it was undeniably real.

The girl who called herself his sister sat beside him, her eyes full of quiet hope. But to him, she was a stranger. Everything around him felt like a dream he hadn’t chosen.

He said nothing for a long time.

Then, slowly, he gave a small nod.

“...Alright. I will rest for a bit.”

“Mm…” Her reply was gentle, nearly a hum.

She guided him onto the makeshift bed, just cloth and scattered leaves, soft in the way only exhaustion could make them.

He let himself sink into it, the chill in his bones fading. The pain throbbed dully now, his limbs weighted and slow.

Maybe this is a coma.

Maybe he will wake up in a hospital and Mr. Braun by his side… or his parents.

He thought.

“Rest well, Lu…” Evelyn whispered.

A soft lullaby drifted into his ears, sung just beside him. The melody was unfamiliar, yet it wrapped around him like warmth, lulling him toward sleep.

Under the willow, soft winds cry,

Stars fall slow through a broken sky.

Hush now, darling, close your eyes,

Morning waits where silence lies…

A breeze stirred the dust as Luca closed his eyes.