As I sat by the window, staring through the narrow crack in the gate, the starlit sky stretched endlessly above. My thoughts wandered—to life, to death, and to the path ahead.
A soft knock broke the silence.
"Come in," I said without turning.
The door creaked open, and when I looked back, I saw my mother standing there—graceful, composed, a quiet calm in her every step. In her arms, my little sister Elia, eyes heavy with sleep, nestled against her shoulder.
The moment Elia saw me, her arms reached out.
"Brother… Elia want to sleep with you."
I took her gently into my arms.
"Alright, Elia will sleep with brother tonight."
She clung to me for a moment before I laid her on my bed, tucking the blanket around her small frame. In the process, this little monster of mine had already drifted off to sleep. I watched her for a second. A smile—rare and genuine—crossed my lips.
"Tonight, she really insisted," my mother said softly. "Your father tried to convince her otherwise. He thought you should rest alone—big day tomorrow—but you know how she is."
I chuckled.
"Don't worry, Mum. You know I like sleeping with her too."
My mother stepped further into the room. There was always something ethereal about her presence. She wasn't cold, just quiet—like a lake untouched by wind.
"I saw you staring at the night sky through the gate crack," she said. "Your face looked… thoughtful. You don't have to tell me, but I wanted to ask."
In two lifetimes, no one had ever known me as she did. She could read me with a glance. And for once, it felt nice—not suffocating, but comforting.
I wanted to tell her everything. About the decision I'd made. About the goal I'd chosen. It would affect them, after all. They deserved to know.
But not yet. Not now.
"No, Mum. I was just thinking about the academy—what my first day will be like."
She gave me a look—the kind that said she didn't believe a word.
"We know, honey. You've never cultivated. You only got admission because of your research work. But that doesn't matter to us. We've never cared about which academy you go to. Or if you go at all. You can always come back, continue your research here. The family business is still yours, if you want it."
Warmth bloomed in my chest. They didn't expect greatness from me. Just happiness.
For a moment, I remembered my first life—battling alone for every scrap of joy. Here, surrounded by this understanding, it all felt impossibly rare and precious.
"I know, Mum. You and Dad have always been there for me. But you got it wrong—I wasn't worried. I was just wondering how the academy looks… and maybe how many friends I'll make."
Her raised brow said it all.
"Friends? You haven't made a single one in sixteen years, and now you expect me to believe you'll suddenly make some? Not even a ghost would buy that."
Ah. I knew that excuse wouldn't work. Even if I'd come up with a better one, she would've seen through it. But her gentle teasing made me laugh, even as it reminded me how exposed I was to her—how futile it was to try hiding anything.
"Mum, when you know I'm lying, do you have to call me out like that? Sometimes I wish you couldn't read me so easily. I feel embarrassed that I can't even lie to you properly."
She smiled—and her smile looked like twinkling stars. How beautiful she looked when she smiled like that.
"Alright, enough overacting," she said gently. "You don't have to tell me anything. Just sleep. It's already late, and you'll need to wake up early."
"Goodnight, Mum."
"Goodnight, honey."
I turned to Elia and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.
"Goodnight to you too, baby."
---
Morning arrived with the songs of birds in Stonehill. A crisp breeze floated through the open window.
And then—
"Brother! Brother! Wake up!"
Something slammed into my stomach.
Pain.
I jolted upright from my dream to find Elia—my two-year-old little monster—jumping on me like I was her personal trampoline.
"Hey! Stop! I'm going to die if you keep jumping like that!"
I caught her mid-leap, cradling her against my chest. She giggled, proud of her wake-up assault.i don't know how can a little body store that much of energy that she is always full of energy.
That's how my journey toward immortality began—with a stomach ache and the laughter of a tiny terror.
---
I started packing.
A few clothes, my customized laptop, and my ancient wired headphones. People would stare—I knew it. In a world where students could summon holographic computers through their eyes and stream music directly into their minds via spirit-links, I still preferred two-century-old tech.
The laptop was bulky. The earphones were tangled. The headphone's leather pads were worn from years of use.
It was weird. Really weird. Even I knew it.
But I didn't care.
Everyone else had moved on—embraced the seamless integration of spirit-tech and mental interfaces—but I still held on to the texture, the sound, the feel of the old ways. There was something deeply personal in hearing the music through your ears. Something real. Something human.
Just like my car.
The VENTEG 2000.
A beast I had built myself.
In an age where flying cars were the norm and AI navigation controlled every movement, my car had gears. A clutch. A growling engine. Manual controls. A relic that roared like an ancient beast.
If someone saw it, they'd probably think I was filming some vintage drama or preparing for a historical festival.
They wouldn't be entirely wrong.
People looked at me like I was insane when they saw it. A car on the road? On wheels? With sound? It was practically an alien artifact.
But I loved it.
And I didn't care if I looked like a weirdo.
I was a weirdo. Even in my last life, I'd been called that enough times to stop caring.
---
After packing, I stood at the front door. My parents were waiting.
"Take care of yourself," my mother said.
"Call us if anything happens," added my father.
"I will. Don't worry," I replied.
Then came the hardest part.
Elia.
She was bawling. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clung to my leg.
"Brother no go! Brother stay!"
I knelt down and gave her my last candy. Her favorite.
"Hey, don't cry, okay? I'll come back. I promise. This is for you. So be good, alright?"
I kissed her forehead, turned away quickly, and stepped into my car. If I looked back, I knew I'd postpone everything for another day.
The engine roared to life, echoing like thunder through the quiet streets.
And then I was off.
Down the winding road from Stonehill to the glowing heart of the capital. My tires screeched against the smooth stone as airships soared above, sleek and silent. I was the only one still clinging to the ground.
People turned to look.
Some confused.
Some curious.
Some amused.
They didn't know it yet—but that strange boy in the loud, ridiculous, outdated car...
Was driving straight toward Lightspire Academy.