The sea lay calm before him, its waves breaking gently against the shore. It was the place he always ran to whenever the weight of the world became too heavy. Noah sat on the rocks, staring at the sunset, lost in the storm of his own thoughts.
*I'm just an ordinary high school senior… My name is Noah. And today, I learned the truth that will end it all: stage-four lung cancer.*
He let out a slow breath, his eyes locked on the burning horizon.
*Strangely, I'm not afraid of death… What hurts me is knowing I won't get to stay longer with my family… with my brother.*
He rose slowly to his feet, eyes following the fading strands of sunlight.
"I wish this moment would never end…" he whispered.
But his body betrayed him. A violent cough tore through his chest, his knees trembling beneath him. He glanced around in panic, but there was no one to help. His breath faltered, his lungs burned, and his chest tightened until he couldn't breathe. Then, his body collapsed onto the sand.
And then… darkness.
---
No sound. No light. Nothing but emptiness. Noah floated weightlessly in the void, a single thought echoing through his mind:
*So… I really died, didn't I?*
*What comes after death? Heaven? Hell? Or nothing at all?*
He had never considered himself a saint, nor was he a monster. He had lived life his own way, caring only about what concerned him, ignoring everything else.
*Does that make me selfish? Will I be judged for that?*
But suddenly… something pulled him out of the void.
A faint, rhythmic beeping pierced the silence.
*Beep… beep…*
A mechanical sound, steady and cold, growing sharper with every moment.
Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open. Harsh white light assaulted his vision, forcing him to shut them again before daring another attempt. He was lying on a wide bed, an oxygen mask strapped to his face, wires running from his body into strange machines that blinked beside him.
His confused eyes darted around. The room was spacious, the walls unfamiliar, the devices nothing like any hospital he had ever seen.
*Where… am I?* he thought, his voice barely a whisper.
The door burst open.
A woman in a nurse's uniform stepped inside, holding a small file in her hands. She froze the instant she saw his open eyes, her expression widening with shock.
"My God… he's awake! I need to inform the lady immediately!" she gasped, then hurried out, leaving Noah drowning in confusion.
*The lady? What lady? Where the hell am I?*
His lips parted unconsciously. "Mom…"
And then it hit him. His head split open with a flood of memories. They weren't his. Faces, places, a childhood he had never lived.
*These aren't mine… these memories don't belong to me.*
Then he recognized it.
This was the life of a side character from his own novel.
The sickly boy doomed to die before the story even began.
**Eternal Slumber.** That was the name of the disease.
A rare curse. When one is born with an extreme sensitivity to mana, their body rejects it instead of harmonizing with it. Mana floods the veins uncontrollably, draining the body and slowly pushing it into an endless sleep from which there is no return.
But within that curse… hid something else.
*A blessing.*
If one could survive, if they could learn to seize control of mana instead of being consumed by it… they would awaken a capacity unlike any other. A power beyond the limits of humankind.
Noah's chest rose and fell in shuddering breaths, his hand trembling as he touched himself.
*So this is the body I've inherited? A body cursed to die… and yet, one that holds the key to unimaginable strength?*
His eyes shook as denial poured from his lips.
"This isn't right… I died… I'm sure of it… this isn't real!"
He tried to rise from the bed, but his body refused. He collapsed back onto the mattress, his voice breaking into a scream.
"Where the hell am I?! Leave me alone! Just let me rest!"
His voice cracked as he looked toward the ceiling, shouting into the void.
"You… God… or whatever you are… please!"
His anger crumbled into something fragile, broken. Tears spilled down his cheeks, burning hot.
"Please… just… let me rest…"
And deep inside, he no longer knew if he was begging for life… or for death.
A sudden rush of footsteps echoed through the hall before the door burst open.
A woman with long violet hair and amethyst eyes rushed inside, her face trembling with emotion. She threw her arms around the frail boy on the bed, pressing him to her chest.
"My son… my precious Luca…!" her voice cracked as tears streamed down her cheeks. "Seven years… you've been asleep since you were seven years old… and now, finally… finally, you've opened your eyes!"
The boy's pale face reflected her features, almost like a mirror—his own violet hair, though dulled, and eyes of piercing blue. Yet his expression remained distant, his gaze fixed upward at the ceiling.
*Why…? Why does this warmth feel so unfamiliar?*
*Why am I… happy?*
*These aren't my emotions… they don't belong to me.*
Before he could comprehend the storm within him, another figure entered.
A young girl rushed into the room, her violet hair swaying as tears spilled freely down her face. She was his mirror image, a twin carved from the same mold.
"Brother…!" she cried, her voice breaking as she stumbled toward him.
Luca turned his eyes to her—confused, conflicted, and drowning in feelings that weren't his own.
The moment his eyes met hers, his heart froze.
*Impossible…!*
He recognized her instantly. The violet hair, the glistening eyes brimming with tears—there was no mistake.
She was **one of the female characters** from his novel… or rather, from the dreams he had written down.
A character whose fate he knew, whose story he remembered, even the exact moment when her tears would fall for the last time.
And yet, here she was—alive, breathing, crying—calling out to him as if he truly belonged in her world.
"Brother…!"
His chest trembled with a storm of emotions: astonishment, confusion… and a trace of fear.
*Why… why am I here? And why must I become part of their story?*