They say people see their lives flash before their eyes when death is near. Some claim they reminisce about their happiest memories; others say they're flooded with regret.
Bellathria Astralis?
She was mostly wondering why her life had been one long cosmic joke.
Perched at the edge of the hospital's rooftop, she dangled her legs over the ledge like she was sitting at a park bench rather than contemplating the tragic absurdity of it all. Cold wind brushed against her cheeks, tugging at the loose strands of her dark hair, and above her stretched a velvet sky scattered with stars... the kind of sky that made poets sigh and broken people make wishes.
She wasn't supposed to be here, technically. Patients usually stayed in their rooms and processed their trauma like proper civilized citizens. But Bellathria had always preferred rational solitude over group therapy sessions where strangers took turns trauma-dumping like contestants on a miserable game show.
Her life had started at the bottom... an orphan with no surname, no family, and apparently, no karmic luck either. She grew up watching other children get picked up by smiling parents, waving goodbye as they drove off into a pastel-colored future. Meanwhile, she remained behind the orphanage gates, her name untouched on every adoption list.
Maybe it was her personality. "Uncanny," they used to whisper. She was too sharp, too honest, too… much. People preferred cute, pliable kids they could mold. Not someone who asked why bedtime stories contradicted actual science.
Still, Bellathria made do. If life wouldn't hand her a family, then she'd build her own safety net. She studied hard, earned scholarships, and climbed the academic ladder with all the stubbornness of a weed cracking through concrete. By the time she graduated, she already had a job lined up... no family, no backing, just pure competence and an iron will.
She was diligent, professional, and unflinchingly precise. Colleagues admired her. Superiors relied on her. Within a few years, she'd clawed her way up to Director... proof that even orphans without surnames could reach the top through sheer effort.
Of course, reality didn't like ambitious women without powerful daddies.
Nepotism arrived like a bulldozer. Some executive's niece needed a fancy position, and Bellathria became the "restructuring casualty." One day she was Director. The next, Supervisor. No scandal, no explanation... just the quiet erasure of a woman without a safety net.
She didn't cry. She didn't rage. She adjusted, as she always had. Because Bellathria knew: complaining never stopped the machine.
Then, against all odds, she met someone. He was kind, at first. Gentle. Made her believe that maybe, just maybe, she could have a future that didn't involve cold ledges and starry skies. They married. She got pregnant... with twins, no less. She'd been terrified, but also fiercely determined.
She'd vowed that her children would never feel the emptiness she had.
And for a while, things were… good. Not perfect, but almost. Then the subtle changes began. The man who once held her gently started raising his voice. The hands that once caressed her belly turned into fists that left bruises. Names replaced endearments. His warmth evaporated, leaving behind the stranger she'd married.
The cheating was just the grand finale. She caught him, and in the confrontation, he pushed her. Down the stairs.
Her twins didn't make it.
Bellathria did.
Physically, at least.
Emotionally? She'd been buried with them.
Now, here she was... alone again, sitting on a rooftop, looking for air but finding only the bitter taste of irony. Her hospital gown fluttered in the wind like a white flag.
She tilted her head back. The sky above was breathtaking tonight... countless stars shimmering like distant promises no one kept. Ethereal. Lofty. Untouchable.
And then she saw it.
A streak of light cut across the night sky... a shooting star.
Most people would make romantic wishes at that sight. Bellathria? She scoffed under her breath.
"…Why not," she muttered, because honestly, what else did she have to lose?
She closed her eyes and whispered into the vast, indifferent sky,
"I wish… in my next life, the heavens will compensate me for losing my twins. I want to be as fertile as the land itself, to bear as many children as I want. And… I want to be loved."
Her tone wasn't desperate. It was measured, rational.... like she was filing a celestial compensation claim with the universe's HR department. She wasn't asking for revenge or glory. Just a fair trade. She'd suffered enough.
With the wish spoken, she sighed and stood. Time to go back downstairs and pretend she hadn't just gotten poetic with a chunk of burning rock.
Except… the universe had a wicked sense of humor.
The moment she turned, a sudden force slammed into her back. Her eyes widened as the ledge disappeared from under her feet.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding...."
She plummeted.
Wind roared past her ears, whipping at her hair as the world turned into a blur of lights and cold. Time seemed to stretch, each heartbeat louder than the last. She should've been terrified. Instead, her brain, in its infinite rationality, calmly noted, Well, at least this time I don't have to make the choice myself.
And then....
"Birth System initiating.....
Soul bound: complete!"
"Hello, Host~!"
Her thoughts screeched to a halt.
"…What."
Before she could finish processing the very illegal-sounding voice in her head, darkness swallowed her whole.