Kyomu opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was a wooden ceiling, cracked and darkened by age. For a moment, his mind went blank. This was not the rain-soaked alley. Not the city. Not death.
He inhaled.
The air felt different—cleaner, heavier, alive.
Kyomu tried to move.
His body responded instantly.
Too instantly.
He raised his hands and froze. They were smaller, thinner, bearing faint calluses he didn't recognize. When he spoke, the voice that left his mouth was younger and unfamiliar.
"…This isn't my body."
Panic rose, but before it could take hold, something stirred deep within him.
A faint shimmer.
His Aether.
Weak. Flickering. But unmistakably his.
Kyomu exhaled slowly.
"So I really crossed over…"
---
He sat up and scanned the room. It was small and modest: a narrow bed, a wooden table, a clay lamp, and a cracked mirror leaning against the wall. Sunlight filtered through a single window, illuminating floating dust in the air.
Then his head throbbed.
Images—memories—poured in.
Not his.
A name surfaced first.
Neil.
"This body…" Kyomu whispered, gripping the bed, "was Neil's."
---
Fragments of Neil's life unfolded.
A poor boy.
No awakened Aether.
Looked down on.
Ignored.
In this world, power decided everything.
Neil had study. And a very intelligent young man
The memories grew heavier.
A cold night.
An empty stomach.
A fever that wouldn't fade.
Neil had died strangely in this very room—his body too weak, his Aether never awakened. No Sentinel answered him. No miracle came.
Kyomu lowered his head.
"So you reached the end first…"
The body was empty because Neil's life had already slipped away.
And Kyomu had taken its place.
---
Something pressed gently against his awareness.
A presence beyond the room.
Silent. Vast.
Sentinel.
A calm voice echoed in his mind.
This vessel was abandoned.
Your Flicker endured.
Live in his place.
Kyomu clenched his fists.
"I will," he said quietly. "I won't waste it."
---
He stood and faced the cracked mirror.
The reflection showed a thin boy with dark hair and tired eyes.
Neil's face.
But behind those eyes was someone else now.
Someone who had died once already.
Kyomu's Aether trembled.
This world was different.
Aether was everywhere—flowing through the land itself. Not dormant. Not hidden.
"This world…" Kyomu murmured, "was built for power."
---
Footsteps approached outside the room.
Instinctively, Kyomu suppressed his Aether, pulling the Flicker inward.
The door opened.
A woman stepped inside, her clothes simple, her face worn by hardship. When she saw Kyomu standing, her eyes widened with relief.
"Neil…" she said softly. "You're awake."
Kyomu said nothing.
He understood.
To her, he was still Neil—the son who had nearly died.
And in that moment, Kyomu realized something dangerous:
This second life came with attachments.
With expectations.
With risk.
He bowed his head slightly.
If he was to live in Neil's body…
Then he would carry Neil's fate forward.