I wake up.
At least, I think I do. The white light surrounding me is so intense that for a moment I can't tell if my eyes are actually open. I blink. Once. Twice. The light remains, steady and blinding.
Am I dead? Is this what death feels like?
My fingers twitch. I can feel them. My body aches—not painfully, but like something has been... rearranged. Like my bones were taken apart and put back together by someone who wasn't quite sure where everything belonged.
No. Dead people don't feel pain. Do they?
I try to sit up and the light shifts around me, adjusting to my movement as if it's alive. That should terrify me. It probably should. But I'm too exhausted to feel much of anything right now.
"Welcome, Cecil."
I freeze.
The voice is soft—warm in a way that reminds me of sunlight through a window on a quiet morning. I turn my head and find a woman standing beside me. She's small, delicate almost, but there's something about her presence that makes the entire space feel... heavier. More real.
A soft ethereal glow surrounds her and I stare at it for longer than I probably should.
Okay. So either I'm hallucinating or I actually died and this is some kind of afterlife.
"How do you know my name?" The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. My voice sounds rough, unused—like I haven't spoken in days.
She smiles. It's gentle but there's something knowing behind it. Something that tells me she's seen more than I could ever understand.
"My name is Aethera," she says simply. "And I know quite a lot about you, Cecil."
That's... not unsettling at all.
I study her face, searching for any sign that this is a trick. A hallucination. My brain desperately trying to create something comforting before I hit the ground. But she feels real. The air around her feels real.
"Where am I?" I ask carefully. "What happened to me?"
Aethera tilts her head slightly, studying me with an expression I can't quite read. "What do you remember?"
The rooftop. The debt collectors. The edge.
My stomach drops.
The fall.
"I jumped," I say quietly. The words taste bitter. "I jumped and I... I should be dead."
Something flickers across Aethera's face - something that looks almost like sadness - but it disappears before I can name it.
"You should have been," she says softly. "But you weren't."
A silence stretches between us. Not uncomfortable exactly, but heavy. Full of unsaid things.
She's not telling me everything. She knows more than she's letting on.
"So what happens now?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. "Is this... heaven? Some kind of in-between place?"
Aethera lets out a small laugh - soft yet genuine, like my question genuinely amused her.
"Neither, actually. Think of it more like... a waiting room."
A waiting room. For what exactly?
"The Celestians have decided to give you a second chance, Cecil. A new life. In a new world."
I stare at her. The words register but they don't quite make sense - like trying to read a book in a language I almost but don't quite understand.
"A new world," I repeat slowly.
"Yes."
This isn't real. This can't be real. I'm dying on the ground somewhere and my brain is making up stories to cushion the blow.
I close my eyes and press my fingers against my eyelids. Hard. The way I sometimes do when reality feels too slippery to hold onto.
When I open them again, Aethera is still there.
Still real.
"Why?" The question comes out smaller than I intended. Quieter. "Why would you... why would anyone... give me a second chance?"
Something shifts in Aethera's expression. Not pity. Something deeper than that. Something that makes my chest tighten in a way I don't fully understand.
"Because you deserve one," she says simply. As if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
No. No, I don't. I killed my mother just by being born. I drove my father into madness. I couldn't even pay off a debt without..
I swallow hard and force the thoughts down.
Now is not the time or place for such thoughts.
"There is something else though," Aethera continues, watching me carefully.
"Something that came with this second chance."
My guard goes up immediately. Of course. Nothing comes free. There's always a catch.
"What kind of something?" I ask, and I can't quite hide the suspicion in my voice.
Aethera doesn't seem offended by it. If anything, she looks almost... impressed.
"You've been granted a unique ability. One that doesn't come to just anyone." She pauses, letting that sink in. "But I won't explain everything right now. Some things are better understood through experience rather than words."
That's incredibly frustrating.
"So you're just going to leave me here? In the dark? Literally?" I gesture around at the white space and immediately feel stupid for it.
This time Aethera actually laughs. A real one - bright and warm and completely at odds with the strange heaviness of this place.
"Not in the dark, Cecil. Quite the opposite, actually." She steps closer and for a moment that ethereal glow around her intensifies, casting everything in soft silver light.
"Your journey is just beginning. And trust me when I say, it's worth waiting."
Easy for her to say. She's a goddess. My life is... whatever this is.
"I have so many questions," I say, and I hate how lost I sound. How small.
Aethera's smile turns gentle. Not pitying, just... understanding. Like she knows exactly what it feels like to stand in the middle of uncertainty and not know which direction to walk.
"And you will get answers," she promises quietly. "But not all at once. Not tonight."
Before I can respond - before I can ask what tonight even means in a place like this - the silver light around her begins to fade. Her form starts to shimmer, becoming translucent at the edges.
"Wait—" I reach out instinctively but my hand passes through nothing but warm air.
"The Celestians are watching, Cecil. Make them proud."
Her voice echoes even after she disappears completely, leaving me alone in the white silence.
I sit there for a long time, staring at the empty space where she once stood.
A new world. A second chance. A unique ability.
And absolutely no idea what any of it means.
A golden glow begins to envelope me - different from Aethera's silver light. Warmer. Deeper. It seeps into my skin and something inside me shifts, like a key turning in a lock I didn't know existed.
What the-
The warmth intensifies and suddenly everything is pulling at me - my body, my mind, my very sense of self being stretched in every direction. I squeeze my eyes shut.
Trust them. Trust the Celestians. Trust whatever this is.
I literally have no other choice anyway.
The last thing I feel is warmth wrapping around me like a blanket before everything goes black.
When I open my eyes again, I'm laying on a bed.
Not the white void. Not Aethera's waiting room. An actual bed, in an actual room, with dark gray walls and black and white decor that definitely isn't my style.
Okay. So that actually happened.
I sit up slowly, my body feeling strange—familiar and foreign at the same time. Like wearing clothes that almost fit but not quite.
I stretch, the way I do every morning out of habit, and the routine of it grounds me. Something normal. Something I know.
At least some things don't change.
I look around the room, my eyes scanning every detail automatically. Something about this place feels...
Wrong? No. Not wrong exactly. Just... off.
The desk in the corner. The bookshelf. The grey blanket draped over the leather armchair. Everything looks neat. Organised. Like someone carefully arranged it all before I woke up.
Did someone set this up for me? Is someone watching?
My fingers twitch.
Stop it. You don't know anything yet. Don't assume. Don't-
But what if-
Stop.
I press my palms flat against the mattress and force myself to breathe. In. Out. The way I taught myself to do when the thoughts get too loud. It doesn't always work but right now it's all I have.
Okay. New room. New place. You survived worse than this.
Did you though?
I ignore that thought.
The room feels quiet - too quiet. The kind of silence that feels heavy, like it's waiting for something to happen. I'm about to get up and explore when-
Knock. Knock.
I freeze.
My heart jumps into my throat immediately. Every muscle in my body goes rigid and for a split second I'm back on that rooftop - cornered, trapped, nowhere to run-
No. Stop. You're not there anymore.
I take a breath. Then another.
You don't even know who it is. It could be anyone. It could be nothing.
But what if it's not nothing? What if-
"Come in," I call out before my mind can spiral any further. Maybe if I just get it over with, the anxiety will quiet down.
Maybe.
The door opens slightly and I see my father's face.
My heart stops.
Dad?
He's standing in the doorway, coffee mug in hand, looking... normal. Healthy. Like the man I remembered from childhood - before the drinking, before the gambling, before he disappeared and left me to face the consequences alone on a rooftop.
This isn't real. This can't be real.
I stare at him, searching for any sign that this is wrong. That underneath the calm smile and the warm eyes there's the hollow, broken man who abandoned me. But there's nothing. He looks... okay. He looks genuinely okay.
How?
"Morning, son." He smiles warmly. "Come downstairs, Molly already prepared breakfast for us."
Breakfast. He's talking about breakfast like this is a normal morning. Like everything is fine.
Is everything fine? Was it ever not fine here?
"D-Dad?" The word stumbles out of my mouth before I can think. My voice sounds strange - unsure in a way I haven't felt in years.
He tilts his head slightly, studying me with mild concern. "Yeah? You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
If only you knew.
I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again.
What do you even say in this situation? How do I explain that the last time I saw you, you had already destroyed your life? That I died because of the mess you left behind? That I stood on a rooftop and chose to jump because there was nothing left?
I can't say any of that. Obviously.
So what do I say?
"I... yeah," I manage finally, forcing a small smile onto my face. The mask. Again. Already. "I just... didn't sleep well."
Liar.
Dad nods, accepting the answer without pressing further. Something about that - the way he just lets it go - makes my chest ache in a way I don't fully understand.
In my past life, he never asked how I was doing either. But back then it was because he didn't care anymore.
Now it feels different. Now it feels like he trusts me enough to handle my own problems.
Does he even know what kind of problems I have?
"You should eat something," he says casually, already turning back toward the stairs. "Molly's been cooking since six. I think she made your favourites."
My favourites. He remembers my favourites.
Something tight and uncomfortable winds itself around my ribs.
I don't have a name for it yet—this strange mix of gratitude and grief and something dangerously close to guilt.
This man destroyed my life in another world. And here he is, making sure I eat breakfast.
Which version of him is real?
"Yeah," I say quietly, standing up from the bed. My legs feel steadier than I expected. "Yeah, okay. Let's eat."
Dad smiles again - small, genuine smile - before disappearing back down the hallway.
His footsteps are light. Unhurried.
I stand there for a moment longer, rooted to the spot.
This is your life now. This world. This version of everything.
You don't get to compare it to the one that almost killed you.
But you're going to anyway, aren't you?
I don't answer my own question.
I just follow him downstairs.