Sasha's POV
Badump. Badump. Badump.
I could practically feel my heart jumping out of my chest. Ever since Lucas had lent me his mobile game, I felt like my breaths had been shorter and I had gotten more anxious, generally speaking. Not only that, my brain constantly itched as if it were forcing me to recall something in particular, but the said memory never surfaced.
I had always felt that my surroundings were strange, especially after being exposed to other people's lifestyles.
For one, I was isolated. There were missing gaps in everything around me to the point where it was almost eerie. I operated under the understanding that I had suffered an accident in my early teenage years, leaving me with no recollection of any memory prior to that stage. I also had no details as to what that accident was supposed to be.
Secondly, I was residing in an old bungalow alone. My parents were both working overseas; however, they had not contacted me even once. I possessed no memories of their appearances, voices, or personalities. Whenever I needed something approved for my studies, the teachers informed me that my guardians had already been contacted and had given their approval.
Thirdly, I had never had to struggle for anything. I somehow always had what I needed in my possession. In terms of monetary means, I had been left a bank account with an absurd amount of money in it. I had never seen the balance dwindle below 8,000,000 Rich. I had tried withdrawing the entire amount previously by the increments the bank allowed, but the next month, I received double the amount I had taken. It was humanly impossible for anyone to earn that much legitimately. My neighbors provided all the food and supplies I required, so I was never forced to procure my own resources. I had no idea who my neighbors actually were, yet they possessed a complete understanding of my character.
I understood that the points I enumerated were privileges not everyone had access to, and I was grateful to live a life without strife. However, it could not be denied.
A life this convenient reeked of suspicious activity.
The only time I had felt my environment was familiar was when Lucas lent me that game of his called Reverie Mirage. The controls were confusing, but I recognized the setting immediately. I grasped the concept of the game almost at once. At first, I thought it was simply a case of déjà vu, but multiple instances proved that could not be the case.
Firstly, Lucas praised my skill at the game. It had surprised even me that utilizing the character he gave me felt entirely second nature. I knew the Staff of Stars, and I understood the complexity of its power.
Secondly, the character Panlias was someone I knew. My heart had sunk the moment I saw him, intimately versed in the pain and suffering he had endured in the narrative.
Not just in the way Lucas described it—no.
I knew Panlias.
He dyed the upper half of his hair mauve as opposed to his natural lilac so he would not seem as soft as he actually was. He was insecure about how others perceived him, and because he knew he was the symbol of hope for his people, he dressed in a dark, assertive manner to hide his sensitive heart. His people already knew.
He tended to take things to heart and grew overemotional from stories told to him. Whenever he was stressed, he ate sweets, keeping a pack of candies hidden beneath his cloak at all times.
Panlias had also been warned by Faenikzha never to go near any lakes—especially not when she was with him. They had fought several times due to his stubborn nature, and I knew Faenikzha would have been furious seeing the scene Lucas showed me of him monologuing by the lakeside.
I knew all of this as fact. Even if it was never mentioned in the game text, I knew it to be true. This begged the question: how did I know these things?
I had never encountered the game before Lucas introduced it to me. I was unsettled by the gambling mechanics designed for monetary gain, but that was beside the point.
I formulated a few hypotheses.
First, could this be nostalgia I simply failed to recall?
I debunked this because there was no technology in my home. I had never even seen a television unit until a teacher used one for a presentation at the academy.
The other possibility was sheer coincidence. That felt far too dismissive, failing to explain my deep familiarity with Panlias or how I understood the mechanics and technicalities of the Staff of Stars.
Perhaps it was something tied to the game itself? That was the most plausible conclusion, so I had downloaded the application the night before. I had not gotten far into the main campaign, but I progressed enough to become acquainted with Panlias and Faenikzha.
I booted up the game and waited for the patch to finish downloading.
Lucas had previously mentioned that I looked similar to Faenikzha and that my personality reminded him of her. I had not understood where he was coming from at the time, but there was something about Faenikzha that felt painfully familiar—to the point where breathing grew difficult whenever her sprite appeared on screen.
The game loaded, and as if on cue, my character stood directly in front of Faenikzha in the Old Zesseyel Palace.
The Old Zesseyel Palace was built like an enormous arena, its circular structure surrounded by towering stone walls and rows of elevated arches. The outer walls were worn with age, while the inner sections rose in layers, with wide stairways leading toward the higher levels. Large pillars supported the upper structures, flanked by statues of ancient Zesselyan figures. It looked less like a palace meant solely for royalty and more like a gathering ground built for an entire civilization.
I did not see the physical resemblance between myself and Faenikzha, but I could understand why Lucas found us similar in an abstract sense.
The tightness of the ribbon around her neck; the heavy ruffles in her skirt that hindered her movements in battle. I also remembered how those gloves concealed the callouses on her hands, and how agonizing it had been to break her soft skin just to become adept at warfare.
The common consensus among players was to use Faenikzha strictly for support, with most guides suggesting her kit was impractical on its own and only viable within a coordinated team.
I disagreed. I had chosen her weapon as my starting armament and found it easy to coast through the game by experimenting with the elemental and environmental status effects her skills inflicted. The fact that she could immediately self-heal made prolonged exploration possible without needing to rest at a church. I had tested other weapons, such as Panlias's or Quadratus's, and found that while their base damage and agility were higher, Faenikzha's versatility was far easier to command.
I navigated my character through the halls and spotted writing carved into the wall. It was written in the ancient script of Zesseyel—blurry and pixelated on the screen—yet for some reason, I could decipher the meaning clearly.
"On the Night of the 100th Blood Moon, the Chosen Child of Zesseyel would end the reign of Slebek in a land surrounded by the Holy Waters from the hand of Lord Teirnbat," the inscription read.
"Who is this Lord Teirnbat?" my character voiced aloud.
Lord Teirnbat was known to every Zesselyan. He was the first king of Zesseyel. He and his sister, Ahhibat, were descendants of the aristocracy that once ruled Yabbat—the ancient name of the unified continent before the schism. When their father passed, he divided the land between the two heirs: Ahhibat claimed the West, now known as Slebek, while Lord Teirnbat inherited the East, named Zesseyel.
The siblings held opposing philosophies regarding their rule. Lord Teirnbat was revered for his devotion to nature, a value reflected in how he governed. His people lived in harmony with the land and welcomed diversity; anyone could become a Zesselyan so long as they respected the culture and ideology. Lord Teirnbat also introduced early democracy, allowing qualified citizens to lead while the royal lineage stepped back to oversee diplomacy.
The war between Slebek and Zesseyel had erupted from Ahhibat's drive to innovate. She had proposed collaborating on technological advancements to improve the efficiency of daily life, but her methods required exploiting the natural order and draining the fundamental essence of the universe. Lord Teirnbat fiercely opposed her ambitions, severing diplomatic ties between the two nations.
A fragile peace endured for ten years until Slebek's domestic resources dwindled. Foreign trade required too many assets, leading Ahhibat to invade Zesseyel outright. Zesseyel lost its western territories early on, and the war continued unabated a century later.
Panlias was a descendant of Lady Ahhibat, while Faenikzha descended from Lord Teirnbat. As the chosen child, Faenikzha had been born with violet eyes, her left eye shifting color whenever she channeled elemental magic.
None of this was knowledge I should have possessed. The protagonist had not uncovered these details in the plot yet, making my comprehensive understanding entirely abnormal.
I had to admit the truth to myself: I was intimately connected to this world. The fact that I understood its ancient scripts and unwritten histories made it impossible to deny. Ludicrous as it felt, I had to assume I was somehow part of this narrative; otherwise, there was no logical explanation for why its lore lived inside my head.
I guided my avatar across the river and arrived at an abandoned settlement. The villages along the Zesseyel River had been the first to fall. Though Zesseyel still held territory east of the water, the region had become uninhabitable after Slebek poisoned the water supply and shelled the surrounding farmlands.
The village was barely recognizable. Collapsed roofs and charred walls lined the empty path. Broken fences enclosed neglected fields where blackened grass stretched toward the riverbank. Abandoned tools and overturned wagons sat where their owners had dropped them. There were no civilians, no livestock, and no indications that anyone would ever return. Everything pointed to a frantic, terrified evacuation.
Vivid images suddenly flashed behind my eyes: families torn apart in the night; homes and crops engulfed in flames; lives reduced to ash. I saw fields burning bright against the darkness, injured children stumbling as they tried to flee, and two hands glowing with brilliant blue light. A cool breeze swept across the embers, and wherever those hands touched, wounds began to close.
Tears spilled down my cheeks at the memory. The phantom scent of smoke filled my throat, constricting my chest. Every landmark along this path was familiar. I knew the ruined houses by the river bordered an old farm whose final crop had been pumpkins, grown for the Autumnus Harvest Festival where the whole province would gather to share a communal stew.
I recognized the terrain completely, so even though the active quest marker pointed toward Slebek Castle, an instinct compelled me to detour toward the dilapidated church at the edge of the Forest of Rumor. That forest was where Ahhibat's betrayal had first been whispered, a grim woodland bordering a mire where the Pellaidh nested.
I wiped my eyes with my sleeve and steadied my breathing, preparing myself for the encounter ahead.
Sure enough, there he stood.
Prince Panlias the Beloved.
I directed my character toward him, initiating an open-world interaction outside of a cutscene for the very first time.
"Good day, adventurer," Panlias greeted. "Me? Please do not mind my sitting here for your rituals. I am only here to reflect."
I tapped the dialogue prompt again.
The exact same text appeared.
I tapped it a third time.
The same static line.
I knew there were deeper words meant to be spoken. I knew what he was supposed to say, the stories he would tell, and the quiet cadence of his voice when speaking about his people and the war.
I did not know how I knew, but the certainty was absolute.
I pressed the screen once more.
Nothing changed.
Before I could process the empty silence, Lucas's voice called out behind me.
"Sash, you're late for our meeting!" he pointed out.
I froze.
"..." Emery remained quiet, watching from his side.
"Oh. Right. I apologize. I lost track of time." I looked around, caught completely off guard.
"You're crying again..." Emery murmured, digging into his pockets before extending a pack of tissues toward me.
"Aww, Sasha, what were you doing? Oh, were you playing RevMira?" Lucas asked with a bright smile.
A sudden wave of guilt washed over me as I realized I had neglected my responsibilities for a video game. "Please do not mention this to the others. It was irresponsible of me."
Emery offered an understanding nod.
"No problemo! Happens to the best of us!" Lucas beamed.
"No... really... please," I whispered, keeping my gaze lowered.
Irresponsibility was unbecoming of my position.
"Alright, let's just head inside so we don't fall further behind," Lucas relented, motioning toward the corridor.
I gave a stiff nod, and together we walked into the meeting room.