Ayla died in her room.

  Her final breath was met not by darkness, but by an unfamiliar warmth. Her soul drifted from her body, only to be pulled, gently but irresistibly, into another. She couldn’t move or speak, only felt.

  And then, her consciousness settled into a different body.

  Cryssa’s.

  The girl had been sleeping soundly in her room, but the moment Ayla’s presence entered, her eyes snapped open. A sharp pain erupted in her head, and she clutched at her temples with a soft cry.

  “Ugh…”

  It wasn’t just pain, but it was memory.

  Ayla’s memories poured into Cryssa’s soul, while Cryssa’s rushed into Ayla’s. It wasn’t like watching someone else’s life. It was like living it, every wound, every joy, every lonely moment. Their emotions tangled together, as if they had always been one.

  “…Ayla?”

  Cryssa whispered the name, her voice trembling. It was a name she had never heard before, and yet it felt inexplicably familiar. As if she’d always known it, hidden somewhere in the back of her mind.

  (“That’s… me?”)

  A soft voice echoed in her mind, hesitant and unsure.

  Cryssa sat up quickly in her bed, her eyes wide.

  “W-What are you doing inside my body?!”

  Terror surged through her as the realization sank in, there was another presence inside her, a girl named Ayla.

  (“W-Wait! Calm down first, alright?”)

  Ayla’s voice rang again in Cryssa’s head. Though she sounded just as bewildered, she was doing a better job at keeping herself composed.

  Maybe it was because she’d read enough manga to know this kind of thing wasn’t entirely unheard of… even if it was completely insane.

  Cryssa, oddly, felt the same. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to keep her panic in check. Somehow, Ayla’s calm tone helped.

  Then something shimmered in front of her.

  A soft, translucent figure began to form, a glowing, light-blue version of Ayla, hovering just above the bed. She wasn’t fully solid, more like a ghostly silhouette, and seemed unable to stray far from Cryssa’s body. Still, she managed to “sit” cross-legged on the bed, although parts of her legs slipped through the blankets.

  The two of them stared at each other in silence.

  (“So…”)

  Ayla crossed her arms and tried to sound confident, though her voice wavered slightly.

  (“I… I think I died in my room. And the next thing I knew, I was… here, inside you.”)

  Ayla paused, eyes widened. She cringed inwardly, realizing how utterly absurd it all sounded, like a child caught red-handed trying to explain away a broken vase with a story about magical wind spirits.

  Then, with a burst of panic, she blurted out:

  (“I-I swear I don’t know what happened! I didn’t mean to possess you or anything! I have no idea what’s going on!”)

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  The words tumbled out of her before she could stop them, each one sounding more ridiculous than the last. As she heard herself speak, a wave of embarrassment hit her like a punch to the stomach.

  She looked away, cheeks burning, her ghostly fingers fidgeting in her lap.

  Cryssa stared for a moment, then to her own surprise…she laughed. Just a small, dry chuckle, but it felt strange and unfamiliar after weeks of silence.

  Then, she replied gently.

  “I believe you.”

  “That pain I felt earlier… It must’ve been your memories.”

  “If my life ended like that too, I can imagine how confused it must be.”

  (“…Wait. My memories?”)

  “Yes.”

  Cryssa’s expression softened as she tilted her head, thinking aloud.

  “Ayla. Seventeen years old. Orphaned since a kid. No friend…”

  She paused, her brow furrowing slightly.

  “You… liked those strange illustrated books. Manga, manhwa, manhua? Whatever they are.”

  “And… moving pictures? Anime?” She said the words slowly, unfamiliar on her tongue.

  Cryssa blinked, then added with a hint of wonder,

  “You even cried when a character died in one of them… even though you knew it wasn’t real.”

  (“A-Alright! Stop! I get it!”)

  Ayla covered her face, clearly flustered.

  (“You don’t have to say it out loud! That’s so embarrassing!”)

  Cryssa smiled, a quiet sense of satisfaction blooming in her chest as she teased the girl hovering before her.

  But Ayla wasn’t going to take that lying down. Her eyes gleamed with mischief, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as her competitive spirit flared to life.

  (“Oh, so that’s how we’re playing it? Fine then.”)

  (“Cryssa, a youngest daughter of a noble family. No friends either.”)

  (“Totally pampered by your big sister.”)

  (“And let’s not forget how you sneak cookies to your niece behind everyone’s back, because someone can’t resist those puppy eyes.”)

  Cryssa’s face flushed as she realized that of course Ayla had seen her memories too.

  “Okay, okay! I surrender! Just stop before you say anything worse!”

  She flailed her hands a little, trying to stop the teasing before Ayla could reveal anything more embarrassing.

  They both started laughing.

  It was awkward and sudden, but genuine. The kind of laugh that came from relief, from finding someone when you thought you were all alone.

  Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. A voice called gently from the other side.

  “Lady Cryssa? I heard a shout. Are you alright?”

  Cryssa stiffened for a moment, then quickly composed herself.

  “I-I’m fine. It’s just a nightmare. I’ll go back to sleep soon.”

  “…Understood, my lady.”

  The footsteps retreated. The quiet returned.

  Cryssa looked at Ayla, still floating in front of her like a faint shimmer in the dark.

  They shared a look. And then both of them laughed again, softer this time, but warmer. A strange comfort settled between them, one neither of them had felt in a long time.

  That night, for the first time in many nights, two lonely girls no longer felt alone.

  After their laughter faded into a comfortable quiet, a shadow of concern crossed Cryssa’s face. Her eyes, now thoughtful and sharp, met the glowing silhouette of Ayla before her.

  “If your memories are real, then this world… it’s a game?”

  Ayla’s expression grew serious. She nodded.

  (“Yeah. I’ve never met anyone from the Stelluna family before…”)

  (“But if this place really is the ruined town I visited in the game, then I remember reading a bit about Stelluna. Just scraps of lore, really.”)

  The kind of background details most players ignored, like throwaway lines in item descriptions, useless details that wouldn’t affect the main storyline. Even Ayla, who had always devoured lore with a ravenous curiosity, had barely pieced anything together at the time.

  But one thing stood out in her mind with chilling clarity.

  (“The Stelluna household... it’s going to be destroyed.”)

  Cryssa’s breath caught.

  (“And not during the main story. It happens even before the game begins. I don’t know the exact date, but if this really is that timeline... then it could happen tomorrow, or next week, or in a few weeks. But definitely within a month, no more than that.”)

  The room fell silent again, no longer with laughter, but with the weight of a truth too heavy for one to bear alone.

  From this moment on, their fates were bound.

  Two souls, once strangers, now tethered by memory, and the looming echo of shared fate yet to unfold.