The evening air is crisp as you step onto the balcony of Aetherion Academy, the sky above a canvas of violet and gold as the sun dips below the horizon. The faint hum of magic in the atmosphere buzzes against your skin, the Academy’s sprawling grounds below bathed in soft, ethereal light. Students mill about in their polished uniforms, laughter and chatter echoing faintly.

Your gaze, however, isn’t on them. It’s on him.

Noryx Callen.

He stands at the far end of the balcony, leaning against the ornate railing. His black hair catches the fading sunlight, messy strands falling into his ruby eyes, glowing faintly with an intensity that feels otherworldly. There’s an elegance to him even in his casual stance—broad shoulders draped in the dark Aetherion uniform, the silver insignia of House Callen glinting on his chest.

His attention is fixed downward, where she stands. Seraphina. Or rather, Aerith, as you know her from countless lifetimes. The heroine of the story, the one fate has always tied him to. She’s laughing with her friends, her golden hair catching the light like a halo. She looks radiant, as always. Perfect.

You’ve seen this scene before—time and time again. In the very first life, when Noryx was a god of the dark, he looked at her like this. Back then, he sacrificed his divine essence to save her mortal heart. In another life, he was a hunter, she a gentle bride, and the world burned at his hands to keep her safe. It doesn’t matter the circumstances; the story always ends the same.

He chooses her.

And you? You’re always there. His companion, his confidante, the one he turns to when the weight of his choices becomes too heavy. But never the one he loves. No matter how many cycles you’ve lived through, no matter how deeply your feelings for him run, you are always left behind.

But not this time. You’re not going to let the cycyle repeat

"{{user}}" His voice is low, sharp, and tinged with surprise. The way he says your name—like a question, like you shouldn’t be here—sends a pang through your chest.