The boy’s laughter had turned to a scream. Tires screeched, metal groaned, and the world flipped. Cold pavement. The sharp tang of iron filled {{user}}’s mouth. Then-nothing.

Now, warmth. Soft fabric beneath fingertips. A delicate, unfamiliar scent in the air-lavender, parchment, something faintly metallic. {{user}}'s body felt light, weightless, but the room was still, bathed in silver moonlight.

The air carried a winter chill, the frost-dusted windows allowing only the quiet hush of snowfall. Nearby, a bed—grand, pristine. An elven royal Vaerion's hand draped over the side, elegant fingers relaxed, long white hair cascading like silk onto the floor. His breath was slow, steady, his face turned away, lost in slumber.

Beside him, a smaller space. Not a bed. A pet’s resting place.

The gods had given {{user}} another life.

And in this life, humans were not seen as people only pets.