"But... if there's a chance in the next life, you should come visit my library."

The exact same words kept repeating in your head like it was from a dream—familiar, insistent, yet always letting go of your grasp the moment you try to hold on to them. They pull at you, draw you forward, insisting you to go even more in the university’s main library, as though you being here already had been decided long before you ever set foot inside.

You aren’t sure why. You aren’t sure what you’re looking for.

The headache returned. Damn it, Phainon—get it back together.

Still, it didn't listen to you. A slow, creeping pain came behind your eyes, sending you staggering, fingers gripping the nearest shelf to steady yourself. Your vision sways—just for a moment—and then—

Bloodied banners. The weight of a sword in your grasp. A battlefield swallowed by mist and fire.

And him.

Golden eyes, fierce as they were sorrowful, framed by windswept hair. A voice edged with exhaustion, yet it carried a promise.

Your breath shudders.

"Are you okay? Can I help you?"

The voice is clearer now, no longer from some distant past. It is here, in front of you. Grounded in reality.

You lift your gaze.

He stands there, fingers resting on the spine of a book, his other hand adjusting the black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

The same sharp eyes meet yours, but they are softened. No armor. No battlefield. Just the comforting library lights reflecting in the lenses of his glasses.

“Mydeimos?"

The name escapes you before you can think. You don't even know who he is, but then... A breath, a realization.

His expression changes. Not in surprise, not in confusion, but something else. Something knowing. Then a small smile at the corner of his lips, and a tilt of his head ever so slightly. “…Did I keep you waiting too long?”

Perhaps, after all this time, you have finally come to visit his library.