Sarn’s eyes fluttered open, only to shut again as the lights felt much harsher than they actually were. Every sound felt like it was coming from a malfunctioning radio. Her body felt heavy, almost paralyzed. The pce didn’t seem familiar, but her mind didn’t even bother trying—too numb to care. Yet, an unknown heavy feeling of loss and failure pressed down on her chest. Nothing made sense. Nothing. Her eyes squeezed under the intense ray.

  Her brain felt heavy—overloaded and aching. She had temporarily forgotten those disastrous events. “Where is this?” her mind raced. “What happened? What’s this pce?” These questions came repeatedly. She remembered a few glimpses—her pinned legs, bruised hands. But after that? She couldn’t recall anything. It was like a dream passing for reality.

  “So, you’re the one who was left behind.” “You’re the coward.”

  These harsh truths surfaced as her consciousness slowly returned, though the figure saying those words remained blurry. Her skin kept sweating while facing them. She tried to move, to open her fists, but couldn’t. She didn’t want to live that dream. She had to escape from it. She gasped to wake up. Finally, she could open her eyes fully under the lights, but it felt as though she had pulled a 400-kg weight—she was exhausted. She could finally recall what happened, connecting pieces one by one. She was in a battle. She couldn’t call for help then, and so on. She had assumed death was near. Then where was it now?

  As she tried to speak, her mouth wouldn’t open. It seemed like blood had clotted over her lips, just like before. But she needed answers. She pushed past the inertia with a cracked voice, “Is this heaven or hell?”

  Sophy had been keeping an eye on Sarn this whole time, in case anything went wrong. Seeing Sarn regain consciousness, she rexed her shoulders with relief. “Seems like everything is fine,” she thought. Since it felt necessary to answer Sarn’s useless question, she replied—calm and direct—“It’s Earth.”

  Sarn’s eyes widened. That didn’t lessen her curiosity—it only intensified it. She remembered she was injured. Nearly dying. But then what happened? That question made her head heavier.

  “Wasn’t I injured? My legs…”

  Her legs… they were healed. As she could barely lift her hand, she tried to run it across her body, feeling for the injuries that should have been there. But there was no feeling yet. She couldn’t understand. She breathed hard. “Was it a nightmare?” she muttered under her breath.

  With some relief, her gaze shifted toward the figure standing before her, dressed in white. A stranger. Sarn blinked, trying to make sense of her surroundings, her mind still clouded with disbelief. She lifted her head to see the woman’s face, but it didn’t seem familiar. Still, she hoped to get the questions in her mind answered by this stranger.

  Sophy, standing stoically in front of her, looked at Sarn with an expression somewhere between irritation and concern. “You’re troublesome,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  Sarn’s eyes widened in disbelief, still trying to piece together what was happening. She had never seen this woman before. Everything was a blur. “Wha… What happened?” she asked, her voice shaky, still collecting fragments of memory.

  Sophy let out a small sigh, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched Sarn’s confusion. “Let me tell you what happened.” Sophy moved closer to Sarn, her voice low and serious, making sure no one overheard their conversation. Sarn straightened her spine, slowly getting up to sit properly.

  Sophy said, almost whispering, “You have to keep this a secret—everything I’m about to tell you. Can you do that?”

  Sarn looked at her, confused but nodding slowly. She had nothing else to do but listen. Sophy’s gaze softened slightly, though the urgency remained. “Don’t tell anyone. You can’t let anyone get close to what’s inside you. Understand?”

  .........

  After hearing everything, Sarn’s eyes widened in disbelief. “But how? How can this be?”

  Sophy’s face remained tight, her voice a little more strained. “I can’t expin everything right now. Just know that the celestial inside you puts people like Liam and Rowan at risk if anyone knows too much. You need to keep it to yourself—for their safety.”

  Even in her disbelief, Sarn felt the weight of Sophy’s words, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Just how things wrapped up this way? That was definitely something one can’t even imagine. But since a stranger, a medic, was telling these, there was a 2% chance of these being false. Accepting the vague truth, for the first time it felt like the burden of what she carried wasn’t just her own. If true, it was a dangerous secret, and keeping it hidden was now a matter of life and death.

  Once again, she had become a burden for others—a nuisance.

  Sophy’s face was as straight as ever. “You realize how much trouble you caused? You shouldn’t have joined in the first pce.”

  Sarn hadn’t finished cursing herself, but Sophy’s words nded like salt on an open wound, even when the truths seemed vague to her. Sophy continued, as if that wasn’t enough already, “I said that straight to your face because I can’t coddle you like others do.”

  Sarn didn’t meet her gaze. She kept looking down the entire time. Her words nded right on her chest, like a dull bde—cutting unevenly. She came back to life only to be bmed, again. She couldn’t deny those facts. But still, she couldn’t help feeling anger at Sophy. Sophy left the room, taking a box with her.

  It wasn’t like Sarn hadn’t faced this kind of shame or guilt before. It couldn’t break her anew—because she was already broken, like a trained muscle that's been used to strain. But the words still stung so deeply, the pain made her cover her face.

  While Sophy was passing by the window, checking if she had forgotten something, she saw Sarn covering her face. She blinked, paused. Maybe some sympathy stirred in her. Maybe she felt that the weight she had pced on Sarn was crushing her from within. Was it necessary to say all of that?

  But she didn’t have time to dwell on it—she kept walking.

  Saryntha remained sitting on her hospital bed. The pain of being a weight on others outweighed her physical pain. All she could think of was what had happened, how shameful it had been. There was more to come, if she didn’t get selected.

  Her mind raced for a shred of hope. “Will they not count what I’ve gone through? What I tried? Maybe they will. Or maybe not. It was my fault for being distracted. Why am I so dumb? My dumbness always ends in tragedy. It annoys others, makes me someone to be angry at. I’m too scared to face anyone. They’ll be mad at me. I don’t bme them.”

  No sooner had Sophy gone than Rowan entered. The sounds of his boots tapping against the floor felt much clearer.

  Sarn looked up to see who it was. It was Rowan. “Another one to hear truths from, as if I’m not already tired of myself,” she thought bitterly.

  Sarn quickly averted her eyes from him. She didn’t know how to face him. For now, avoiding his gaze felt like the only option. Rowan, coming closer to the bed, took a long breath. “You may have heard it all.”

  Sarn didn’t respond, but inside, the accusation gnawed at her. Her posture said it all—slumped forward, spine low. But that didn’t stop Rowan from speaking further, even though his jaw seemed like it wanted to cmp shut. He forced the words out—it had to be said.

  “You failed one of the easiest and most important events. Because of that, there’s uncertainty about your selection,” Rowan said it pinly.

  She already knew that. But hearing it out loud made it feel ten times worse. As Rowan turned to leave, he added, “I can’t do anything about that.”

  Sarn finally looked up, toward where he’d gone. “Is that what he came to tell?” The question slipped from her heart, even though she hadn’t wanted it to. What more could she expect? Care for a loser? Why would they care? She just dragged her trouble onto them.

  She hadn’t expected him to do something for her, but saying it out loud? It was meant to hurt. She remained sitting, hardened.

  But— “You're just as pathetic as dead weight.”

  This sudden voice made Sarn jump. She looked around. Where was this voice coming from?

  “You are just as good as dead.”

  The voice came from inside. From her heart. She touched her chest, trying to feel, “Is this real?”

  Then, everything in sight began fading into a void, colored in bck—like ink spreading across a page.

  Sarn found herself standing in the void, wearing the school’s uniform.

  Her lips parted in wonder. Before her, the celestial appeared—approaching with the same aura she’d felt the first time they met.

  Sounding horrific and cold, “You’re inside my soul now,” the celestial smirked.