「FIRST LIFE: WHERE EVERYTHING WENT TO HELL」
In the Solarian Empire, there were four siblings who had everything and almost—deserved none of it.
Among the four, Eliana "Lia" Javier, the youngest and only daughter, was a masterpiece of imperial spoilage. At eighteen, she had never known a "no" that lasted more than five minutes—not from her doting uncle the Emperor, and certainly not from her three brilliant, exasperated brothers.
Marcus Javier, the eldest at 27, could strategize an empire's economy and war but couldn't make his sister stop throwing tantrums.
Kaelen Javier, the second son at 24, commanded the Imperial Knights but couldn't command her to behave.
Rhys Javier, the third son at 21, managed the treasury but couldn't manage her spending.
They were orphans. Their parents—the beloved Duke and Duchess of the Northern Fortress—had died in a carriage accident attacked by monsters when Lia was only two years old. The Emperor, their father's cousin, brought them to the capital and spoiled them rotten. Especially Lia. Especially the girl who reminded him of the daughter he never had.
BAD DECISIONS
Lia saw Duke Alistair of Wykenight at a ball when she was eighteen. He was twenty-one, the most eligible bachelor and fantasized about by young noblewomen of the Solarian Empire. His long silver hair, golden eyes, and long lashes of snow clashed with his warm tan skin and sharp features. And Lia instantly knew: she must have that gem of the Western Fortress.
The Emperor, seeing a chance to tie the powerful Western Fortress dukedom to his crumbling northern one—and maybe, just maybe, make Lia grow up—arranged the marriage. Nobody asked Alistair's opinion. Nobody cared that Wykenight hated the Javier siblings on principle—they were everything wrong with the nobility: born to duty, fleeing to comfort, abandoning their people to suffer in a frozen hell while they played courtier.
The wedding was magnificent. The marriage was a tomb.
Alistair, seeing this as a duty bestowed by the Emperor, consummated their wedding for legitimacy, then went back to the Western Fortress. Leaving Lia alone. Rejected. She became more vicious. More spiteful. The brothers, already exhausted and cold to her shamelessness, became glaciers.
THE EXILE
A year later…
When the North's acting commander finally begged the throne—"Send one of the blood heirs or we all die"—the brothers saw their chance. In a private council, they voted. Three hands raised to send Lia.
The Emperor objected. Marcus said, "You left this to us, Uncle. Honor the decision."
They sent their spoiled sister to rule a fortress on the brink of collapse. Alistair didn't even come to see her off. Why would he? She was just the spoiled brat shackled to him by imperial decree.
And that is how the Northern Fortress gained their Duchess: Eliana Javier Wykenight.
THREE YEARS OF NIGHTMARE
The North wasn't a dukedom. It was a cemetery.
The lands were cursed—seasons didn't turn right, crops withered with "Void Rot," and monsters bred in the corrupted magic. Lia cried for the first month. Then she stopped. There was no one to hear her.
After seven months of lamenting, she stopped. She started trying. Really trying. She learned to hold a sword. She learned which villages could be saved and which couldn't. She stopped being "Lia the Spoiled" and became something else. Something harder. A proper Duchess of the North.
In year three, the golem horde came.
She wrote one letter. A tactical report. Not a plea. She listed their defenses (minimal), their supplies (none), their chances (zero). She sent it to the capital. To her brothers. To her husband.
No one replied.
FIRST DEATHS
Defending the crumbling wall with all her might, Lia died on the wall at dawn, her sword broken, her soldiers dead around her.
"Y-Your… Grace…" a young man called, trying to crawl to her despite his severed feet and almost out of breath. "We have failed you…" he called, sobbing. "Please… f-forgive th-this incompetent servant of yours… Y-Your Grace…"
Lia, already losing consciousness, the only answer she could give to this pitiful servant was the last drop of her tears falling down her cheek.
And her last thought… I hope I was a better leader. Sister. Daughter. And perhaps a… wife.
When the news reached the capital and the Emperor, the world of the old man who cherished his niece like his own started to crumble.
Alistair of Wykenight received the news with silence. No one knew what he felt. No one cared to ask.
After the funeral of Lia, the Emperor followed suit. Grief is a poison, and he drank it deep.
The brothers—Marcus, Kaelen, Rhys—resigned. They went north to reclaim what they had thrown away. They were brilliant men in a place that valued only survival. Marcus died in an ambush he should have foreseen. Kaelen died holding a line with perfect, useless formations. Rhys ran out of clever plans and then ran out of time.
「SECOND LIFE: WHERE THEY SCREWED UP (AGAIN!)」
They were born screaming into a modern world, memories intact. As if the universe itself was mocking them, they all became siblings again.
Same faces. Same trauma. New names, new parents—high-ranking officials in the Global Security Directorate (GSD).
Trauma. Regrets. Sorrow. Longing. Yearnings. It came knocking into them with no schedule of time.
When they were sleeping. When they were learning. Talking. Playing.
Eliana would wake up tasting frozen blood.
Marcus would keep seeing Lia's frozen corpse in his sleep.
Kaelen would end up crying in the corner from painful memories.
Rhys would make something out of the hope he had back then.
They acted like typical, chaotic siblings. Cursed at each other. Troublemaker teenagers.
They all had their memories. They all knew they were siblings in their past lives.
But they never spoke of it. Never of the North. Never of the wall. Never of their deaths.
They became what they knew: SOLDIERS.
Marcus became an intel agent—cold, observant, a ghost in every crime empire.
Kaelen joined the army—a brilliant, terrifying commander who led wars in oppressed countries into victory.
Rhys joined special forces Research & Development—a mad scientist with a security clearance.
Eliana joined black ops—a Captain of Cleanup and Assault teams. A soldier and assassin.
They were all golden gems of the GSD, a medal their parents wore around with heads held high.
Their parents died in a plane crash when they were on their way to an assembly meeting.
And during that time, they were all at the age when they died.
At their parents' funeral, they stood like normal people.
"How was being a rat?" Lia to Marcus.
"Very fine, better than being both assassin and soldier," Marcus.
"At least being a soldier is something to be proud of, instead of a rat lurking around," Kaelen.
"You're all lame. All you do is kill. What's so good about that?" Rhys, feeling bored.
"Shut up, you crazy bastard," Lia, Marcus, and Kaelen.
After that bantering, they split up their ways.
They never wept tears for those two who became their parents for more than two decades.
SECOND DEATHS (ARE YOU SERIOUS?!)
They died a week later in separate, statistically impossible plane crashes. The universe had a cheap sense of symmetry.
As the cabins tore apart, they each thought the same thing: We should have talked. We could have fixed this.
Too late. Again.
COSMIC WAITING ROOM – WHERE THEY MET THE SYSTEM ADMINISTRATORS
Two shimmering entities floated before them. They looked like annoyed IT administrators.
The siblings were confused, standing in the white room facing these unfamiliar beings.
"Pathetic," said Admin A.
"Spectacularly incompetent," agreed Admin B. "Two lives. Two chances. You failed the family dynamic so hard it's creating metaphysical lag."
"I have a question," Marcus interrupted, his analytical mind cutting through the shock. "Does this mean we all had recollection of our past lives?"
"That's right, you idiots," said B, the light pulsing with irritation. "All four of you. The whole time. And none of you said a damned word."
"Your regret is clogging the system," said A. "We're sending you back. With tools. Because you clearly need them."
"A System," said B. "HUD. Party chat. Inventory. The works. Think of it as training wheels for basic human connection."
"You're going back to the time Eliana is on her way to the North," said A. "Maybe this time use your brains, you smart idiots."
"One rule," B's light flickered dangerously. "USE THE DAMN CHAT FUNCTION. Or we're deleting your save files. Permanently."
Before the siblings could react, the two snickering, mocking Admins pushed them with an unknown force, and their consciousnesses all drifted into a white, blinding one.
「THIRD AND LAST CHANCE!」
Eliana woke to the smell of her own expensive perfume and the sway of a prison carriage.
Silk gown. The sunlight seeping through the windows. The certain knowledge she was being shipped to her death.
Memories crashed in—the wall, the snow, the silence, the planes, the glowing assholes.
[SYSTEM: ONLINE]
[USER: ELIANA JAVIER – CONFIRMED]
[PARTY LINK: ESTABLISHING...]
[LOCATION: IMPERIAL ROAD, EN ROUTE TO TELEPORT TEMPLE]
[ADMINS NOTE: DON'T FUCK THIS UP.]
The psychic channel exploded.
MARCUS: Lia?!
KAELEN: I'm coming to get you—
RHYS: If we commandeer gryphons from the royal mews we could—
Eliana leaned back. She could feel their panic, their guilt, their stupid, desperate love vibrating through the link. Centuries of silence, broken by cosmic IT beings who were sick of their drama.
She opened the line.
"Can you all shut the fuck up?"
— To Be Continued… —