Cael woke up like someone being dragged out of deep water.
His chest rose sharply, and pain followed immediately—dull and spreading, wrapped around his ribs like a belt pulled too tight. His throat was dry. His eyelids felt heavy, as if sleep had turned into chains.
For a moment, he didn't know where he was.
Not Earth.Not the grove.Not the road.
Something in between.
The air smelled clean—woodsmoke, faint herbs, and cloth warmed by sunlight. The ground beneath him wasn't hard dirt anymore. It was softer. A blanket, maybe. Or a bedroll.
Cael blinked twice, slowly.
His vision cleared just enough for him to notice the shape sitting near him.
A girl.
She was leaning forward, elbows resting on her knees, watching him with an expression that sat somewhere between curiosity and quiet irritation—like she'd decided he was troublesome, but not worth abandoning.
Her hair was pale, almost silver, catching light in a way that didn't look human. Her eyes were bright and sharp, the color somewhere between green and gold, like a forest seen through sunlight.
And there it was.
Those ears.
Not entirely hidden. Just barely covered by her hair, like she wanted people to miss them unless they looked too closely.
Elf.
Cael's heartbeat steadied instead of spiking.
That surprised him.
He should've been alarmed. Suspicious. Afraid. He'd been attacked by bandits just hours ago. He'd crawled out of a death-zone forest barely alive. And now he was alone with a stranger in a world where weakness was an invitation for cruelty.
But his body didn't react with fear.
His mind didn't scream.
Instead… he felt quiet.
Safe, in a way he didn't understand.
The girl noticed him staring and raised an eyebrow.
"You're finally awake," she said. "I was starting to think you were going to turn into a corpse just to spite me."
Her voice was exactly what he remembered.
Not the words. Not the tone.
The sound.
Like something he'd heard in another life.
Cael swallowed, throat tight. "Where… am I?"
"Near the trade path," she answered casually. "I was heading to Asterwyn anyway. You collapsed like a complete idiot, so I brought you along."
He shifted slightly and regretted it. Pain flared through his shoulder and ribs.
The girl clicked her tongue. "Don't move too much. You're not as tough as you seem."
Cael stared at her for a second longer than necessary.
Because now his mind was catching up.
Because memory was blooming like a wound reopening.
He knew who she was.
Not just an elf.
Not just some kind traveler.
She was one of the heroines.
Not the "main heroine" of the original game—that role belonged to someone else. The chosen female protagonist, the one fate loved more than anyone.
But this elf…
She was important.
In the game, she appeared early. Bright, charming, beloved by players. She laughed easily, teased the protagonist constantly, and acted like the world couldn't hurt her.
But the game never said the full truth.
Not outright.
Not in a clean dialogue box.
The truth was hidden in side quests, in background lore, in quiet conversations that most players skipped.
And Cael remembered the hidden piece now, so clearly it almost made his stomach twist.
She wasn't a random elf.
She was royalty.
A princess.
A real one.
A high elf princess who had left her forest kingdom in disguise because the outside world treated beauty like currency and nobility like prey.
If humans didn't try to marry her for power…they tried to capture her for ransom.Or use her as leverage against her homeland.
So she hid.
She wore plain clothes. She downplayed her speech. She traveled like a normal student.
But her eyes were too refined. Her aura too clean. Her posture too controlled.
Even now, with her sitting casually, Cael could see it.
That quiet elegance that came from being raised above everyone else.
The girl crossed her arms. "Stop staring. It's creepy."
Cael blinked and realized he'd been caught.
He looked away quickly, pretending to focus on his hands.
His palms were bandaged. His cuts cleaned. Someone had wrapped his wounds properly. His shirt had been changed too, replaced by a simple spare tunic.
His fingers twitched.
The seed.
He checked instantly—subtle, careful.
Still there.
Still hidden beneath the cloth near his waist.
His chest loosened in relief.
The girl was watching him closely now, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You're weird, you know that?"
Cael kept his expression blank. "I'm injured."
"That's not what I mean." She leaned forward a little. "Normal injured people wake up confused and grateful. You woke up like you were calculating how to lie."
He didn't answer.
Because she was right.
He was calculating.
He always was.
That's what kept him alive—first on Earth, and now here.
But even as his mind stayed guarded, another part of him felt… strange.
It wasn't fear.
It wasn't suspicion.
It was something softer.
A pull.
A quiet aching in his chest that didn't match the situation at all.
Cael swallowed, forcing himself to breathe evenly.
Why am I so calm?
And worse—
Why do I feel… like I missed her?
That didn't make sense.
He'd met her minutes ago. He shouldn't feel anything like longing.
Yet the emotion sat in him like something old, like a memory that didn't belong to this timeline.
The girl sighed, as if tired of waiting for him to speak.
"Well?" she asked. "What were you doing out there? Don't tell me you got lost. Nobody gets 'lost' near Withering Grove and survives."
Cael's mouth opened slightly.
He almost told the truth.
Almost.
Then he stopped.
Because truth was dangerous.
And because the System's last warning still lingered in his mind:
Your existence has been noticed.
He lifted his gaze and met her eyes.
"I had to get stronger," Cael said quietly. "Before the academy starts."
The elf stared at him for a long second, like she was trying to decide whether she was amused or concerned.
Then her lips curved faintly.
"Academy, huh?" she murmured. "So you're a student too."
Cael didn't speak.
Because the word student sounded too gentle for what awaited him.
The academy was where monsters were made.
Where geniuses crushed the weak.
Where the best of every country gathered—and where the first real blood spilled, long before anyone called it war.
Cael's fingers tightened slightly over the blanket.
His mind flickered through the heroines he remembered.
The ones he hadn't met yet.
The ones destined to shine… or break.
And somehow, as he watched the elf in front of him, he realized something that chilled him more than the Withering Grove ever had.
This wasn't just a game world anymore.
These weren't characters.
They were people.
And the feelings twisting inside him…
They weren't from a player's attachment.
They were too real.
Too heavy.
Too familiar.
Cael lowered his eyes, voice barely above a whisper.
"…What's wrong with me?"
The elf blinked. "What?"
Cael didn't answer.
Because he didn't know how to explain it.
How could he tell her that he felt like he had been searching for her?
How could he admit that his calm wasn't bravery… it was exhaustion?
How could he confess that this strange longing in his chest felt like it came from a past he couldn't remember—
A past where he might've watched her die.
Again and again.
Cael inhaled slowly.
And in the quiet between them, he realized something frightening:
He wasn't scared of this world anymore.
He was scared of what it had already done to him.