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Thunder cracked across the cursed sky.
Seraphina stood frozen, her sword trembling at her side, as her eyes locked with the Empress—her mirror. Every curve, every scar, every thread of hair was hers. The only difference was the eyes: the Empress's were old. Ancient. Worn by a thousand lives and lifetimes of sorrow and fury.
"You… you're me?" Seraphina whispered.
"No," the Empress smiled softly. "You are me. A fragment torn from time, cast into this rewritten world as punishment… or perhaps, a gift."
Seraphina's heart raced. Memories she never lived began to flicker behind her eyes—of fire, of a throne room bathed in blood, of love lost and betrayal served cold.
Vale drew his sword and stepped forward, but Seraphina raised a hand. "Wait."
"Good choice," the Empress said. "He would've died."
Vale scoffed but obeyed, his sharp eyes locked on the shadowy figure above.
Seraphina narrowed her gaze. "You wrote this world? The book?"
"I wrote the truth," the Empress corrected. "But they turned it into fiction. They changed me. Cast me as the villainess. And they made her"—her voice dropped, venomous—"the heroine."
Seraphina's stomach twisted. "The Countess's daughter…"
"Was never pure. She was the rot in gold," the Empress said coldly. "She deceived the kingdom, poisoned the mind of every man you now call your 'male leads.' She betrayed me. Slaughtered my parents. And in the end—stabbed me in the back with the same blade I used to defend this empire."
It was too much. Seraphina staggered.
A memory returned in full: Her parents, smiling… burning.
"No," she whispered.
"Yes," the Empress nodded. "Your soul is mine because it was mine to begin with. You were reborn here not to save this world, but to reclaim it."
The palace behind her began to glow with dark light, illuminating figures in the shadows—each man who once belonged to the Empress's court. Loyal. Cold. Broken. Still hers.
And among them, him—the man Seraphina had started to trust.
The loyal aide, Auren, stepped into view… and bowed.
"To my Queen. The real one."
Seraphina's breath caught. The ground trembled. Her allies stirred, confused.
"I don't understand," she whispered. "Why me?"
"Because," the Empress said, slowly descending the steps, "you're the only one strong enough to end the lie. And because in seven years, you die."
"But I've already lived two," Seraphina murmured.
"Exactly," the Empress whispered, now standing before her. "The countdown started the moment you woke up in my ruined life."
Then she reached forward, pressed her hand to Seraphina's chest—and the world shattered.
Black and white light exploded across the battlefield as Seraphina collapsed, her body shaking with power she didn't recognize—until now.
Memories. Magic. Rage. Love.
Everything the Empress had lived… rushed into her.
And the moment it stopped, Seraphina rose.
With the Empress's crown in her hands.
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