It was like floating. He couldn't feel anything, couldn't hear anything, except for the resonating hum vibrating through everything. Everything felt tranquil.
It was like being in deep space. But then, a small white light—so thin Ash had to squint to see it—flickered into view. At first, it shimmered faintly, then slowly began to take the shape of something.
What Ash could see then was long, silver hair, flowing as if suspended in water. Pale, shimmering skin that looked almost unreal, and molten silver eyes.
He couldn't stop staring at the enchanting figure floating around him. And then, in the blink of an eye, it started disappearing—as if something were pulling it away. Ash tried with all his might to reach for it.
But then, he heard a faint, melodic whisper.
"I'll come for you... I'll be your eclipse. Wait for me."
And then the light vanished. He looked around at the now-dark, bottomless abyss he was floating in—until something pulled him.
The force was so strong he couldn't move or think, not until he felt a warm, soft presence.
It was like someone dumped an ice bucket on his face.
Ash woke up, gasping for air. When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling.
He looked around the room and... it was so white. From the paint, to the curtains fluttering in the wind, to the soft white sheets and pillows.
His head pounded so hard he wanted to slam it against the nearest wall. But before he got the chance—
"Ohh hello! I thought you were going to wake up in December. I'm System 45. You're really lucky to be with me! It's going to be—"
The robotic voice, coming from nowhere, kept yapping, shocking Ash.
"What the hell?" He stood up, glaring around the room, trying to find the source of the bizarre voice. Then his hand touched his chest.
There was no wound. He should've had a burnt hole. But instead, he was wearing a clean white shirt.
Why the fuck is everything white... he thought, frowning. It reminded him of angels—who always looked and acted pure, but were nothing but little devils.
And then, suddenly, a face came to mind: silver eyes, white shimmering hair like freshly fallen snow.
But how could he still be thinking of him... when he'd killed him?
Ash chuckled bitterly, his eyes dimming.
But how the fuck is he still alive?
The same female robotic voice echoed through his ears.
"Well, you're not you right now. You're in Adrian's body—for the meantime, Host," System 45 said, and Ash's frown deepened.
"Adrian who?! And who the hell are you? What do you mean I'm in someone's body for the meantime? Am I dreaming? Hell, how could I even dream when I can't fucking sleep?" Ash kept ranting, causing the system to roll her eyes—annoyed.
"You've been sucked into this world. And to get out, you must save the main character. Make sure his story ends peacefully. Then you'll move to the next level," System 45 explained, and Ash blinked, confused.
"What the fuck... What if I don't want to?" he asked. The system shrugged internally. Ash couldn't see it, but he had a feeling it did.
"Well, then you die as Adrian. And disappear. But if you just go with the flow, you could finish all the missions and walk away freely," System 45 replied.
"I choose disappearing. There's really nothing for me to live for..." he muttered, eyes going distant. The system's pitiful cry stopped him from spiraling.
"QAQ... Stop making this system's life more difficult. Just go with the flow..."
Ash sighed and looked at the boring white room. Just great. One of the worst days of his life. He was killed, his sister was missing, and now he was stuck in some crazy-ass system.
Surely, luck wasn't on his side.
But if he died here as Adrian... what about his sister? Now he had a chance to live—even if it meant doing this annoying job.
His sister… she died just because she loved. And now people expected him to have a heart? Truly funny.
He couldn't die without avenging her. He wouldn't rest. That was a promise.
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again with a tired sigh.
"How should I do this?" he asked.
System 45 did a tiny dance.
"Kay~ Easy! You must prevent a tragedy. Guide them toward a peaceful ending. How you do that is up to you—choices, actions, dialogue. Everything's in your hands."
Ash sat up and narrowed his eyes at the air, like he could glare the voice into submission.
"So you're telling me I got sucked into a cursed soap opera and have to wing it with no script?"
"Nooo... the benefit is that you actually get to know the plot! Like how the main character fell into tragedy and became depressed. See? I told you this was easy," the system said cheerfully.
Ash gritted his teeth.
What part of this was easy?
If he could see this system—or touch it—he would've burned it alive. The system gulped fearfully, hearing her host's thoughts.
"Can I know the plot, then?"
"Yesss, Host! Let me download it first, then I'll send it to you!"
[Downloading Plot...]
Elian West was the kind of Alpha people envied. Tall. Strong. Sharp jawline, deep voice. Top of his class. Captain of the track team. The type of guy everyone wanted to be—or be with.
But none of that mattered to Elian. The only person who mattered was Rowan Hale, the soft-spoken Omega boy with honey-brown eyes and a nervous smile that never quite reached his eyes.
Rowan transferred in during sophomore year—fragile, shy. People whispered behind his back: "Unclaimed," "Unbonded," "Damaged goods." But Elian didn't care. Something about Rowan made the noise fade. He became Elian's calm in the chaos. His person.
They started slow. Shared glances. Notes passed under desks. Stolen moments behind the art building. Rowan smelled like autumn wind and burnt sugar. Elian would breathe him in and forget how empty he used to feel.
By senior year, they were inseparable. Everyone knew they were together. Elian even stopped wearing scent suppressants. His world was small—but perfect.
Or so he thought.
Then the whispers returned—cruel ones. Sharp, like broken glass.
"Rowan's been seeing someone else."
"Elian doesn't know, huh?"
"He's just the cover. The safe choice."
At first, Elian didn't believe it. He trusted Rowan. Loved him. Gave him everything.
So when he asked—voice trembling, fists clenched—Rowan just laughed.
"You're being paranoid, El. Don't be like that."
So Elian swallowed the doubt. Let it go. Believed him.
Until one evening, after track practice, he went to Rowan's dorm to surprise him with tickets to their favorite band.
The door wasn't locked. Rowan's scent was fresh in the air... but so was another—heavy, musky. Familiar. Elian stood frozen, staring through the cracked door.
Rowan was on the bed. Shirt off. So was the other Alpha's. They were laughing. Close. Too close.
It wasn't just sex.
It was intimacy.
Something Rowan used to give only to him.
When Elian walked away, the tickets crumpled in his fist, it felt like swallowing glass.
The next day? Rowan didn't chase him. Didn't text. Didn't explain. When they passed in the hallway, Rowan just looked away. Like he was a stranger.
The betrayal wasn't just the cheating.
It was the silence. The erasure.
Like Elian had been rewritten out of the story.
Everyone still treated him like the golden Alpha. But inside, he was breaking.
Stopped eating. Stopped sleeping. Flinched every time a scent reminded him of Rowan.
The worst part?
He still loved him.
Even after the betrayal. Even after the lies. Even after being discarded.
That's what broke him the most.
The final straw?
Rowan sent a message—casual, cold, like none of it had mattered.
"Can we not make a big deal out of this? You're better off without me."
As if Elian hadn't planned his future around him. As if the whispered I love yous were placeholders.
That night, Elian wrote a letter. No theatrics. Just simple words.
He didn't tell anyone.
He walked to the cliffs near the school—where they used to watch the stars.
The ocean roared below. Indifferent. Endless.
Ash sighed after reading it.
"So this is the tragedy you were talking about?" he asked, bored.
"How can you say that?! It's really sad! QAQ" System 45 whined, and Ash rolled his eyes.
.....
Happy reading!!