He didn't remember the dreams.
Not exactly.
But he remembered the feeling.
Waking up every morning with the sense that someone had just left the room.
The ache in his chest that didn't belong to this life.
The name that hovered at the edge of his thoughts — a name he never said aloud, because it didn't fit in any language he knew.
But he carried it anyway.
Like a secret.
Like a scar.
The museum was too quiet for a Saturday.
Kai Ren — no title, no throne, just a history professor with a foggy past — stood alone in front of the exhibit's final case.
He wasn't sure why he'd come. He didn't even remember hearing about the exhibit.
But the moment he saw the scroll, his hands went cold.
Third life. Final chance. Choose or be chosen.
The characters were ancient.
But he read them as easily as his own name.
And beneath the glass, barely visible to anyone else, was a pressed silver orchid, faded with time.
The characters were ancient.
But he read them as easily as his own name.
And beneath the glass, barely visible to anyone else, was a pressed silver orchid, faded with time.
He didn't blink.
He couldn't.
That night, he couldn't sleep.
He sat on the floor of his apartment, surrounded by history books, none of which had the answers he needed.
At exactly 2:03 a.m., he opened a box he'd never meant to open again — the one he kept under his bed, behind the spare journals and the letters he never sent.
Inside:
• A broken watch.
• A ribbon of white silk.
• A folded note with no name, written in a hand he didn't recognize — and yet felt like his own.
"If you remember this name, then you remember more than you should."
His throat closed.
Because suddenly… he did.
In his mind, the memories crashed like waves:
A red chamber. A girl with two names. A war that never happened. A love that never should have survived.
"Eira."
The name hit him like a bell.
Not Mei. Not Dr. Lin.
She had another name.
And in another world, she had loved him.
Across the city, Mei woke with a gasp, sitting bolt upright in bed, heart pounding.
She didn't know what had changed.
Only that something had opened.
She could feel it.
Like a thread had been pulled through time — and was pulling her toward someone.
In the quiet morning light, Kai walked the city alone. He didn't know where he was going.
But his feet moved anyway — guided by instinct, or fate, or something older.
He found himself outside the university.
The tower was still under renovation.
But someone stood at the gate.
Raincoat. Messy hair. Coffee in one hand.
A watch in the other.
She looked up.
And he stopped breathing.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, the city fell away.
No veil. No dream. No war.
Just the silence between heartbeats.
Then — slowly — she smiled.
Not the smile of a stranger.
The smile of someone who remembered.
"Took you long enough," she said.
He stepped closer, pulling the watch from his coat pocket.
Held it up.
It was ticking in time with hers.
Third life.
Final chance.
They had chosen.
But love had chosen them, too.