Chapter 1 —
Arc 1: The Fractured Future — Year 1340, Kingdom of Ephyra
I didn't wake up screaming.
Which, looking back, feels like a missed opportunity. Because if there's ever a time to scream, it's when you wake up in a bed that looks like it belongs in a period drama and your pajamas have turned into medieval sleepwear.
Instead, I just stared at the ceiling, blinking, trying to convince myself that the faint scent of lavender and wood polish wasn't real.
That I hadn't actually traded my broken apartment ceiling for carved oak panels and embroidered curtains.
Then the memories hit.
Not mine — hers.
Sword drills. Etiquette lessons. Her father's voice: "A Ventis does not falter."
And, most importantly, the chilling line that made my stomach drop:
Liora Ventis. Died Chapter 23 — "Sacrifice at North Gate."
I sat up so fast I nearly fell out of bed. "Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. I'm not doing this again—"
[Good morning, Liora Ventis.]
[Emotional stability: 42%. Suggest caffeine or prayer.]
"WHAT—"
I nearly yeeted the nonexistent voice out the window. "System? Interface? Ghost?!"
[Designation confirmed: Fate Progression Interface. Tasked with monitoring narrative deviation and survival metrics.]
"Okay," I said slowly. "So… I've lost my mind."
[Correction: You've lost your mortality privileges.]
I blinked. "...Excuse me?"
[Reincarnated entity. Host: Aria Lysander. Assigned role: Liora Ventis.]
[Objective: Survive predetermined fate.]
I dragged my hands down my face. "Of all the things I could've been reincarnated into, it had to be the girl who dies for character development?"
[Affirmative.]
"Oh, you didn't even hesitate."
[Efficiency is key.]
I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head. "Wake me up when this is over."
[Unable to comply. You are, unfortunately, the protagonist of your own misery.]
My muffled scream probably startled the ancestors.
After a full thirty seconds of mental breakdown under the blanket, I peeked out.
"Okay. Let's be rational. This is fine. I'll just… stay in my room. Avoid anything resembling plot. Easy."
[Reminder: The plot begins today.]
"...You're joking."
[You have breakfast with Lord Ventis in approximately fifteen minutes. He will mention the Mage Delegation's arrival.]
I stared at the invisible text floating in the air. "You mean the same delegation that includes Kieran Rael? The other person fated to die?"
[Affirmative. Warning: interaction probability — 92%.]
I threw my pillow. "WHY is this universe speedrunning my trauma?!"
[Sarcasm detected.]
[Mood stabilization: ineffective.]
A knock on the door cut through my spiral.
"Lady Liora? Are you awake?"
It was a maid — auburn hair, neat braid, the same one from the prologue. She peeked in, smiling. "Your father awaits in the east dining room."
"Uh— right! Totally!" I said, standing too fast and nearly tripping on the hem of my dress.
"Just… adjusting to the morning air!"
"...You're indoors, my lady."
"Exactly! So fresh!"
Her eyebrows twitched, but she said nothing. Saints bless her patience.
After she left, I looked down at myself — lace cuffs, a nightgown so expensive it probably had its own insurance policy, and hair that shimmered in the morning light like it came with a beauty filter.
"Okay, Aria. You're in a fantasy world. You're gorgeous. You're doomed. But you can work with this."
[Reminder: Survival Index — 8%.]
"Shut UP."
The Ventis Estate was absurdly large — all high ceilings, polished floors, and paintings of ancestors who looked like they judged for a hobby. Servants bowed as I walked past, and I tried not to make eye contact because I was one awkward blink away from exposing my identity crisis.
The dining hall was worse — long table, three forks, five cups, and my "father," Lord Ventis, sitting like a man who owned both the land and the air above it.
"Liora," he greeted. His voice carried that distinct noble tone that could make "good morning" sound like "don't embarrass the family."
"Good morning, Father," I said carefully, mimicking what Liora would say — because apparently the world rejects anomalies.
He nodded approvingly. "The Mage Delegation from the capital arrives within the week. You'll attend the reception banquet."
My stomach dropped. "Banquet?"
"Yes," he said, unaware that my soul had left my body. "Their envoy, Lord Kieran Rael, is said to be the youngest graduate of the Arcana Academy in history. It will be... politically wise to remain cordial."
Cordial. Right. With the guy destined to die horribly in Chapter 76.
"Of course," I said with a smile that could hide a scream. "Nothing says diplomacy like meeting my future trauma."
[Sarcasm detected. Adjusting facial expression to "noble grace."]
"Wait—what—?"
I felt my lips twitch into a perfect polite smile. "Oh, no. No no no. You do not control my face!"
[Correction: Minor emotional regulation assist. You looked constipated.]
"EXCUSE ME?!"
My father raised an eyebrow. "Is something the matter, Liora?"
"No! Just... indigestion!" I blurted. "From all the... destiny!"
He blinked. "From the... what?"
[Recommendation: Stop talking.]
I coughed awkwardly. "Bread. Destiny-shaped bread. It's a—metaphor."
My father exhaled slowly, the universal sigh of a man regretting parenthood. "I see."
Great. Day one, and I'd already convinced him I was concussed.
Back in my room, I collapsed face-first on the bed and screamed into the pillow.
"I'm going to die. In twenty-three chapters. To save a guy I've never met."
[Correction: You will meet him next chapter.]
"Oh good. Early suffering. Love that pacing."
[Optional Objective: Break one plot event before Chapter 10.]
[Reward: +5% survival rate.]
"Break a plot event? Like, what—trip someone, spill wine, start a scandal?"
[Acceptable deviations include: public embarrassment, emotional rewrites, or minor chaos.]
My eyes widened. "Minor chaos?"
[Affirmative. Controlled chaos statistically increases deviation points.]
I grinned. "So you're telling me... my best chance of survival is being unhinged?"
[Simplified interpretation: yes.]
"...Finally, a system that understands me."
I looked out the window at the sun rising over the Ventis estate. Servants moved like clockwork below, knights trained in the yard, and somewhere out there, a certain mage was probably setting something on fire with style.
Maybe fate had written me off as a doomed side character.
But I wasn't about to die quietly for someone else's story.
"Alright, Kieran Rael," I muttered, "if we're both fated to die— then congratulations. You just got yourself a chaotic co-conspirator."
[Objective Updated: Survive fate, defy logic, and maybe break the narrative.]
"Add: embarrass destiny for fun," I said.
[Noted.]
And as the text flickered out of sight, I couldn't help but laugh.
Because maybe this time, for once, the side character was going to steal the story.
Chapter 1 End.