The dawn came quietly, soft light filtering through the woven bamboo walls of the hut. The village was already stirring — the faint smell of rice cooking, the gentle chatter of children. But Samreth wasn't awake to any of it.
He sat outside, staring at the mist rising from the jungle, lost somewhere between past and future. His head throbbed. His chest felt heavy, like two realities were pressing against each other, fighting for space inside him.
Last night's words still echoed in his mind — Sophea's voice trembling, "I can't lose you again"
But as he closed his eyes, another voice slipped through — softer, distant, and achingly familiar.
"Samreth… wake up…"
He froze. It was a woman's voice — not Sophea's.His mother.
It came like a whisper through time.Then his father's voice followed, faint but urgent, "Son please you have to come back"
The air around him shimmered. The world blurred for a heartbeat. For a second, he wasn't in the jungle — he was standing in a bright white hospital room. Machines beeping. His parents standing by his bed. His body motionless.
Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone.
He gasped and clutched his head, breathing hard.Sophea rushed out, kneeling beside him. "Samreth? What's wrong?"
"I… I heard them," he whispered. "My parents. They're calling me."
Sophea looked at him in confusion. "You mean… from your time?"
He nodded, trembling. "They're trying to wake me up. But I'm still here. I can feel both — this world and theirs. It's like I'm trapped between them."
Sophea touched his shoulder gently. "Then maybe you're not just here to change the past," she said softly. "Maybe you're fighting to stay alive in both."
He looked at her, her face calm yet filled with worry. The connection between them felt even stronger now — not just love, but destiny weaving through time itself.
He stood slowly. "I thought I was sent here to fix something. To find answers. But every time I get close…" He swallowed hard. "Something pulls me away."
"Maybe the truth isn't ready for you yet," Sophea said.
Samreth's eyes fell to the river, where his reflection wavered like a ghost. For a moment, another face flickered over his — his own, but older, with cold eyes. Athisa's voice echoed faintly inside his mind:
"If you find the truth too soon, you'll lose the chance to change it."
He clenched his fists. "Then I have to hold on. No matter what happens."
The jungle wind rustled the trees — soft, almost like a warning. Sophea stepped closer, her hand brushing his arm. "Just promise me," she said, voice breaking, "if you ever have to leave… you'll find your way back."
He turned to her slowly. "Even if time tries to tear me apart, I'll find you."
And though neither of them could explain how or why, they both felt it — the invisible thread tying them together across lifetimes, stronger than time, stronger than death itself.
But as the morning light broke through the trees, a shadow moved beyond the village — soldiers, searching, their footsteps nearing.
The war wasn't done with them yet.