Once again, Zyel opened his eyes, seeing an unfamiliar place.
The room looked like a Victorian fever dream that got into a fight with modern technology, and somehow neither side won.
Fancy walls, obsessive detailing everywhere, like someone with too much time and too many opinions designed it.
And then just shoved in a wall-mounted TV.
A sleek, expensive-looking PC lurked in the corner like it did not belong but refused to leave.
Other bits of modern junk were scattered around, all pretending this made sense.
He found himself lying on a massive white bed, completely consumed by it.
The sheets were soft in a way that felt suspicious.
They were too soft, too clean, like they had never been touched by anything remotely human.
The blanket weighed just enough to feel intentional.
The pillow practically tried to absorb his skull.
He lifted a hand and pressed it hard against his forehead, like maybe if he applied enough force, the confusion would leak out.
It did not.
Of course it did not.
He dragged his hands down over his eyes, rough, careless, enough to sting.
His vision jittered.
In. Out. In. Out.
Like reality itself was buffering and doing a terrible job of it.
"Fix it… just fix it already…"
The words came out thin, strained, like he had said them too many times before.
And then, slowly, reluctantly, everything clicked.
The flickering stopped.
The room stopped arguing with itself.
Whatever counted as reality here stitched itself back together and held.
He just lay there, staring at the stupidly beautiful, flower-shaped chandelier glued to the center of the ceiling, like it personally offended him, then dragged out a dry, empty breath from somewhere deep in his lungs.
"Yeah… right. Of course. Why would it not be this again."
A thin, brittle laugh slipped out, barely holding together.
"This is it now, huh. My life? Wake up in some random place, either already dead or halfway there, skull feeling like it got tenderized. What a routine. Love that."
He let his head sink deeper into the ridiculously soft, almost suspiciously perfect pillow, still staring straight up like the chandelier might start talking back.
"Yeah. Real nice cycle. Absolutely thriving. Good for me. Truly."
"Aylin… you there?" he muttered, voice dry like it had been dragged across gravel.
"Do you know what happened? I remember that fucking killer. The katana. Straight through my chest. And then my vision just… flooded. Purple? Or something close to it. Then nothing. Just… gone."
[I am in the same condition as you, my master. I remember nothing after that wretched person stabbed you. I lost consciousness the exact moment you did. Our connection made sure of that. But now that we are awake… something is wrong.]
"Something is always wrong," he mumbled, barely moving his lips.
[No. Not in the usual way, my master. This is different. You seem to have changed. I can sense an enormous amount of intangible energy inside you. It moves through your veins like blood, your heart pushing it forward, and it is still increasing.]
"What does that even mean?"
[It means you are no longer human, Master.]
Silence.
It stretched, twisted, and sat heavy in the air, like it refused to leave.
Then a slow exhale.
"…Ah."
Another breath, shaky but controlled.
"I see."
His lips twitched.
Not quite a smile.
More like his face forgot what expression it was supposed to make and settled on something close enough.
The kind of smile you make when reality stops making sense and your brain just gives up trying to argue.
"There it is. That is new. Or maybe not. Who knows anymore."
A quiet laugh slipped out, soft and thin, fraying at the edges.
There was something off about it.
Something that did not sit right.
"Not human, huh… yeah. Sure. Of course. Why not. Just throw it on the pile."
He should have panicked.
He should have screamed until his throat tore itself apart.
He should have clung to whatever scraps of sanity he still had and begged them not to leave.
Instead, he just… lay there.
Staring into nothing.
Letting it sink into him like it had always been there.
Like this was just another thing his existence had been quietly waiting to become.
He accepted it.
Just like that.
"You know…" he whispered, voice hollow and stretched thin, "after everything… getting killed by a god by accident, then tossed into this life with reincarnation, divine blessings, and all that nonsense…"
He felt a strange, almost dreadful feeling of calmness overcoming him, followed by a faint, almost amused breath.
"…losing my humanity does not even crack the top of the list anymore."
"Tch, whatever... do you know what I am now? A vampire? A werewolf? Oh, being a werewolf would be cool. I get to turn into a giant wolf and run in the wilderness... I bet that would feel exhilarating," Zyel asked, quickly overcoming the fact that he was no longer human as if it were not a big deal.
[I don't know, Master... I can only say for sure that you are no longer human.]
"Oh..." Zyel exclaimed, slightly disappointed.
[Sorry for being such a disappointment, Master. I'm so useless.]
"Oh, don't worry about it… you're not useless or a disappointment. I'm just a bit surprised you didn't know. Since you were sent to assist me by God, I assumed you'd know more."
[I was created to assist you with matters regarding the blessings, Master. I don't have knowledge about other things. Also, Master, I'm the same age as you physically are, so I don't have any more experience than you do.]
"Yeah, I have been meaning to ask, what exactly are you? I'm just curious to understand your existence."
[Master, I'm a spirit. Master, I'm your own spirit. My existence resides within your soul, and I myself am like an extension of your soul.]
"So you and I are one?"
[Not exactly, Master.]
[I am separate from you, even if I originate from your soul. Think of it like... connected, but not duplicated. Only a small portion overlaps, just enough to feel the same.]
[If someone with supernatural perception tried to sense us, they would only detect you, not me as a separate entity.]
[I also have a set of abilities that I had when I came into existence, and most of them are related to managing the divine blessings you possess to regulate them. But I also have the ability to learn, and since I'm a spirit, I can make contact with other spirit-like things that exist in the spiritual plane.]
Zyel blinked. "Yeah, no, you're definitely not useless... Not even a little bit."
If anything, she sounded like the kind of existence that would become absolutely terrifyingly helpful later.
The kind you don't fully appreciate until everything is on fire, and then suddenly she is the reason you are still alive.
And then...
Something felt... off.
No, not off, just something strange that he had not felt before.
Something like a pull.
Not physical.
Not something he could see or touch.
No weight, no shape, nothing his senses should have been able to grab onto, and yet it was there, and it was real, undeniably real.
It was like something invisible had hooked onto him like a thread.
No, much more than a thread... more like a powerful, intense connection.
And that connection was pulling him, or maybe... pulling toward him.
Like two magnets that had already decided they belonged together and were now aggressively closing the distance whether anyone liked it or not.
"What... is this feeling..."
His eyes narrowed as the sensation intensified rapidly, almost impatiently.
Whatever it was, it was getting closer fast.
Too fast.
His heartbeat started climbing, each thump louder than the last, syncing with that strange invisible tether tightening between him and... something.
Something important.
Something that felt like it would make him complete.
Like whatever was rushing toward him was the missing piece.
The thing that would snap into place and suddenly make everything make sense.
Make him whole, make him happy.
And that thought alone made his chest tighten even more.
The wooden door didn't just open, it practically snapped apart the silence as it swung wide, and someone stepped in like they owned the moment.
Zyel's eyes widened. Not shock. Not surprise. Something worse. Awe. Pure, dizzying awe at the woman who had just walked in.
Calling her beautiful felt wrong, like trying to measure the ocean with a cup, like the word itself was too small, too pathetic to hold what he was seeing.
She was tall and slim, her long, curly dark purple hair spilling everywhere in soft chaos, strands falling over her face like they had no intention of behaving.
Those messy fringes half-covered her cheeks and ears, teasing glimpses of pale skin that looked almost unreal, too smooth, too perfect.
Her skin was spotless.
Not a mark, not a flaw, just that eerie, clean whiteness that made her look less like a person and more like something carefully crafted.
And her eyes, God, her eyes, glowing red, like distant lights in the dark, like rubies staring back with a quiet, burning intensity.
She wore black pajamas, loose, oversized, almost careless.
But it didn't hide anything, not really.
Zyel could feel it, the shape beneath, the fullness, the softness, the curves pressing against the fabric like they were waiting to be acknowledged.
Her breasts, more than generous, dangerously so, the kind of softness that could swallow a person whole and make them forget why they ever wanted to breathe.
And her legs, smooth, long, inviting in a way that felt like a trap you would gladly walk into.
She tilted her head slightly, like she was confused to see him awake.
Just for a second.
Then it changed.
Her smile stretched wide, too wide, something slipping loose behind it.
Not just happiness.
No, this was something sharper, something unhinged.
Like she had just found something rare, something impossible.
Like she had been searching forever and suddenly, finally, there he was.
If obsession had a face, if it could twist itself into a grin, it would look exactly like that.
And then she moved.
Fast. Too fast.
One second she was across the room, the next she was on him, crashing into him with reckless force, wrapping herself around him in a tight, suffocating embrace.
A gentle, comforting hold that could not be escaped.
She pulled him in, pressing his face deep into her chest, holding him there like she was afraid he might dissolve if she loosened her grip even a little.
"My sweet, absurdly handsome, disastrously beloved Zyel… you're awake. You're actually awake," she breathed, like she had been holding that sentence hostage for centuries.
Her arms locked around him tighter, not quite a cuddle anymore, more like a quiet refusal to acknowledge the concept of distance at all.
"Now we can be together. Properly. The way it was always meant to be," she whispered, words spilling quicker, warmer, sticking to him.
"Forever, Zyel. Every second, every breath, every little moment in between. You do not have to go anywhere anymore."
A soft laugh slipped out of her, a little too breathless, a little too certain.
"You will not go anywhere."
Her words slipped out faster, breathier, almost trembling with excitement.
"I am not letting you leave. Ever. Not now, not later, not in any version of anything," she said, quieter now, but sharper somehow. "You are staying. Here. With me. Always, always for all eternity of our lives ahead."
Zyel should have pulled back.
Should have asked questions, demanded answers, done something normal, something sane.
He did not.
Because something in him had already stopped resisting.
Something quiet and dangerous that leaned into her instead of away.
And worse… he did not want her to let go either.
She held him like letting go was not just impossible.
It was a concept that had never been invented in her universe.