Chapter1;Shattered Oblivion
Blood poured relentlessly from the gaping wound in Kyle's torso. At this rate, bleeding to death was only a matter of time.
His older brother cradled him in trembling arms, apologising over and over again.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
Coward.
Kyle almost laughed.
Kieran hadn't even had the courage to face him alone. Instead, he'd staged the whole thing, convincing himself that Kyle wanted to steal his place as the Yakuza's successor simply because he excelled at almost everything.
Impulsive, he had called it.
What a joke.
Kieran knew better than anyone that Kyle hated responsibility. He would never have accepted the position—not in a hundred lifetimes. All he'd ever wanted was enough money to die rich.
So why?
Why betray him?
Why, with barely thirty minutes left before the end of his fourteenth birthday, was Kieran pressing a single hundred-dollar note into his hand while his platinum card still sat untouched in his pocket?
Kyle had always believed he was the most handsome person in the world. Yet that hadn't stopped two men from kicking him to the ground while the one with striking green eyes and snow-white hair carved an X across his torso without the slightest hesitation.
Must the world be so cruel to beautiful people?
No...
If he survived this, he'd make them pay.
His vision dimmed as Kieran's voice dissolved into the darkness.
Was this what death felt like?
Then why could he still remember every moment so clearly?
The ambush.
The dark alley.
The broken streetlights he'd dismissed as the work of vandals.
The movie Kieran had taken him to for his birthday only hours earlier.
How stupid he'd been.
They had promised their late mother they would always protect each other.
Yet this wasn't even the first time Kieran had led him to his death.
On his tenth birthday, he'd lured Kyle straight into the path of the same white-haired boy, who crushed his skull with a baseball bat while two others stood watch.
On his sixth, he'd promised to introduce him to his friends near a cliff.
The white-haired boy had been waiting there too.
One push.
Jagged rocks.
Death.
But why couldn't Kyle remember the faces of the other three?
It was as though something had shattered inside his mind, allowing fragments of forgotten memories to resurface while keeping the rest buried.
Every time he died, the year repeated.
The world adjusted around him.
His brother grew older.
He grew younger.
Again and again.
Would he wake up thirteen this time?
A strange heat spread through his body, battling an icy chill that seeped into his bones.
Dead people weren't supposed to feel feverish.
...Were they?
Voices drifted around him, distant and unintelligible.
They rose and fell for what felt like hours before exhaustion finally pulled him into darkness once more.Kyle awoke in an unfamiliar bed.
Not because it was uncomfortable, but because everything about it felt wrong. The sheets were softer than the ones he remembered, the quilt carried a faint floral scent, and the room itself was far too quiet.
Footsteps approached.
His body tensed instinctively.
Before he could react, a beautiful woman rushed over and wrapped him in a crushing embrace.
"You had your mother worried sick yesterday, Kyle. I truly thought I'd lost you." Her voice trembled with relief. "We were supposed to be celebrating your thirteenth birthday, not nursing a fever. Tell me, did you play in the rain again? I warned you you'd fall ill, didn't I?"
"Leona," another woman said with an amused sigh as she entered the room, "the poor boy has only just opened his eyes. If you hug him any tighter, he won't be able to breathe. Give him a moment."
Kyle stared at the two women in confusion.
"Thirteenth birthday?" he repeated slowly. "What... what date is it today?"
That couldn't be right.
He had celebrated his fourteenth birthday yesterday.
And more importantly...
He didn't have a mother.
At least, not one who looked like this.
His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as another horrifying realisation dawned on him.
He couldn't feel... well...
That.
His eyes widened.
He was a girl.
Again.
Had he really been lucky enough to repeat another year?
Silly child, you turned thirteen yesterday." Leona chuckled as she pinched his cheeks. "Today is the twenty-third day of the eleventh lunar month, in the nine hundred and sixty-fourth year. Has the fever muddled your head?"
Kyle forced a smile before thanking her and asking for some fresh air.
To his surprise, she agreed without protest.
The moment he stepped outside, he froze.
This wasn't a bedroom.
It was a harem.
His gaze drifted to a polished bronze mirror near the entrance.
A stranger stared back at him.
Black hair framed a youthful face with warm caramel skin and striking onyx eyes. Different... yet somehow familiar.
Ridiculously good-looking.
Kyle let out a quiet breath.
At least the universe hadn't completely betrayed him.
His hand instinctively brushed his jaw before his expression stiffened.
It wasn't just his appearance that had changed.
He remembered.
Fragments of another person's life flooded his mind like a river breaking through a dam.
A girl.
A princess forced to live as a prince.
A kingdom where princes were treasured while princesses were little more than political tools, destined for marriage or the king's harem.
A mother who had sacrificed everything to protect her daughter's secret.
A boy with no magic in a world where magic was everything.
Kyle stood silently as the memories settled into place.
So...
He hadn't travelled back in time.
He had travelled somewhere else.
The Island Empire.
He recognised the name immediately. An isolated empire of ten kingdoms where people wielded magic, yet still followed a lunar calendar despite influences from the western world.
Before he could organise his thoughts—
Something slammed into his stomach.
A sharp, burning pain exploded through his body.
Kyle looked down.
A dagger protruded from his abdomen.
