Real

The memory faded, leaving me gasping for air. My head throbbed, and my knees gave out. I crumpled to the floor, clutching at the cold stone tiles.

"Evangeline?" Cressand's voice was near, laced with concern.

"No," I muttered, shaking my head violently. "I'm not her. I'm not Evangeline."

Shanis knelt before me, her expression softer now but no less intense. "You may have forgotten, but the spell binds us all. You, me, and everyone else."

"I don't understand," I choked out, my chest tightening. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to have done."

Cressand crouched beside Shanis, his golden eyes boring into mine. "You're Evangeline Rullett, the one who helped orchestrate Maharlika's downfall. You were my closest ally."

"No," I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. "I'm not her. I'm not…"

But even as I denied it, the fragments of memory refused to fade. They clung to me, insistent and unyielding.

Shanis rose to her feet, her sharp gaze fixed on Cressand. "You need to decide quickly, Your Highness. If she truly doesn't remember, then keeping her here is dangerous—for all of us."

Cressand didn't respond immediately. He stared at me for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Then, finally, he spoke.

"She stays," he said firmly. "If there's even a chance she can break the loop, we need her."

Shanis looked unconvinced but didn't argue. "Fine," she said curtly. "But if she endangers us—"

"She won't," Cressand interrupted, his tone leaving no room for debate.

I sat there on the cold floor, my body trembling, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear. What have I gotten myself into?

For the first time since arriving in this world, I felt the weight of the story pressing down on me. This wasn't just a game or a story I had written. This was real—and I was at the center of it.