Ivasanara

Freyah Lima knew death all too well, but waking up five hours before the apocalypse gave her a second chance. Armed with memories of the past, she races against time to prepare. Yet, when she reaches her parking lot, she finds something-or someone-that shouldn't exist.

A man stands there: silver hair, ragged clothes, and a translucent screen hovering above his head.


[Florence Plaridel

Role: Third Male Lead of the Novel Primrose
Ability: Healing and Swordmanship
Fate: Unknown]


Florence Plaridel-the half blood third prince, the unrequited lover, a skilled healer and swordsman from the last novel Freyah read before her death. In Primrose, he managed to escape before his execution due to treason, then said his farewell to the female lead, telling her he won't bother her anymore. After that, nothing was mentioned anymore about him.

But now he's here. In her world. On the eve of its destruction.

Freyah doesn't know how or why a fictional character has appeared, but one thing is certain: the apocalypse will rewrite the world, and Florence's unexplained presence could change everything.

As survival becomes a race against fate, Freyah must decide: is Florence the key to saving this world, or a sign that its ending has already begun?

The forgotten prince has returned-and with him, the rules of fate are no longer absolute.

Regressing Through the Apocalypse with the Third Male Lead

Freyah stared at him, her voice hushed in awe. "What… what is that? A skill? Magic?"

Tatay Timothy shook his head. "I don't know. But whatever it is, it's useful. With this power, I can store food and supplies, which could save lives." He grinned at her but quickly added, "But this could also attract trouble. So, Freyah, promise me you'll keep this a secret."

"I will," Freyah said with a reassuring smile, still marveling at the phenomenon. This was her first encounter of skills.

Her gaze shifted between Timothy's hand and the burger. Then, she glanced at Cherylle, lying on the bed. "That kind of food is probably a luxury now. Honestly, I'm a little jealous," she said with a light laugh.

Timothy joined in her laughter, and for a brief moment, the gloom of the apocalypse seemed to lift.

Chapter 18 Nightmare 2.2