Past, Present, Future

Suddenly, a piercing ache erupted in my head. My vision blurred, and the roar of the arena faded into a distant echo. For a moment, it felt like the world around me froze. Memories—unfamiliar yet unmistakably tied to Sera Vandren—flooded my thoughts. I saw images and felt emotions that weren't mine, a life I hadn't lived. Older Sera's memories.

"Agh!" I clutched my temples, the pain intensifying as more scenes flashed before my mind's eye. Scenes of past humiliations, betrayals, and a burning desire for revenge. It was all there, laid out in agonizing detail, as if some hidden part of me had been unlocked.

Then, amid the chaos in my head, I heard my own voice—or rather, her voice.

"Don't worry, I'll save us."

A chill shot down my spine. The original Sera Vandren was there, inside me, asserting her presence. In that instant, my body jerked with a will not my own. My hand rose sharply, fire and ice coalescing with effortless grace—like I'd mastered these elements for years.

'Huh?' Even Lillian hesitated, her next attack faltering as I—no, the original Sera—effortlessly batted away her concentrated light magic. A swirl of fire nullified the bulk of the attack while shards of ice formed a protective barrier. To the watching crowd, it must have looked like a spectacular display of power. But inside me, panic churned.

"I'm going to take my revenge." Sera's voice echoed through my mind, dripping with old anger and resentment.

No, I can't let that happen! I tried to speak, to regain control, but no words would come out. My consciousness wavered as though I were sinking into deep water. I clung desperately to the surface, refusing to let the original Sera swallow me whole.

Lillian's eyes went wide, clearly stunned by the sudden shift in power. "Wow, Sera. I didn't know you could do this." Her tone teetered between admiration and caution, her green eyes narrowing as she tried to gauge my next move.

But this wasn't me. I wanted to scream, to explain that something was wrong, that I wasn't the one controlling my magic anymore. My body, moving of its own accord, summoned another wave of flames, interspersed with razor-edged ice crystals. It felt both natural and utterly foreign, like my limbs were puppets on strings pulled by someone else's vengeful spirit.

The audience erupted into cheers, enthralled by my sudden surge in skill. Yet each roar of approval twisted my stomach further. Stop, please—someone stop this!

Inside my head, Sera's voice pulsed with fury, her memories of past betrayals and humiliations fueling her relentless need for revenge. I'll show them what it means to cross Sera Vandren, she seemed to be saying, though no words formed in the physical world.

My vision blurred again, the edges of the arena fading in and out. I fought to stay present, to keep my sense of self. I had to—if the original Sera took over entirely, who knew what damage she might do, not just to Lillian, but to everyone around us?

"Sera…?" Lillian's voice wavered slightly, as if she sensed the change in my demeanor. She steadied herself, light magic swirling around her fingertips in a defensive stance.

I tried to speak—tried to say this isn't me—but all that escaped my lips was a ragged exhale. My body prepared to launch another assault, magic crackling at my palms.

In that moment, everything slowed: Lillian, rallying her defenses; the crowd, on the edge of their seats; and me, trapped in my own mind, fighting for the faintest shred of control. Don't let go, don't let go…

Somewhere in the stands, I thought I glimpsed a flash of concern on Evelyn's face—or maybe it was Camille's or Tessa's. It was impossible to be sure. My thoughts were spinning too fast, drowned out by older Sera's hateful mantra.

The air crackled with ice and flame, and I realized with a cold sense of impending dread that the next strike would be devastating. If the original Sera unleashed all of her pent-up rage here and now, Lillian would be in real danger.

Yet I felt powerless to stop it. My body lurched forward with a burst of speed that defied my conscious will, tackling Lillian to the ground. Even as I collided with her, pinning her against the arena floor, it was like observing myself in third person—my eyes saw it happen, but I wasn't the one in control.

"Sera?" Lillian gasped, her voice still laced with concern. She gathered a concentrated orb of light in her hand, struggling to defend herself from an attack she sensed wasn't really mine.

But in that moment, someone else moved my arm. Someone else conjured a swirl of scorching fire mixed with razor-sharp shards of ice at my fingertips—an attack so potent it made the air hum with tension. If that blast landed at such close range, even someone as powerful as Lillian might be seriously hurt.

No, I can't… I won't let you do this. My mind raged against the invisible chains of older Sera's influence, grappling for control. I had to stop this. Summoning every ounce of will left, I forced my consciousness to clamp down on the roiling magic swirling in my arm.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then a jolt of blinding pain shot through my head, as though I'd torn apart an unseen tether. The combined fire-and-ice energy sputtered out, vanishing in a flurry of embers and snowflakes. I staggered backward, the impact sending me crashing to one knee. My lungs seized, desperate for air.

The roar of the crowd softened to a distant rumble as my senses swam. The angry echoes of older Sera's voice receded into the back of my mind, leaving behind a crushing headache and a gaping sense of dread.

When the ringing in my ears cleared just enough, I looked up to see Lillian already back on her feet, several paces away. Concern etched her elegant features, and her pastel-pink hair fanned out behind her in the gentle breeze.

"Sera?" she called softly, her tone a delicate blend of caution and compassion. It was the voice of someone who saw my struggle and wanted to help—but didn't know how.

I forced a shaky exhale, my lungs burning. "My head…" I rasped, my voice raw but finally my own again.

But the reprieve was short-lived. A wave of dizziness crashed over me, and the edges of my vision fuzzed into darkness. My arms gave out beneath me, and I dimly felt the cold, hard ground of the arena floor before everything went black.

Dimly, as though from a great distance, I heard voices calling my name—Lillian's, Claire's, perhaps even Camille's. There were hurried footsteps and a flurry of panicked murmurs. I tried to open my eyes or lift a hand, but my body refused to obey. The world had slipped beyond my grasp.

Yet somewhere in that inky void, I sensed a familiar presence—my own consciousness, fiercely clinging to the faintest spark of control. The older Sera's rage echoed one last time, then dissolved into the silence of unconsciousness.

Not now… not yet… my thoughts whispered, though I couldn't be sure if they were truly mine or an echo of older Sera's. Either way, the fight was over—for now. But what would happen when I woke up? Would I still be me, or would older Sera's will prevail?

Those questions lingered in the darkness. As the noise of the arena faded into nothingness, a swirl of relief and fear warred within me—relief that I'd halted what could have been an irreversible tragedy, and fear of what the original Sera Vandren might do if I failed to keep her at bay in the future.

My thoughts drifted, hazy and unfocused, trying to piece together the fragments of what had just transpired. How had I lost control so completely? Was there something deeper in the novel that I didn't know about, some hidden plot device or dark truth that had triggered this sudden takeover?

My transmigration…

It struck me then, with a force that felt like a punch to the gut. I was the anomaly—the wild card who never should have been here. Because of my existence, the events and characters in this world were morphing in ways the original story never intended. They weren't just predetermined roles on a page anymore; they were real people, with hearts and minds of their own. And real people could change—even Lillian, Diana, Camille, and me.

A ripple of unease coursed through my fading consciousness, followed by a flicker of resolve. If my presence had already altered the course of the novel, who was to say how much more it could derail? Or, conversely, how much good I could do, if I chose to fight for it?

Only time will tell, I thought, hovering on the edge of oblivion. My grip on myself felt tenuous, as though a single misstep could allow the original Sera to seize control again. Even as my mind slipped further into unconsciousness, I clung to the sliver of determination burning in my chest.

Please let me hold on…

That was my final plea as the darkness swept in. A numb weight pressed down on me, and I sank into it with a shuddering breath. Somewhere far off, I thought I heard voices—urgent, frantic, full of concern. But the hush of oblivion swallowed them, too.

And in that silent void, I found an odd kind of clarity.

Nothing in this world was set in stone. I'd proven that simply by existing. My tenuous hold on my identity, on the delicate threads of friendship I'd woven, and on the dangerous potential of Sera Vandren's unbridled power—all of it would be tested when light inevitably returned.

With that thought, consciousness slipped away, leaving only a faint ember of resolve in the darkness… and the lingering echo of the original Sera's presence, waiting for the next opportunity to break free.