Zeysa

This story will be quite different from the original story so please be prepared.
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Reincarnation was the beginning. Change... was her choice.
After dying in a way even she can’t remember, a soul awakens once more—in the form of a small winged child in the holy city of Laterano. Her name is now Exusiai. But behind those wide red eyes lie memories from another world… and a determination to rewrite fate.
She knows how this story ends. She remembers the future, and it’s soaked in pain:
Mostima will be exiled.
Fiammetta will burn under the weight of law.
And Terra itself will be torn apart by war and ambition.
But this time, she’s not here to watch.
From sunny school days in Laterano to the chaotic streets of Lungmen, Exu lives her new life with a smile, a wink, and a pocket full of curiosity. She doesn’t look like a hero—and maybe she never wants to be one. But behind every quiet rebellion, every rule she bends, every friend she saves before the fall…
She’s building something.
This isn’t a story of grand prophecy. It’s the story of someone who knew what was coming—and decided to break the world, just a little, to save the people in it.
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I apologize profusely for the short chapters.
This is my first fanfic and I made it using GPT so if there are any mistakes and something that doesn't fit please forgive me.
Please add to library if it's interesting and give a good review.

Exusiai: The Fate Disruptor

The Laterano sky that evening still wore a soft hue.

A pale orange slowly melted between the towering bell columns, all standing in silence.

Exu sat at her bedroom window, legs dangling, fingers playing with the paper clip that had saved her earlier.

Her school uniform was a little wrinkled, but clean enough not to raise questions.

Below, the stone-paved yard with its potted plants lay quiet.

Lemuen was on the phone in the kitchen, voice barely audible—like someone trying not to wake the air.

Exu stared at the sky with a neutral expression.

She wasn't daydreaming—she was planning.

It was clear now that Mostima knew more than she let on.

And if that voice in the hidden room had spoken the truth, then some kind of "activation plan" involved Mostima.

The only question bigger than "who are they" was:

Why did they mention Exusiai's name?

Lemuen appeared at the door without knocking.

"Dinner's ready. I made white stew."

Exu turned quickly, then offered a small smile.

"If there's a talking mushroom in it, I'm leaving."

"No talking mushrooms," Lemuen replied flatly.

"But there is a potato shaped like your face when you wake up."

Exu laughed lightly and hopped down from the window.

She washed her hands—lingering a bit longer than necessary, lost in thought—then sat at the table.

White stew. A piece of bread. Some fruit juice from the lower market.

"So..." Lemuen began without looking at her, "Is it true your teacher got sick?"

"That's what they said," Exu answered calmly.

"You got home too early for a class that was cancelled at the end of the day."

Exu shrugged. "I got bored. Walked fast."

He sipped his stew slowly, like tasting something other than flavor.

Lemuen looked calm—but his eyes weren't easy.

He knew something was shifting in Laterano too—something that couldn't be ignored.

"There are things…" Exu said softly, as if to her spoon,

Exu swirled her spoon in the stew.

"Like... what to do if someone is hiding something really important from the people around them."

Lemuen stared at her for a long time.

Only the soft clink of metal on porcelain.

"If you thought it was important—who would you tell?"

"I don't know yet," Exu replied honestly.

"Maybe someone who wouldn't panic. Or tell me to stay out of it right away."

"Because you wouldn't stay out of it?"

"You're not an ordinary child, are you?"

"I'm not even a child," Exu muttered, just quiet enough not to be heard.

After dinner, Exu returned to her room.

But this time, she sat on the floor and opened her notebook.

A small leather one she kept hidden beneath her bookshelf.

Inside... were maps. Diagrams. Little scraps of information. Names. Dates. Red lines.

Points along the council building's halls. Notes about the vents.

Mostima's line about "the seal of the third altar."

but "seal" and "altar" had never once come up in any school textbook.

That was... something from under Laterano.

A part of the city never shown to children.

As the sun neared the horizon, Exu closed the book.

She tucked the paper clip into her pocket—not because she needed it,

but because sometimes... the smallest, dumbest things save you when no theory can.

And if they were planning to drag Mostima—or herself—into it,

then she had to be one step ahead.

And this time, there would be no noise.

Because there's no class that teaches you how to do this.

Chapter 22 – “There’s No Class for This”