There was no warmth.
No light.
No gentle transition.
Alex simply opened her eyes.
And the world was… wrong.
The forest around her was familiar—tall pines, cold air, distant calls of beasts. She tried to sit up, but her balance felt strange. Heavy. Off.
A low growl rumbled from her throat.
"…What—?"
Her voice didn't come out.
Instead, a deep, guttural snarl tore free.
Alex froze.
She lifted her hand—
And her breath hitched.
It wasn't a hand.
It was a paw. Black fur. Claws curved like knives.
Slowly—very slowly—
she reached toward her face.
Her fingers brushed against a long muzzle.
Sharp teeth.
Coarse fur.
"I'm a… wolf…?"
The words never reached the air.
Only a rasping growl echoed between the trees.
But she didn't panic.
She didn't scream.
She had died too many times to fear something as small as a new body.
She stood, shaking off leaves caught in her dark fur, and looked around. The forest… felt familiar. As if she had walked here before—
but in a different life.
She sniffed the air and caught the scent of running water.
A river.
Her paws carried her toward it, branches cracking under her weight.
CRACK.
She froze.
Not her.
Someone else.
A figure by the river turned sharply at the sound.
Alex's heart—if this beast form even had one—nearly stopped.
It was him.
It was her.
The boy she had been.
The life she lived as Zeke.
Short blond hair.
Blue eyes.
Sword at his back.
Zeke's expression twisted into pure shock as he stared at the towering wolf standing between the trees.
Alex took a step forward without thinking.
Wait—stop—don't move—
But the wolf's body reacted instinctively:
a low, thunderous growl vibrated through the forest.
"Damn it—" Alex tried to speak.
To say It's me.
To say Don't.
But all that came out was another roar.
Zeke's hand flew to his sword.
"No—NO—!"
Alex tried to back away, but the wolf form refused. Predatory instincts flooded her limbs. Her muscles tensed. Claws dug into the soil.
Zeke didn't hesitate.
He drew his sword in a swift, perfect motion.
The same motion Alex once used.
Steel flashed.
Alex felt the cold bite of iron tear through her neck.
Her body fell one way—
Her head the other.
Her severed head hit the ground, vision still clear, staring up at Zeke—who stood there panting, unaware he had just killed a former version of himself.
Shock froze on her face.
Silence.
Then—
A laugh.
A broken, hysterical laugh bubbled up from her severed throat—
even though wolves shouldn't be able to laugh.
"Well," Alex whispered inside her own mind,
"isn't that a beautiful joke of fate…"
Darkness swallowed her.
The familiar void embraced her—
cold, infinite, unbearable.
But this time…
She was alone.
No soft glow of Seraphielle.
No judging eyes.
No disappointed sighs.
Just empty black.
Alex's rage exploded.
"COME OUT!" her voice roared, echoing endlessly in the darkness.
"You watch me die over and over and you don't even SHOW YOURSELF?!"
Her voice cracked into something feral.
"Are you amused?! Is this FUN for you?!"
Nothing answered.
The void remained still.
Silent.
Indifferent.
"DAMN YOU!" she screamed.
"DAMN ALL OF YOU!"
Still—no goddess appeared.
Only the faintest flicker…
A curl of ancient laughter from somewhere far behind her.
Not Seraphielle.
Someone older.
Darker.
Hidden.
Someone biding her time inside Alex's soul.
But Alex, consumed by rage, didn't hear it
And the void pulled her downward,
dragging her toward her next cursed life.