The pain woke me up.
Not a poetic pain. Not a "oh no, I stubbed my soul" kind of pain.
Real pain. The kind that hits behind your eyes and wraps around your lungs like a needy octopus.
I groaned into my pillow. My body felt like it had been stepped on by a particularly judgmental horse. Every muscle ached. My skull throbbed. And for some reason, my left ankle had decided today was the day it no longer supported human life.
Then the status window popped up.
> 🕒 [Countdown: 4 Days Left]
Objective: Don't die. Seriously.
Condition: [Tired] [Sore] [Annoyed]
Suggestion: "Eat breakfast. Maybe cry a little."
"Thanks," I muttered to the glowing text floating politely in my vision like a smug sticker.
I sat up slowly. My joints popped like overcooked popcorn. I glanced at the clock. I had just enough time to limp to class.
Breakfast? Skipped.
Because nothing says "I have a death countdown" like ignoring the most important meal of the day.
Class: Spell Theory for Dummies (And Me)
I slid into my seat just before the bell. My shirt was half-tucked, my eyes half-open, and my soul integrity probably half-a-thread from breaking. Elira Thorne was already gliding across the room in her usual quiet way.
"Today's topic," she said without looking at us, "is spell instability and accidental reality tears."
Half the class perked up.
The other half quietly prepared for their eyebrows to disappear again.
I stared at the floating diagrams and tried not to pass out. My vision was swimming in slow circles. The pain hadn't gone. It had just… settled in. Like a houseguest.
Liora leaned over. "You look like death warmed over."
"I feel like death microwaved," I replied.
"You eat?"
"No."
"You sleep?"
"Kinda."
She sighed. "Come with me after class."
"Where?"
"You'll see."
"If this is how I die, I want you to know I'll haunt you with bad puns."
"Please don't."
Turns out "you'll see" meant "you're leaving the campus."
Which, for a normal student, might be a break.
For me, it was like sending a candle into a hurricane.
Nurse Vivianne met us at the gates. She was not pleased.
"You've got bruising across your ribs, your mana circulation's erratic, and you think this is the time to go outside?"
"I also have no friends," I added.
"...Fine. One hour. And I'm sending a guard."
A tall man with a bored face and a very shiny sword joined us, saying nothing.
We walked through the streets near Cyran's southern edge. It was quiet, peaceful, even warm. The buildings were stacked with magic-powered lanterns and rune-scribbled storefronts. One had a floating broom sweeping its own porch.
Our destination: a tiny café called Sip & Sigil.
They served glowing drinks with names like "Mana Mint Mocha" and "Blood Orange Firebrew." The chairs levitated slightly, so you always felt weightless.
I sat down, already exhausted.
"Why here?" I asked.
Liora pointed to the back. "Magic games."
She dragged me to a corner table covered in enchanted cards and tiny illusion pieces.
The game was called Glyph Duelers. It was part chess, part poker, and part "guess what this spell does."
Liora destroyed me within ten minutes.
"I thought you said you'd go easy," I said.
"I lied," she replied, sipping her glowing drink.
I smirked and played again.
The hour passed quickly. Too quickly.
We laughed. We played. I forgot, for a moment, that I was cursed and marked for death.
Then the guard tapped his wrist. "Time's up."
Liora stood. "Come on, ghost boy. Back to the tower."
"Right behind you."
I took one last sip of the drink. It fizzed like fire and mint and sugar.
I turned.
She was already outside.
The guard too.
I stepped out—
And everything went dark.
I woke up tied to a chair.
The room was dim, lit by candlelight.
My head throbbed. My vision blurred.
I raised my hand to the back of my scalp and touched something warm.
Pulled my fingers back.
Blood.
My blood.
It glistened red against my skin.
I froze.
Then the Echo came rushing back—
> ⚠️ [Echo of Death Fragment – Chapter 6 Replayed]
Vision: A burning room. My hands shaking. Blood in a silver bowl.
My pulse spiked.
There was no bowl. Not yet.
But the room was real.
The pain was real.
The vision… was happening.
Somewhere in the shadows, I heard footsteps.
Creaking floorboards. A hush of robes. A voice I didn't recognize whispering something in a language I didn't know.
I pulled against the ropes.
Nothing.
My stamina bar flickered.
Low. So low.
Then a face leaned in from the dark.
Hooded. Pale. Smiling.
"You weren't supposed to wake up yet."
I swallowed hard. My throat dry.
"Bad timing's kind of my thing."
He chuckled. "You weren't on the list. But now you're very interesting."
"Cool. Can I go?"
"No."
Figures.