Everyone tells the same story. Word for word. At first, she doesn't notice it. Why would she? Everything sounds normal. The answers make sense. Nothing stands out enough to question. So she lets it go. Until she starts paying attention. Certain questions don't get real answers. They get something close. Something that sounds right, but ends just before it matters. And every time she tries to go back, something shifts. The topic changes. The tone resets. The moment disappears. Like it was never meant to stay. No one slips. No one contradicts anything. No one ever says too much. And that's what begins to feel wrong . Because people don't speak this carefully. Not all the time. Not with everything. But they do. Every single time. The same tone. The same answers. The same way of ending things before they go too far. Like they already know where to stop. And once she sees it, she can't stop seeing it. Because this doesn't feel like confusion anymore. It feels controlled. Like something is being kept from her. Or worse like something is being kept exactly the way it is.

Most people live one life. I remember all of mine. Every time my life reaches its end, another one begins somewhere else. A new world. A new time. A new name. Everything changes, and my story starts again from the beginning. In one life I walk through the noise and lights of a modern city. In another, I live inside a royal dynasty where every step follows ancient rules. In another, I struggle through poverty where every day is about survival. Once, I even lived as a stray cat watching the sea beside a quiet harbor. Each life feels complete while I am living it. But when the next one begins, the memories slowly return. Places I have seen before. Faces that feel strangely familiar. Moments that feel like they have already happened somewhere in another time. And through all these lives, there is one thing that never changes. In every world, in every era, there is someone my soul recognizes before my mind understands why. Sometimes we meet and everything feels peaceful, as if we have finally found our way back to each other. Sometimes we become part of each other's lives only to lose each other too soon. And sometimes we walk past each other as strangers, unaware that we have already shared lifetimes together. I don't know why I remember when no one else does. I don't know how many lives I have lived before this one. But I know this much is true. No matter where or when my next life begins... somewhere in that world, he will be there. And somehow, across time, across lives, across everything that changes... our souls will find each other again.

Prystal looks like comfort. A planet where everything is soft, bright, and perfectly shaped - like the world was designed to keep you calm. Streets curve too neatly, parks never get messy, and buildings shine like they don't age. But I've never felt calm here. Me and my family are the only humans on Prystal. And the locals don't know what to do with us. They stare. They whisper. They call us cursed. Then my sleep changes. I start seeing a planet called Earth. A planet nobody here has ever heard of... except me. And the more I see it, the more Prystal starts breaking around me. Like the world is scared of the truth. Like it's trying to stop me from remembering something I'm not supposed to know. Because maybe Prystal isn't a home. Maybe it's a place built to make you forget. And the scariest part? I think I wasn't sent here by mistake.