Blood filled the courtyard like a slaughter Yard.
Celestelle knelt at the front of the burning courtyard which was covered in flames, her hands trembled out of fear and regret, as she held the body of her brother. His finger twitched, then stop moving. The warmth on her hands, turned cold. Her heart felt heavier, than the sword at her back.
Fire's crackled in the hands of the people for her pains.
Familiar faces.
Faces she had trusted—faces she had loved.
Her breathing came out fast, as she gasped for air, her eyes closing.
She looked up one last time, fixing her eyes at the platform where her parents' heads had just rolled out, like nothing minutes ago. The banner that identified their position and status ripped off In Mockery.
A sad smile formed on her lips.
"If I get the chance…" she gasped slowly, each word came out with struggle and willpower, "…I would come back. I'll haunt you... again and again… until you've paid for every crime."
Then—darkness.
---
Her fingers twitched. Then the scent of medicine and disinfectant hit her first.
Her eyelids opened slightly, to a white ceiling and flickering light. She Shivered slightly from the sudden air––which only blew peace, no heat or pain.
Her fingers moved.
Wasn't she dead?
But this wasn't her body.
It was slimmer. Frailer. Delicate. A soft bandage wrapped around her temple. A glimpse of her reflection in a stainless steel tray beside the bed made her heart jolt.
Her eyes stared back at her—yet the face was not quite hers which was once fierce, but was soft and delicate but still had a striking resemblance as has.
A nurse walked in and gasped. "Miss Celestela? You are awake!"
She was puzzled and didn't even get the name.
She blink her eyes, dazed.
The nurse left the room immediately looking out for a doctor. Few minutes later, a middle-aged man dressed in a white coat appeared, flipping through a file as he glanced between her and the documents in hand.
"You have been in coma for three months," he said gently. "Your family will be contacted right away."
Family?
Her family were dead. What family were they referring to? Or… was it the family of the girl whose body she now possess?
If not for the fact that this body was so weak and unstable, she might have believed it was hers. But everything felt wrong. Foreign.
She knew the land of Arnold like the back of her hand—its rough soil, its cool air, its wooden homes. But this place? This place was alien.The walls, The machines, The strange clothes, The soft beds, The smooth floors. She didn't understand them, they felt too foreign.
Her heart skip, with dread.
Was this... the afterlife?
She had expected to survive the stab. To rise, to take her revenge. She remembered them clearly—her brother's death, her parents' bloodied head's, how she gave up.
Tears threatened to come out of her eyes. She bit her lip hard trying to force them back.
But she needed answers.
Her voice came out hoarse. "Where… is this?" as someone who hasn't talked in three months.
"Golden City," the doctor replied. "You're in Beijing, in Golden City First General Hospital." he said puzzled, but then she had just woke up from a coma its was normal to feel out of place and confused.
She didn't recognize the name. The city, the machines, the clothes, the girl in the mirror—it was all wrong.
Her gaze dropped to her hands. Pale. Fragile. A stark contrast to the battle-worn fingers she once bore.
Memories crashed over her like a broken dam—her family's screams, the traitors' laughter, the smell of blood.
And now… this.
She wasn't dreaming.
She gasped as realization struck her: her soul had transmigrated.
But why this body?
Why here?
Celestelle heard a knock on the door that brought her out of her thoughts. And A tall woman who was dressed flashy entered, behind her was a man in a dark suit. Their expressions were cautious, unreadable.
"Miss Celestela," the woman called slowly with a forced smile. "We are so relieved you are awake. We were not sure if you would survive the accident. The doctor had ask us to prepare for the worst."
She looked at them trying to understand if she knew them or not but, they felt unfamiliar, then she asked. "Who are you?"
The woman paused. "I'm your aunt. Do you… not remember anything?"
This wasn't her mother sister, or biological father sister…. but that of her stepfather and Celestela definitely didn't have a good impression of her.
She didn't answer. Rather, she lay back on her pillow, her gaze looking toward the window.
The lady twitched her lips awkwardly,by the lack of response and ignorance.
She had come back. The heavens had answered her plea.
Now, she needed clarity.
Who was this Celestela?
And why did her new eyes carry the same sorrow?
If fate had given her a second chance, she wouldn't waste it.
This time… she wouldn't die weakly or quietly.
Yet she was confused. Lost. She had no idea how this world worked—no idea where to begin.
In her time, to command influence or commit evil, one needed power: a title, a seat on the court, control over armies or regions. But here? She didn't know what authority looked like in this era. What title granted influence? What status allowed someone to rule?
She reached deep, searching for memories.
And they came.
Celestela… was the heiress of a major company. She'd already begun supervising operations before the accident.
From what she could gather, there had been internal conflict—her stepfather, her stepmother, her step sibling. And before the accident… she'd suspected betrayal.
Her boyfriend and Her stepsister.
Their faces had been the last she saw before everything went black.
More fragments surfaced.
Celestela had been orphaned once already. Her real father and brother had died in a car accident when she was just eight. Only she and her mother survived.
Two years after, her mother remarried her father's best friend. A kind man, loyal to their family, with a daughter of his own. It had seemed ideal: two single parents raising their children together.
But it had stayed peaceful.
The more she recalled, the clearer it became.
Celestela had lived a life of, envy, and betrayal—just like her.
And now… that life belonged to her.