"And you're sure this is wise?"

My voice comes out a hushed whisper as I duck down behind the forest's greenery, looking back and forth between the camp in front of us and the girl beside me. Before we took off into our sprint, Olivia insisted that she lead the way. "There should be an encampment not far from here", she told me. "We can plan our entry when we're there." And as much as I wanted to stop her, to throw a fit and accuse her of sending us to our doom-- somehow I knew better. She had a plan, and I was willing to hear it out. Especially when I knew I had none.

It almost felt like my heart was racing at a million miles per second. My mind was scattered, topic after topic filtering through, all different yet each and every one centered around the same concept: time. We were running out of it. What if it was too late? If by the time we reach the others, enough damage had already been done? A kind of damage that was numbingly irreparable, the type of damage that would render this 'second chance to make things right' another failure?
I wasn't sure how much time had passed spent weaving in and out between trees,  desperate. Sure enough, we eventually stumbled upon our target.

As she said, there it was: a miniature clearing filled with patchy grey tents, soldiers clad in pitch dark armor pacing back and forth with their swords heaved up upon their own shoulders. We were sitting camouflaged in the trees, silently observing them as they worked. Not too far away from the biggest tent appeared to be a row of carriages, each of which had its own distinct shapes and sizes. My eyes dragged towards one in particular, its deep brown wood chipped and decayed from what was presumably years of use. Every few seconds I couldn't help but flinch when a soldier came in and out of view, the dark-seeded men going about their business quickly as if they were hyper-conscious of their own time, trying desperately to beat an intangible clock. It didn't take me long to realize why.

I watched closely as the same group of soldiers walked to-and-from the carriages, unidentifiable objects in their hands. They were stockpiling. Filling the carriages with some type of good I couldn't see from where I lied now. As if reading my thoughts (which to be fair she probably did), Olivia grimaces-- nodding absentmindedly. It appeared my deduction was right.

When my question finally registers, she hums softly-- keeping her voice equally as quiet. "Wise..? Definitely not. Convenient? Yes." 

I can't stop the frown that crosses my face when I turn to look at her, her words leaving an unsettling feeling slowly cementing itself in the pit of my stomach. Noticing my clear skepticism, she continues after a moment's pause: meeting my eyes with her own for the briefest of seconds before looking away just as quickly. But of course,  within those few seconds, there was no possible way to ignore the hint of shame I saw swimming throughout them. No mistaking the way she faltered, the way she busied herself with scanning the encampment for the umpteenth time since we got here. 

It was almost as if she couldn't look at me. And to be honest, no matter how conniving or self-righteous it might sound, I didn't want it any other way. Knowing that she felt guilty over her actions gave me a sense of satisfaction, one I wouldn't dare admit out loud. When an awkward cough slipped passed her lips, however, something told me she knew already anyway. 

Her voice comes out a hesitant whisper as if testing the waters, mindful of the way she phrased her own words. "It didn't take long for me to come to my senses. I don't think I truly realized the fault behind my actions until the moment the King's death truly settled on my conscience. But I knew that with the position I found myself in, it'd be foolish to end it early. I had an in." She shakes her head and with a purse of her lips, she starts over. "I played it unsuspecting and I guess eventually, the Queen-- Jennie trusted me enough to let me observe her war meetings. It was there she revealed to me her plan." 

Jennie. Knowing what I do know about my past with the girl, hearing her name felt all the more unusual. That woman... that person walking around causing all this mayhem... She wasn't my Jennie. Not anymore.

I could do nothing but listen and watch Olivia as she points around the encampment, voice quiet but not too quiet where I couldn't hear. She first points to the line of carriages and then to the soldiers, blissfully unaware of our lurking in the shadows. She continues after a beat. "They had full confidence with the way their plan was unfolding, that they knew they'd have taken half the kingdom by nightfall. So, their first step of invasion was to ensure they kept their supply of weaponry accessible. After securing the bridge they would plan to use it to send their supplies over in shipments, hence the carriages."

My mouth forms into a silent 'o' almost immediately, the sickly feeling in my gut increasing tenfold in just a matter of seconds. I almost couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that for the North to seem as barbaric and corrupt as it did, they were able to come together to create something so elaborate. I tilt my head to the side. "And... I don't suppose you have a plan for that, do you? What does any of this have to do with sneaking inside the Kingdom?"

Olivia finally finds the confidence to hold eye contact and levels me with a knowing quirk of her brow, shrugging as if it was obvious. "Well, we find a way to join the shipments, of course. If we can somehow find a way to get inside one of those carriages then it will take us straight to the doors of Eden."

Again I'm struck with a pang of realization, finally understanding her plan. As much as I wanted so badly to be mad at her at this very moment, a large part of me felt immensely grateful. But then a thought dawns on me and I'm shaking my head. It all felt so... daunting. Looking out at the dark-cloaked soldiers as they paced the clearing in their high-and-mighty gear and all, I dreaded to think about what it would look like if we successfully managed to cross the bridge. 

Clicking my tongue against my cheek, I hum. "If the bridge is as fortified as you're making it appear, then are you sure this is our only option?" I trail off when a memory from all those days ago resurfaces to the forefront of my mind. The memory of Yves dragging me through the halls of her palace, sneaking outside through the mirrored portal so we could visit her childhood home... The mere image of the girl had my heart swelling painfully in my chest, but I push it aside and focus on the task at hand.  My thoughts zero in now on the mirror itself, inquisitive. I continue. "I know that the mirror is a one-way trip, that it can only be activated from the other side-- inside the palace. But is it possible we're missing something? Surely if there's one secret entrance, there's likely to be another, right?"

She didn't need me to clarify. The way her eyes flashed dark for the briefest of moments, her eyes washing over in recognition, was enough to have me realizing that she read my thoughts. Olivia clicks her tongue against her cheek and shakes her head solemnly.

"No. And even if there was, there is simply no way of knowing.  Eden works in mysterious ways." She shakes her head, realizing she was digressing from the topic. Again she sighs. "Long answer short, no. This would have to be our only way. And as much as I'm aware your powers have returned to you, it is simply not enough. One step inside that encampment, we will have stood no chance. We must find a way to be discrete."

Nodding my head, again a new question dawns on me. Inching closer to the girl as if I was saying something I wasn't supposed to know, I push once more. "And... what about that day in the hospital wing with-- what's his name, Chef Min-sik? You did something... altered his memory somehow. Could you not possibly erase our presence here from their minds? If we somehow made it to one of the carriages but make it so they never even noticed?"

She shakes her head. "As much as I hate to admit it, I am not powerful enough to attempt such a thing. Chef Min-sik is a good man but he was too weak-willed. Up against the dark army whose will is unmatched, unlike any other? The mere attempt would have my own brain scattered. Broken." And then she falls quiet. Again she looks away from me, avoiding my eyes. Her voice gets even quieter if possible, a kind of timidness in its depths that had me straining to hear her. But I did. "I know you are quite unhappy with me due to obvious reasons that this may sound like an enticing idea, but I implore you to think otherwise. It is not worth trying."

Just as I was about to open my mouth and disagree, I didn't miss the look she shot my way. The kind of look that screamed she didn't want me to lie to her, that she didn't want me to weave my way out of such an accusation. And so I stay silent. Because the more I thought about it, the more I analyzed the truth behind her words... I realized she was right. I was bitter.
It would take some getting used to, knowing she would now forever be picking and prodding around with my thoughts-- whether it's intended or not.

 There was no use arguing against a fact we both knew to be true.

So, with a short (very stiff) nod, I drop it.  Now it's my turn to look around the encampment, pretending to busy myself to avoid confrontation with the raven-haired girl. Through my peripheral, I didn't miss the way she opened and closed several times, the way she seemed to be digging around her thoughts, wanting desperately to break the ice between us. But instead, she opts for silence.  For several moments more, no one talks. The quiet admission weighed heavy on us, creating an awkward, undeniable tension-- a type of tension that became increasingly harder to ignore the more I stared out into the camp before us. And so, with a clear of my throat, I sigh. "So... there's not much room for error. We're outmatched in every way."

She simply nods. Again a silence takes over, but this time I force myself to ignore the tension. This time I force myself to ignore the way Olivia blatantly hides her emotions behind a clench of her jaw, the way she fiddled with her hands as if taken over by nerves-- something I'd never seen on her before. Instead my mind races. I officially had no idea what to do.

Of course, as my dumb luck would have it, it seems I didn't need to.

I'm drawn from my thoughts when Olivia suddenly perks up. I can't help but flinch when she turns to look at me as if a bright, invisible light bulb was standing prominent above her head. If she noticed me startle, she doesn't mention it-- tilting her head as she began slowly enunciating her words, making sense of her idea out loud in real-time. "Obviously, it would not be wise for us to just show our faces around camp and hope that we go unrecognized. So... what if we were not us?"

I arch an eyebrow, confused. It's when she motions towards a nearby group of soldiers does it finally dawn on me, and she's nodding her head to confirm my suspicions. She didn't need to continue for a flash of doubt to instantly cement in the pit of my stomach. I shake my head. "You know, you talk a lot of game on how seasoned and battle-hardened these guys are to assume we could steal their gear without them noticing."

Her lips press into a small grimace at my words, visibly fighting back an eye roll. "Are you proposing anything better? Perhaps you think we should frolic out into the open and challenge them to a dance battle, huh? Winner walks away unscathed with a carriage full of weapons?"

There it is, I internally scoff. The tension is running its course.
Deep down I knew that she was just retaliating, that the budding tension between us was finally staking its claim. Olivia was argumentative. Stubborn. Full of pride. 
And so am I.

This time I don't bother hiding my snarl. Turning to face her I resist the urge of slapping her a second time. "For someone who's already hanging by a thread as it is, you sure are chatty."

She doesn't back down. "It is only because I am confident. We are running out of time, Y/N. And whether you wish to believe me or not, I want to save our people. More than I have ever wanted a thing in my life."

For a moment we stare each other down, and then I cave. The more I thought about it, the more I realized she was right. We were running out of time and this was our only option. So, after a beat, I nod my head. That's all she needed. She pushes herself up and turns on her heal, staying camouflaged within the trees as she advanced closer upon the camp. I didn't waste any time in following after her. 

Walking through the earth beneath our feet,  careful to not cause too much noise, I can't help but notice how quiet my footsteps sounded-- so unlike the way I trudged and dragged my feet before. Slowly but surely, fragments of my past life were turning to fruition. I was hearing more-- my ears sensitive to the noises around me. It was almost as if I could hear Olivia's heart beating in her chest, could hear the way my journal jostled in her satchel. Before I can dwell too much on it, however, I'm stopped when I almost tumble into her back. Olivia stopped by the back of one of the tents, kneeling just out of view. It was still daytime but the slowly darkening sky was enough to have us confident we wouldn't be noticed. She raises her hand and gestured silently to the group of soldiers who caught our attention only moments prior, the cloaked men positioned by a particularly large wooden structure. Rather than stopping to gauge what it might have been, she cuts to the chase.

"There. That must be the next shipment. Now... if we can somehow draw two of them away.." She falls quiet, and it's then I realize she's talking to herself more than anything. I'm left to stand and awkwardly watch as she felt around her surroundings, presumably trying to find something to draw them away with. When she notices my stiffness she huffs.

"Don't just stand there. Help me."

At this, I can't help but raise an eyebrow, making a show of giving our surroundings a firm once over. "You do realize there are six of them and two of us, correct? And that's by the shipment alone. One wrong move and we'll have a horde of Jennie's men closing in on us like bugs to food. What could you possibly propose we do that won't alert the entire encampment that we're here?"

Olivia huffs a second time, but instead of giving up and conceding that maybe I was right to be skeptical, she persists. "The least you could do is just try. Is now really the time for your cynicism?"

With a roll of my eyes, and admittedly a pang of pettiness rooted in my actions, I make yet another dramatic show of searching our surroundings before coming back with a tiny twig in hand-- showing it to her with a faux look of excitement on my face. "Look! The answer to our prayers!"

I guess one thing that would never change about me, whether I'm the version of myself from Eden or the version of myself from Seoul, is that my humor was set in stone. This time Olivia doesn't bother masking her frustration. Standing from her crouched position she slaps the twig out of my hand and scowls, her voice rising an octave. "I get that you don't trust me, but must you make this so difficult? I am trying to do better, to fix my mistakes. Why must you give me such a hard time?"

I can't stop my own scowl from crossing my lips, sizing her up with just as much fire. I scoff a chuckle. "I'm sorry, but I seem to have missed the part where I was supposed to feel bad for you for being so stupid. Just think about what you're proposing. We can't just stumble into the enemy's territory with no plan and expect things to just come to us. It's irresponsible-"

Before I can finish my sentence, I'm interrupted. The sound of the tent flapping curtly open right beside us has us jumping, a shared shriek of surprise escaping our lips. Poking his head through the tent, probably having heard our slowly-increasing-in-volume argument and wanting to see the commotion, was one of Jennie's soldiers-- his own face washing over a mixture of emotions the moment his eyes settle on ours. First, his face washed over in confusion, then shock, then recognition-- all in that order. Before he can do or say anything, however, Olivia acts without thinking. After our second long shriek, she suddenly pushes her hand forward in a closed fist, punching the man square in the middle of his forehead. The simple punch has the man tumbling to our feet, knocked out completely. The helmet in his hands rattled to the floor beside him, and for a moment Oliva and I stay mute-- our hearts racing and our eyes wide in disbelief. Forgetting what we were arguing about only moments before, I nudge the unconscious man with my boot. When the man makes no move of getting up, I release the breath of air I'd been holding. Looking back and forth between the man and Olivia (back and forth, back and forth-- all over again until I was sure I'd given myself whiplash) I shake my head in utter surprise.

"I guess that was one way to do it."

Snapping out of her daze a second later, Olivia is quick to move. Dragging the man's body completely out of the tent, she gets to work at stripping him of his armor. When she finally removes the pitch dark chest piece that protected his clothed upper area, she turns to face me. For a moment we stand still in an awkward silence before she finally breaks it with a sigh, pushing our argument to the back of her mind. She hands me the guard's armor and motions for me to put it on, much quieter this time when she speaks. "We may be able to get away with this. I doubt word will have reached them yet of my turn back to Eden's side. If they see you, however... Just take it."

For several seconds I simply stand, staring down at her outreached hand, a sickly feeling cementing itself in the pit of my stomach when my mind finally realized what'd just happened between us. An argument, one unnecessary and detrimental to our task. Just as I'm about to open my mouth and apologize, however, she interrupts me-- her eyes flashing pitch dark for the briefest of seconds to let me know she knew the incoming speech I planned to deliver. With a shake of her head, she deadpans.  "Don't. Now is not the time."

Noticing the seriousness in her tone, and heeding her warning, I don't waste any more time: forcing myself to ignore the ripple of regret in my soul. Taking the garb from her hand, I strap the pieces to my own body-- mirroring the steps I watched her take when she stripped them off the guard. Attached to the dark chest piece was a fur-like-coat, its thick material covering my frame and hiding my figure. The armguards weighed my hands down the slightest of fractions, the metal lining of their brace-areas cold against my skin. Wrapping the man's belt around my own waist and attaching the two ends tightly together, I couldn't help but hesitate when my hand hovered around the handle of his sword-- the weapon having fallen out during his heavy topple to the floor. But, with a deep breath, I ignore my nerves and pick it up.

In any other situation, I would have collapsed under the weight of the sword, its blade long but not too long where it was disproportionately large against my body. But now... now it felt almost right. I wasn't sure where this newfound strength came from, but I could only assume that like my suddenly improved hearing, it was a benefit I reaped from my past. Turning to face Olivia once I'm sure everything is correctly in place, I don't miss the purse of her lips, the way she looked me up and down as if lost in her thoughts. I frown.

"Did I do it wrong?"

When she notices my inquisitive stare, she stammers, quick to rectify. 

"No, no, that's not it... In fact, I was just hit by a sense of deja vu. The last time I saw you dressed like so was during the final battle. At least, the memory of it, that is."

Now that she mentioned it, she was right. In past Eden, I had my own set that looked like some kind of delicately sewn hybrid between the palace guard's regal armoring and father's intrinsic tunics. Since waking up in this Eden I hadn't touched anything remotely similar: my choice of wear being a mixture of Yves' old clothes gifted to me by her mother, and casual-garb I found resting at the foot of my bed several days later. 

As much as I hated to admit it, as much as it almost felt barbaric to say-- this felt right. Standing still with armor plating my body. It felt like a long-lost sanctity, something I didn't realize I was missing. It almost felt like things were finally coming full circle. And while it was exciting, it terrified me all the same.

Several moments of silence ensued before Olivia finally broke it, snapping out of her daze. Peering around the tent to make sure no other guard had heard the disturbance, she nods after a beat as if realizing we were in the clear. She gives me one last glance-over before handing me the final piece, a dark helmet befitting to a Northern Guard. At first I stared down at the helmet with a pang of disgust circulating through my body, but the impatient look engraved in her eyes was enough to have me biting it back and slipping it over my head. Only once it's firm in place does she move, deciding that enough time had been wasted.

While I knew my identity had been properly skewed and distorted by the armor plating my body, the first step into the open was enough to have my nerves skyrocketing. The first few steps towards the group of guards surrounding that large wooden structure went by without a pause. It was only when we were meer feet away did one of the closer guards finally notice us, giving us a clear double-take when he noticed the very out-of-place Olivia zeroing in on him. Motioning for his fellow guards to turn around, I almost froze in my spot. I half expected them to draw their weapons, for the man to suddenly cry out a battle roar and alert everyone to our presence. But instead, to my utter surprise, he inclines his head in a small bow Olivia's way-- the guards on his flank following suit a second later. She was right. They had no idea the events that occurred in the overseer's temple, no idea of her coming to her senses. The closest man speaks in a rough grunt.

"Miss," He starts, and it took everything within me to not cringe. His size nearly doubled ours, his eyes beady as they stared our way. For a moment he looks Olivia up and down in a kind of way that had my hair raising on the back of my neck, and then his eyes briefly fall in my direction. For the briefest of moments, he seemed to stare me down, searching for my eyes beneath my helmet. When I drop my head to the side to avoid him, he tsks and turns back to Olivia. "What are you doing out here? The Queen was very specific in only permitting soldiers along this outpost... Unless... you are here against her will?"

By the end of his sentence, his lips had tugged up into a sinister grin, stepping closer to Olivia with an air of no-good about him. He grunts. "Tell me... couldn't stay standing pretty behind castle walls, huh?"

I wasn't sure when it started. When I felt the pulsating static in my fingertips, slowly spreading up to palms and across both arms. In this very moment I was glad I was wearing a helmet, a large scowl rooted deep on my face. I felt sick. The condescending tone in the man's voice was enough for me to want to jump in front of Olivia and give him a piece of my mind, to put him in his place. But I don't. Knowing very well the thoughts in my head right now, Olivia stopped me from moving any closer by raising her hand, motioning for me to calm down. The simple gesture has me stilling, remembering where we were. Two of us in an encampment riddled with Jennie's men and their dark devices. We had a plan, one that was much bigger than the man before us now.

Olivia hums and, after waiting for a second (to size the man up or think of an excuse I couldn't be sure), she shakes her head. She scans her eyes over the group before they settle on the man once more.

"I am here on The Queen's orders. She has dictated that the Commander and I accompany you on your next supply run to personally oversee operations on her behalf..." She trails off to gauge their reactions, and sure enough, the man's face visibly pales beneath his helmet. His eyes dart back and forth between Olivia's and mine. Truth be told, I almost paled as well. Commander? Me? Sending the girl a very strongly worded side glance, she ignores me altogether. She continues. Taking a page out of the man's book, her voice drops the slightest of octaves-- threatening him. "Now... are you going to help us get where we need to be, or do I need to let her highness know that you're incompetent and can't do your job? I'm sure she will be very pleased to know who's on our side and who isn't." 

That was all the encouragement he needed.

The man straightens, his once lackadaisical form now stiff as he stares back at us. He stammers, bowing a second time, this time much more refined than the first. "O-of course, miss-- M'lady." In any other situation I might have chuckled, might have found humor out of the situation: a grown man falling weak at the mere mention of a girl less than half his size. But then he turns to me and my own face grows pale. He brings his feet together in a quiet 'stomp', the men on his flank copying him not even a second later, and this time he avoids my eyes-- looking directly over my shoulder. "C-Commander. I apologize I did not recognize you sooner, it appears much has changed since our first encounter all those years ago."

For a moment it grows quiet. Digging around for the right words to say, I stammer. When Olivia shoots me an eyebrow-raised look over her shoulder, one that vehemently begged me to answer, I clear my throat. But, instead of saying something intelligible, the only thing that escapes my lips is a simple:

"Yes."

I don't miss the way Olivia clenches her jaw as if biting back a cringe, don't miss the way the man falters as if taken aback by my curtness. Before he can question me, I continue-- trying to play off my mistake to the best of my ability. I clear my throat a second time. "Yes, so it seems. Now please, if you would set us on our way..." I trail off, waiting for him to catch on. Sure enough, he does.

Having bought into our lie, the man doesn't wait a second longer. He nods. "Forgive us for our insubordination. We hadn't known The Queen made last-minute orders..." He makes several different hand gestures in erratic directions, so quick that it was hard for me to keep up. I watch as the men behind him immediately stomp their feet and heed the man's command, crowding around the large wooden contraption. My eyes trail back to the large man when he nods, hesitating through his words. "Please, be on your way. You may proceed along with this next shipment."

With that, it was over. Like poetry in motion, Olivia's plan went off without a hitch. 
For a moment I was stood still: dumbfounded, my mind trying to make sense of all that just happened. When Olivia nudges me with her shoulder and beckons for me to follow her, I'm quick to snap out of my daze and rush to her side. The man and his soldiers were leading us towards the carriages, large-wooden-contraption in toe. Taking advantage of the loud chatter around us, as well as the sound of the contraptions wheels struggling loudly to keep rolling, I turn to Olivia and whisper under my breath. "How did you know that would work?" 

My voice came out muffled through my helmet, sounding more like a gurgle than a coherent sentence. For a moment she simply looks at me, trying to digest my question. And then, as if giving up, she looks into my thoughts and her lips part slightly, recognizing what I was trying to say in an instant. She turns to face the man's back once more, carefully analyzing his movements, and then whispers-- loud enough for me to hear. "One thing I noticed about the way these guys operate is that they're fueled by fear. If you give them a reason to submit, they won't think twice before doing exactly that."

Again, for what felt like the nth time today, I'm taken aback by the way Olivia suddenly seemed to handle herself so logically. She was smart. Calculating. She was using her knowledge of the northern guardsmen, using the trust Jennie had instilled in her, to navigate her way around. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it felt familiar. She'd done the same to us.

I swallow, opting for silence as within just a matter of seconds we're reaching the designated carriage. This one was bronze in color and, like the dark-brown one my eyes drifted towards only minutes ago, seemed to be slowly decaying from many years of excessive use. When the man holds the door open for Olivia and I to hop inside, the small creak of the wooden skirt confirmed my suspicions that this may well be a bumpy ride. Only once we're firmly seated, sitting adjacent from each other on the uncomfortable seats, does the man close the door behind us; patting the back of the carriage as if to signify that we were ready for departure. Sparing a look behind us, I noticed that the large wooden contraption appeared to be towed to the back of the carriage-- men hurrying to strap it down securely. After a few seconds and another brief knock, we were off.  The coachman lets out a muffled "Yah!" as he whips the horse into moving, but then after that-- silence. Complete, utter quiet. It was now just us.

Fiddling with the cuffs of the heavy armguards over my wrists, I sigh.
We were in deep. But, that only meant that now we were one step closer, too.

It wasn't until now did it finally feel like I had time to breathe. Time to think, time to make sense of everything. Time for it to finally register that I was on my way back to Eden, Olivia of all people only a shoulder-length away from me.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed but by now the sun was almost completely retreating over the horizon-- the sky above us seemingly split halfway between light and dark. As suspected, the carriage ride was bumpy. Every twist or turn I found myself holding onto my seat tightly, anticipating a jolt that would knock me off completely-- but it never came. In contrast, she sat deathly still. Every so often I couldn't help but spare her a glance, couldn't help but watch her as she peered out the window on her left. Her shoulders were stiff, her lips parted, breathing softly. But there was no mistaking the discomfort that tainted her facade, the way her eyebrows furrowed together periodically as if she was drawn away into her own thoughts. I swallow.

The last thing I expected today was to reunite with Olivia. To forgive and forget and move on with her, not against her. If I was being honest with myself, I almost felt selfish. I knew that she was trying. That she wanted to correct her mistakes, that she wanted to turn the tide in the war and maintain her loyalty to Eden-- to her family. But her actions... it was just far too hard to let them go. It was hard to forget the look on her face when the King's lifeless body slumped to the floor, hard to forget the way she sauntered over to Jennie's side and disappeared with her from the scene. It was hard to see her as anything other than the person she became: a stranger. Even sitting across from her now it almost felt as though I couldn't recognize her. She had the same raven-colored-hair, the same dark brown eyes, the same quiver of her lip when something was bothering her. And yet, it felt alien. 

I wasn't sure if I could ever view her the same.

The longer we sat in silence, the more I could think back on my previous life here in Eden; my memories becoming clearer, things long forgotten re-entering my mind like a strong current. And with it, I remembered a single fact. The King died in both lives, the same way.

In other words, Olivia betrayed us in both lives. The exact same way.

The realization left a sour taste in my mouth, my stomach-churning. But... could it be different now? In our last life, she didn't come back. This moment never happened. We never sat adjacent to each other in this same carriage. In fact, I never used the carriage to begin with. I was never pushed through the portal, never bested by Taehyung in that room. So far as I could tell, so many things had happened that never happened before. The thought was enough to have my shoulders relaxing, a relieved sigh escaping my mouth. So things were changing, after all. The actions I was taking in this life-- different actions-- were changing the outcomes already.  But then I falter. 

What about the deaths? Was every death set in stone?  Whoever died in the previous life, would they die in this one? Was it preventable?

Could I save her?

Her. In just a second, the familiar image of silky brown hair and soft brown eyes was all I could think about. She consumed my thoughts in an instant, my heart aching in my chest-- halfway between pained and longing. Yves. My Yves. The sound of her voice, heavenly. The way she smiled at me, warm. Some part of me almost felt angry at myself, because how could I forget her? Screw the fact my memories were literally wiped from my brain-- how could I possibly forget about the one person I cared about the most? The one person I, once upon a time, woke up to every day with: her, smiling that warm smile down at me, eyes creasing at their sides as if signifying she was the happiest she'd ever be