Recarnation of the villainess.

The cold morning hit harder in the so-called kingdom.

Salira—or Iris—woke to the quiet crackling of embers, the air still faintly warm from the fire Adam had kept alive. His makeshift bed was empty. She rubbed her eyes and rose slowly, still wrapped in one of the thick blankets.

The castle—or ruin, more accurately—felt even more lifeless in the daylight. Shadows didn't creep here; they slept. The corridors groaned with age, the walls whispering with memories long buried.

Down the hall, she found Adam standing in the central chamber. His back faced her, posture firm, arms crossed. He was staring out a shattered stained-glass window, where a broken coat of arms flickered under the grey light.

"There's barely any town outside the gates," Salira muttered as she joined him. "Just frost and silence."

Adam nodded. "Three houses. Two wells. A bakery that looks like it was abandoned during the last war."

She exhaled. "So the Emperor didn't send us away. He exiled us."

Adam didn't respond.

Salira's fingers clenched around the cloth shawl she'd thrown on. "We're supposed to make this place work? There's barely anything to rule over."

"I'll send a request for supplies," Adam finally said. "Faer can help design the infrastructure. You can begin weapon construction in the south wing—once we reinforce the roof."

Salira looked at him. "...You sound like you've already decided to stay."

His gaze met hers. "We either rot, or we rebuild. I don't plan on rotting."

There was silence again. Heavy. But not hopeless.

That afternoon, the two of them explored the estate grounds. They passed dead gardens, a half-broken watchtower, and a shed full of rusted tools. Salira paused near the back fence, where something strange caught her eye: a stone statue overgrown with frost-covered vines. A woman. No eyes. Just a carved mouth, slightly open.

"...Creepy," she whispered.

Beside her, Adam studied the statue with a deep frown. "The inscription is worn away. I'll have it cleaned."

They left it behind. But even as they returned to the estate, Salira couldn't shake the feeling that statue had been… watching.

---

By nightfall, the room they'd claimed was slightly more habitable.

Salira placed a few glowing stones along the window sills—small energy cores she'd salvaged from Faer's lab. They buzzed softly, releasing a dim, soothing warmth.

She set up a workspace in the corner. Laid her blueprints out. Began working.

Adam stood by the fireplace, arms crossed again, watching her in silence.

"You're glaring at my designs," she said.

"I'm reading them," he replied.

She turned to face him. "Want to try building one? Might help with that noble rage."

He smirked faintly. "I'd break the parts."

"You probably would," she agreed, chuckling.

And then… time slowed again.

A drop of ink paused mid-drip from her pen. The soft hum of the energy cores ceased. Wind halted. Fire froze.

Salira blinked. Iris blinked.

"...Again?"

She stood, heart already racing.

Everything around her was perfectly still. Like before.

She turned toward the doorway. The shadow was there again.

Tall. Unmoving. Not shaped like Adam.

"…What are you?" she whispered.

No answer.

Her voice echoed—soft, but the world didn't respond.

And then, from behind her… a sound. Not a system message. Not a voice.

A laugh.

It sounded like her own.

She turned sharply—but the room was empty.

She was alone.

For a second, her reflection in the cracked window looked back at her wrong—smiling when she wasn't.

Then everything snapped back.

Time resumed.

Adam glanced up from the fireplace. "You okay?"

She quickly sat down. "Yeah. Just… tired."

He didn't press.

She reached for her blueprint again, trying to focus. But her hand trembled slightly.

What was that?

Why did her own reflection smile like that?

---

Later, when the lights were low and the fire had dimmed again, Adam was asleep on the floor, arms crossed over his chest like a knight guarding the last thing he had.

Salira stared at the ceiling.

"...Adam?"

He didn't respond. He was really asleep this time.

She turned toward the window.

And whispered:

> "I know you're watching."

No response. But she felt it. The fourth wall rippling.