Chapter Text
Prologue: A Second Round?
"…I hope we'll find each other again in our next life."
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"Fuck… that could've killed me..."
My breath comes in sharp, shallow gasps as I stare at my small hand, still outstretched toward the sun. It's shaking, my entire body shaking. And it hurts. My chest feels tight—like I can't draw enough air in. The pressure is unbearable. I clutch at my heart instinctively, gasping for a breath that won't come.
I try to sit up, but the world tilts and my stomach churns.
Unable to stop myself, I roll to my side and throw up.
When the nausea finally fades, leaving me feeling hollow, I mutter to myself, "I… I did die."
No, wait. I'm here. Am I? Did I die?
I blink, shaking my head. "What the hell was that!?"
Everything feels wrong—like something fundamental shifted inside me.
I try to push myself up, but my legs, tiny and unsteady, betray me. They tangle in each other as I stagger. Before I can steady myself, I lose my balance completely and roll down the embankment. My body hits the ground with a thud, tumbling helplessly until I come to a jarring stop.
I lie there, then I look down at the vast ocean stretching out, hundreds of meters below. Between me and the endless drop, a sturdy fence running along the edge, barely holding anyone back from falling —like I almost did.
This place… I'm on Dad's—no, our floating island.
But wasn't I just… grown up a minute ago? How did I end up here? What happened?
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The memory of my death—if that's what it was—lingers like a dream just out of reach. It feels vivid, yet impossibly distant. My heart pounds as I try to piece it together. What happened? How am I here?
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Everything is a mess.
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Trying to order everything in my head…
I remember lying here before. Same place, same situation. Not too long ago… or maybe a long time ago? It feels like déjà vu, but it's more than that. It's vivid, painfully clear.
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"What… happened to me?"
The sun dips lower on the horizon, staining the sky a shades of orange and purple. The air cools, prickling my skin. I need to go home, but my legs feel like they belong to someone else.
Slowly, my thoughts begin to clear a little. I think. The events from earlier are piecing themselves together in a more coherent way.
First, there was a hit—then a scolding, followed by the apology from me. And when Mistress Zola saw me father brought me to the shed—the one my brother and I called home whenever Zola was around.
None of that is surprising; I could've predicted it. Wait… predicted?
The word feels heavy, strange. Why does it make sense? And why would I run away? I knew it would only make things worse. It only hurts me and my parents.
But I did it anyway. Why? Did I hurt them? Did I really hurt them?
Caught in the spiral of my thoughts, I barely notice when my older brother, Nicks, talking to me. He must think I'm stuck on my reading exercise again.
I glance at him, my chest tightening further as a memory—no, this memory—plays out in my mind. The conversation we're about to have, I already know it. "Bro" It feels odd, calling him that, but it's what I said before.
He blinks at me, surprised by my tone. His reaction and answers match what I remember.
It's like my memories. How do I know all of this?
Did I somehow see the future?
No... it's not just that.
Did I "reincarnate" again? Back to the same time and place, just like in these so-called "memories"?
Chapter 1: What to Do?
It's been a few weeks since I remembered my past life. Since then, things have been… slow. Close to every day, I've been working in the fields with Dad, Nicks and some servs from sunrise. It's fine—nice even—but there's so much more I want to do.
The problem is, I can't do much of anything yet. Not until Collin is born. I don't want to risk messing up his birth.
Waiting, though? Waiting is so boring. A year or so didn't feel this long in my memories.
Nothing's exactly like I remember, but it's close enough. I think there was a name for that in my first life… the butterfly effect? Yeah, that sounds right.
I know there are no guarantees. My memories don't mean everything will happen the same way. But Collin? He has to exist. I don't even want to imagine a world without him. It's bad enough knowing I'll never see my kids from my past life again.
That thought feels wrong every time it crosses my mind. Me, a kid, thinking about kids of my own? Gross. Blah.
I've been careful not to interfere too much—especially with Mom, Dad, or Zola. I even wrote down everything I could remember from my past life, like I did last time. The more I write, the more I remember. It's weird how that works. Stuff I thought I'd forgotten just comes back, like it was waiting for me to dig it up.
But still, writing, working, and studying? It's not enough. It's boring.
The only times I break from the usual routine are when I do things I remember from my past life. But until Collin's birth, there's almost nothing I can act on. So until then, I'm stuck. Waiting.
I'm pulled out of my thoughts when Finnley crashes into me with a grin. "Leon! Come eat!" she chirps, grabbing my arm and tugging. "Time for lunch, dear," Mom says, trailing behind her.
"Oh, yeah. Sure, I'm coming," I mumble, letting Finnley drag me along.
For now, I just have to keep my head down and not mess with anything. Once Collin is born, I can finally start steering my family toward a better future—especially Rutart and Merce. Maybe if they are not so reliant on Zola, or Zola changes, they don't meet such a gruesome fate. And as soon as I get Luxion, I'll be able to help everyone else too.
It's probably too late for the other Leon, but I promise, I'll make things better for you, my dear…
It's frustrating, though—I can't remember any names that weren't in the game. Still, I'll do everything I can to help all my past wives so they don't have to suffer this time around. They deserve better, and I won't let them down. Even my first life's sister, if she's here. Yeah, she's an idiot, but I won't let her end up seducing those five idiots just to get by. She too deserves better than that.
There's so much chaos and misfortune in these memories. I managed to live a good life, but I was always too late to act—only ever getting serious when the fires were already raging. It was always panic, stress, and desperation. This time, I need to be better, to act earlier—for the people I could have saved and for those who cared and worried about me despite everything. I owe them that much.
I just hope Dad will help me get to Luxion before I'm old enough to go after it by myself, so I get a head start.
Morning comes and goes, but the days don't feel any different—until suddenly one does. Mom and Dad call us together in the evening, their expressions unusually serious but warm.
"We have some news," Dad says, grinning ear to ear like it was the best news in the world. "You're getting another sibling!"
There's a pause as the words sink in. Mom, sitting beside him, looks a little tired, but her smile is soft, glowing with that kind of quiet happiness that warms a room. "You'll have to help out more around the house, alright?" she says, her voice calm but expectant.
Nicks, being Nicks, shrugs, with his arms crossed. "Let's hope it's a girl. Lady Zola's always nicer to girls."
Mom shakes her head, amused. "Oh, come on, Nicks. You've been a great older brother to Leon. I'm sure it'll be just fine if it's a boy. You'll help him out, just like you help Leon."
"Sure," Nicks says, deadpan.
Jenna groans from her seat, throwing her head back dramatically. "Ugh, another baby? Great. More crying all night."
Before anyone can reply, Finnley practically explodes with excitement, gasping so loudly it makes me flinch. Her little hands clap together like she's trying to summon magic, and her whole face lights up. "A baby?!" she shrieks. "I want to help! I'll sing to them every day!" She's bouncing now, spinning toward Jenna with wide, sparkling eyes. "Isn't that amazing, Jenna? We'll have a tiny sibling!"
Jenna just rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. "Babies are noisy, Finnley. You'll see."
I stay quiet, my heart hammering. This is it. This is the moment I've been waiting for. Everything has to go perfectly. If I mess up even a small detail—if anything changes—what if Collin doesn't exist? Just thinking about it makes my stomach turn. I can't let that happen.
So, I stay in the background, nodding along when Mom and Dad explain how we all need to pitch in. When Finnley tugs on my sleeve and asks, "Will you play with the baby when they're here?" I give her a small smile and say, "Sure."
The days that follow drag on. Every morning feels like the same slow routine: working in the fields with Dad and Nicks, helping Mom with chores, and staying out of trouble.
Jenna isn't exactly helpful. She keeps dodging any hard work, acting like she's above it all—a habit she definitely picked up from Zola and Merce. Every time she complains, I have to bite my tongue. The last thing I want is to start a fight that stresses Mom out.
Finnley, on the other hand, is glued to Mom like a second shadow. She hums little lullabies while folding laundry and constantly asks, "Mama, do you think the baby can hear me?
Mom just smiles, brushing Finnley's hair gently. "I'm sure they can, sweetheart. Keep singing—they'll love it."
When the big day finally arrives, the house is chaos.
Dad paces like a soldier in battle, barking orders to Nicks, who scrambles to follow them. Jenna is biting her nails in the corner, looking as stressed as I feel. Finnley clings to me, her big eyes brimming with worry.
"Is Mama going to be okay?" she whispers.
"She'll be fine," I tell her, ruffling her hair. "Mom's strong. She's got this."
Still, my stomach twists in knots. Everything depends on this moment.
Hours pass like centuries before a newborn's cries echo through the house. The tension breaks instantly. Dad steps out of the bedroom, his face a mixture of exhaustion and pride.
"It's a boy," he says, his grin so wide it's almost blinding.
It´s Collin.
It's him—it's really him! Right birthday, right name, everything matches. And they even named him Collin without me saying a word.
I didn't mess it up. Relief floods through me. Now I can finally start moving forward.
First on the list? Convincing Dad to help me with "my dream" and find Luxion. I doubt he'll agree right away, but maybe I'll get lucky.
For now, though, let's shake things up a little. Time to show my sisters and Zola's kids how much more fun life can be when you stop acting like a stuck-up noble all the time.