In my sleep, I remembered how happy I once was.

  Two months ago, I believed—

  truly believed that I would become an Exvertia, just like my parents.

  I imagined a future where I could stand between two worlds, not above anyone, not below anyone, but with them.

  With the Exvertia personality Connor had taught me.

  Balance, restraint, awareness... I thought I could help people like Narina and Rickely.

  Not by overpowering them.

  Not by speaking for them.

  But by understanding both sides, by choosing when to step forward and when to stay quiet.

  For the first time, my eyes had opened to the social fractures between Exvertia and non-Exvertia.

  Admiration that turned into pressure.

  Protection that quietly became control.

  And I wanted to be different.

  But fear walked beside that hope.

  I was afraid of becoming an Exvertia like my mother who was respected, flawless… and emotionally unreachable.

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  Afraid of losing the part of myself that hesitated, doubted, cared too much.

  Afraid of the words Connor had mentioned only in fragments, half-hidden behind jokes and teasing smiles.

  Soul leak.

  Void soul.

  Failures that never made it into official reports.

  I was scared of those possibilities.

  Terrified, even.

  Yet somehow… I trusted him.

  Connor wouldn’t lie to me about the important things.

  Connor wouldn’t abandon me in the middle of it.

  And buried even deeper than fear and trust, there was a feeling I didn’t know how to name.

  I liked him.

  Not because he was my mentor.

  Not because he was calm or capable.

  But because he was a non-Exvertia too—someone who understood what it meant to survive in a world that demanded personality as currency.

  That warmth lingered in my chest—

  Until everything collapsed.

  I was falling.

  Cold water wrapped around me, crushing the air from my lungs.

  My vision blurred, sounds drowned out, and my body sank no matter how hard I struggled.

  My chest burned.

  I tried to scream, but water flooded my mouth instead.

  Panic shredded my thoughts, my limbs growing heavy, unresponsive.

  "I can’t breathe."

  The pressure intensified. Darkness crept in from the edges of my sight.

  And then—

  Everything went black.

  I woke up gasping.

  Pain stabbed through my head as dizziness washed over me.

  The world spun violently before slowly coming into focus.

  My ceiling.

  My room.

  “…What?”

  I pushed myself up, my body weak, unfamiliar.

  My heart raced as if it were trying to escape my chest.

  This wasn’t right.

  The last thing I remembered was the Exvertia Center.

  The sterile white corridors, the cold air, the machines.

  Connor in the hallway, his voice steady, promising he’d be there.

  We were supposed to undergo the process.

  Together.

  Yet here I was.

  At home.

  Alone.

  I pressed my hand against my chest, my breathing uneven.

  If I was here…

  Then where was Connor?

  And more importantly—

  What had really happened during the process I was never supposed to wake up from alone?