Lilith stepped out of the audition hall, her heels clicking softly against the marble as the heavy doors closed behind her. Her face, usually composed and unreadable, was now tightened in discomfort.
Her brows knit together, jaw clenched slightly. Her head was pounding..not from nerves, but from sothing deeper unusual.
That scene, those words she spoke inside hadn’t co from morization or rehearsed lines. They had co from sowhere buried. Sowhere old. Sowhere that didn’t entirely belong to her. It felt as if the character of Evelyne hadn’t been acted but had risen out of her body like it belonged to her bones. And perhaps... it did.
Because the original owner of this body, the woman whose life Lilith now lived had been Evelyne.
Quiet.
Abandoned.
Misunderstood.
And for a mont inside that audition room, Lilith had forgotten where Evelyne ended and she began.
She pressed her fingers against her temple, trying to ease the sharp ache pulsing behind her eyes. She hated this feeling, this blur between herself and mories she never lived but sohow carried. As if ghosts lived beneath her skin.
Around her, the waiting girls glanced up.
One of them whispered, "Look at her face... she must’ve ssed up."
"Poor thing," another mumbled, biting her lip.
"Pretty, but probably too stiff. I knew she wouldn’t make it."
Lilith didn’t hear them Or maybe she did but she didn’t care.
***
It was late at night. The kind of late where the world had gone still and only the soft hum of electronics filled the silence.
Lilith sat on her bed, dressed in an oversized tee, her hair pulled loosely behind her head, strands falling softly around her face.
The only light in the room ca from the screen in front of her—her human doll’s face glowing softly through video call. He leaned forward, brows pinched just slightly.
"What’s wrong with you, Lili?" he asked, voice quieter than usual. He could see it–her bad expression, the way her fingers kept brushing her temple like sothing was stuck in her head.
Lilith didn’t speak for a few seconds.
Then, her voice ca low. "What do you think about the original owner of this body?" she asked, her eyes not quite eting the cara. "The girl who was here before ."
There was a pause. A breath.
"I don’t know," he said softly. "I only know you."
His eyes searched her. "Do you feel troubled?"
Lilith didn’t answer.
But sothing changed. On the other side of the screen, the atmosphere shifted. Just slightly. She could feel it, even through pixels and distance the change in energy. And then...
Gray appeared.
He blinked, as if adjusting to light, and when his eyes settled on her face, sothing like warmth lted into his expression.
"...Long ti no see," he said, voice soft, familiar. His gaze held none of Alexander’s intensity, none of Ray’s childlike spark. Gray was calm. Quiet. But the kind of quiet that paid attention to every breath.
Lilith stared at him, stunned for a mont.
The way his eyes looked at her not like he was watching but like he was feeling her.
She didn’t know why, but the knot in her chest loosened just a little.
"...I missed this version of you," she said without thinking.
Gray smiled.
Then he got serious again, eyes lowering as he studied her more carefully. "Lili... can I ask you sothing?"
She nodded.
"Your face. In your original world. Was it... different?"
Lilith shook her head. "No. It was exactly the sa."
"Then..." he leaned forward just slightly, watching her face. "Have you ever considered that maybe you’re not two different people?"
"What do you an?" she frowned.
"I an... what if the you who lived here before wasn’t soone else?" Gray said, folding his arms. "What if she was you? Just another version. Another life. A broken part you forgot... and now rembered."
Lilith stared.
Her mind went blank for a second.
"No," she muttered. "No way. That’s too much."
Gray’s smile faded into sothing gentler. "Is it?"
She didn’t reply.
"Think, Lilith," Gray said, voice calm but firm as he leaned a bit closer to the cara. "Why are you so comfortable in this body?"
Lilith blinked. She didn’t speak. Just sat there, curling her fingers around her blanket like she was holding onto sothing real.
"You’ve been here for months now," he continued, "but not once did you complain about weird muscle mory. Or strange food preferences. You didn’t struggle with writing, walking, language, breathing—nothing."
"I just adapted fast," Lilith muttered under her breath.
Gray raised an eyebrow. "You entered a new world, in a new body, with a whole history attached to it. And you ’adapted fast’? That’s what you’re going with?"
She bit her inner cheek.
"Let ask you sothing else," he said, sitting back. "Why do you rember her feelings? Her pain? Her anger? You weren’t here when she went through those things. So how is it that you can feel them like your own?"
"...Because I’m adaptive?" she said dryly..
Gray gave her a long stare.
She groaned and covered her face with her palm. "Okay, okay, I get it! You’re saying I am her?"
"I’m saying," Gray said gently, "maybe this isn’t soone else’s body. Maybe this is yours. And this life... is just another page."
He looked at her like he already knew she was fighting the idea. "I’ve read about this before. People who die and get reborn... usually, their soul carries the mory. Not the body. So if you had really taken over soone else’s life, you’d be disoriented. You’d feel out of place. But you? You’re too natural in it. It’s like this body was made for you."
Lilith stared at the screen.
Her heart thumped once hard.
"...You’re saying I didn’t transmigrate?" she asked slowly.
Gray shook his head slightly. "Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t. But either way, I don’t think there was another person. I think it was always you. A different life. Sa soul."
Lilith didn’t answer.
Because suddenly, it didn’t feel like she was living soone else’s life.
It felt like she was finally rembering her own.
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