CHAPTER 52: CHAPTER: 52 EVEN IN DEATH, I COULDN’T MEET HER.

After his soul slipped free of his body, Vivian found himself once again in that same dreadful white void that had haunted him for so long.

The first thought that came to his mind was Charlotte.

He called her name, again and again, but the void only swallowed his voice.

Days, or what felt like days, passed as he wandered through the endless white, searching for her. Yet no matter how far he went, he couldn’t find her.

"Haa..." A sigh escaped him, heavy with disappointment.

"I couldn’t even meet her even in death. Was this place a prison?" He didn’t know.

All he was certain of was that this vast, hollow void would be his final resting place.

The thought left a bitter taste, he had hoped, at least in death, to be reunited with Charlotte, who had gone before him.

But now, standing in this endless nothingness, there was nothing left to do but stare into the blank expanse.

"Haa... at least I was able to avenge Char—" he stopped mid-sentence, the realization hitting him.

At the final moment of his life, he hadn’t felt pain. But he had felt something, the eerie clarity of his neck being severed.

He pondered deeply. If he had killed Kafrik... then who killed him?

Was there someone else who had severed his head? No, that couldn’t be. He hadn’t seen anyone besides Kafrik during those final, torturous moments.

And the time between Kafrik’s supposed death and his own had been far too short.

That left only one, grim explanation.

A bitter smile tugged at his lips as the realization sank in.

"In the end... I wasn’t able to avenge her."

His voice trembled with hatred and frustration, yet he could only laugh at himself.

What did it matter now? He was already dead. And even if he were alive, the chance of true vengeance had always been slim.

There was nothing left to do, nothing but accept the cruel emptiness of it all.

Two streams of tears rolled down his cheeks as he knelt and pressed his forehead to the ground.

"I’m sorry, Charlotte," he whispered. "I couldn’t avenge you... and I couldn’t keep our promise to be together forever."

He slammed his head against the ground, begging for forgiveness, not only for failing to avenge her, but for breaking the vow they had once shared.

"You once asked me to stay with you for my whole life," he choked out, voice trembling. "I didn’t answer then... I thought I’d tell you later."

Memories of her smile, her voice, her warmth, each one stabbed at his heart.

"Then that disaster happened," he wept, "and I told myself I’d answer you when we met in the afterlife..."

His voice cracked. "But... even in... death... I wasn’t able to meet you."

"I’m sorry, Charlotte... I wasn’t worthy of your love."

Vivian continued to weep, his forehead striking the cold surface of the white void again and again, until it happened.

"Vivian."

A clear voice called from behind him.

It carried a warmth he hadn’t felt in what seemed like eternity, a warmth he had longed for with every fiber of his being.

Vivian froze. His whole body trembled as hope flared in his chest.

His heart pounded painfully, torn between disbelief and desperate yearning.

Yet he didn’t turn around.

He couldn’t.

Some part of him feared that if he looked, the illusion would shatter, and she would vanish once more.

"Aren’t you going to look?"

The voice spoke again, calm, filled with that same quiet longing.

"Don’t be afraid. What you fear... it won’t happen."

The tenderness in the tone reached straight into Vivian’s chest.

His body shook, eyes trembling with disbelief and hope fighting within him.

Slowly, almost against his will, he turned around.

"C–Charlotte?" he whispered, his voice breaking as her name left his lips.

The voice came from a small, radiant sphere, a white ball of light that seemed to outshine even the endless void around them.

Vivian stared at it, confusion clouding his mind. ’Was this... Charlotte?’

The warmth in its voice felt exactly like hers, the same comfort that had once anchored his soul.

And yet, it was only light, no face, no form, just brilliance. His chest tightened with anxiety as he waited for an answer.

But the ball of light remained silent.

The stillness stretched endlessly, as though the void itself were holding its breath, testing his patience.

At last, after a long hesitation, the light spoke again, softly, with a trace of sorrow.

"I cannot tell you now. But when the time comes... and when you are ready... I will."

Vivian stared at the ball of light, and a bitter smile, one belonging to someone who had already lost everything, slowly crept across his face.

"So... you aren’t Charlotte after all."

He had feared this the most.

When he hesitated to look, it wasn’t out of doubt, but terror, that the voice he’d heard, the warmth he’d felt, would turn out to be just another cruel trick of the void.

And now that fear had come true.

’Even in death,’ he thought, ’I still can’t be with you.’

The ball of light remained silent. Whether it chose not to speak or simply couldn’t, Vivian couldn’t tell.

But within its gentle glow, something like sorrow stirred, an ache that shimmered faintly, as though the light itself were grieving.

As an unbearable silence settled over the void, the ball of light suddenly flared, its glow piercing through the endless white.

"Vivian," it said, its voice firm yet tender. "I cannot reveal what I am... but know this, I am neither a trick nor an illusion."

"..."

There was no response. Vivian’s gaze remained fixed on the empty ground, his eyes hollow, his face void of emotion.

The ball of light dimmed slightly, as if sighing. "And I didn’t come here to watch you sink into despair, either."

There was still no response from Vivian. The silence lingered, heavy and unmoving.

Yet the ball of light continued, its voice steady and patient.

"I’m here to give you another chance, to change everything. To save yourself... to save—"

It hesitated, its glow flickering faintly before finishing in a quiet, trembling tone. "—to save Charlotte."

Vivian’s body stirred.

His head lifted slightly, and at last his eyes met the radiant sphere.

But the hollowness in them remained, as if he feared those words were not a blessing, but another cruel curse waiting to break him all over again.

The ball of light ached as it looked into Vivian’s hollow eyes, eyes where nothing human seemed to remain. But its voice stayed steady.

"I will give you this chance to change everything. Tell me, Vivian... will you accept it?"

There was a firmness in its tone, though strangely, it sounded as if granting this chance hurt it more than it helped him.

Vivian let out a hollow chuckle. "You people, whoever you are. Gods, spirits, or something else, you’re really heartless. Even after death, you still find a way to give me hope?"

The ball of light said nothing. Its silence hung like a wound that couldn’t close.

Vivian’s laughter deepened, ragged and bitter. "It’s true then, God really is ruthless. I never did anything wrong. Not in this life, not in the last. Yet you made me suffer over and over again."

His gaze lifted to the light, a mocking smile twisting his lips. "And now, even in death, you’re still tormenting me? How cruel."

He laughed again, not at the light, but at himself. "I was such a fool... thinking I could live a decent life. Maybe that was my real sin, hoping for happiness when even the heavens couldn’t stand to see it."

The ball of light sighed softly, its glow flickering like a breath in the stillness.

"Vivian," it said, "I’m not giving you false hope. And if you truly don’t believe me... then tell me, you’re familiar with the system, aren’t you?"

The word struck him like a spark in the dark. For the first time, a faint gleam returned to Vivian’s hollow eyes.

"System?" he whispered, his voice trembling. "Are you talking about... the blue screen I saw after transmigrating?"

He leaned forward slightly, a fragile thread of hope tugging at his chest.

If it was that system, the strange power that had appeared when he became Vivian, then perhaps some of his questions could finally be answered.

"Yes," the ball of light said, its tone steady. "I’m talking about the same system you received after transmigrating into this world as Vivian."

"Then... then are you the system?" Vivian’s voice trembled as the questions tumbled out, one over the other. "Were you the one who transmigrated me? Why was I brought here, as Vivian, my own character? And why is this world so different from the one I wrote?"

He kept asking, breathless, desperate for truth after so long in silence. But the ball of light only answered, gently, "It is not time yet."

That single phrase struck like a spark on dry tinder. Frustration flared inside him.

"Not time yet?" he repeated bitterly. "I’m already dead! What time are you waiting for?"

His voice shook, anger giving way to despair. "What can you even do to change it? Reincarnate me?"

He let out a hollow laugh. "Then I’m sorry, but I don’t want it. Without Charlotte, there’s no meaning in living."

He stared at the glowing sphere, eyes burning. "So what’s left? Sending me back in time? You’re not omnipotent, so stop giving me hope."

The ball of light sighed as it looked at the trembling Vivian.

"You’re right," it said softly. "I am not omnipotent... but I can send you back in time."

Vivian’s breath caught. For a heartbeat, he could only stare, unsure if he’d heard correctly.

The ball’s glow began to intensify, its light spilling into every corner of the void until even the emptiness seemed to tremble.

"This is your last chance," it said, its voice echoing through the white expanse. "Don’t waste it, Vivian."

The air or whatever passed for it in that strange place, began to hum.

The void itself shuddered, threads of light unraveling from the blank expanse and spiraling toward the radiant sphere.

The ball shone brighter and brighter, until its glow devoured even the whiteness around it.

Vivian stared at the ball of light, dumbfounded, as the white void around him began to collapse.

In an instant, everything, space, silence, light, was drawn toward the radiant sphere.

"Remember this, Vivian," the light said, its voice trembling with strain. "The system will no longer aid you. Its power is being used... right now."

The glow grew fiercer, flooding his vision until he could barely see.

The voice wavered, each word thinning beneath the rising hum of energy.

"But when you are strong enough... I will answer every question you carry."

The light’s brilliance reached its peak. Its voice, now little more than a whisper, shuddered through the radiance.

"Until then... goodbye, my... l—... Vivian."

And with that final flicker of sound, the light shattered, swallowing the void and Vivian both in a storm of blinding brilliance.