Two Weeks Later - October 15th
Nana woke up on her twenty-third birthday feeling strange.
Not sick. Not in pain. Just... alive. Breathing. Existing past the date that should have killed her.
For the first time in five lifetimes, she was twenty-three years old.
The realization hit her like a physical blow, and she found herself crying before she even got out of bed. Happy tears, sad tears, grateful tears, grief-stricken tears—all mixed together until she didn't know what she was feeling anymore.
She'd lived past twenty-three. Xavier's sacrifice had worked.
And he wasn't here to see it.
Nana spent the day in a daze. The Hunter Association had given her the day off—they'd been surprisingly understanding about her grief, even if they didn't know the full story. Her friends texted birthday wishes. Her team sent a cake to her apartment.
But all Nana could think about was Xavier. How in four previous lifetimes, he'd held her as she died one day before this birthday. How he'd buried her and mourned her and waited decades or centuries for her to return. How he'd finally broken the cycle by giving up everything.
As evening approached, Nana prepared for her ritual. But tonight was special. Tonight, she had something specific planned.She bought a birthday cake from Xavier's favorite bakery—small, simple, with white frosting and a single star decoration on top. She placed twenty-three candles around the star, forming a circle.
Then she added one more candle in the center, shaped like a star.
Twenty-four candles total. Twenty-three for her years. One for Xavier.
Nana carried the cake out to the balcony as the sun set. Xavier's star was already visible, shining bright and steady in its usual position.
"Hi,"
Nana said softly, setting the cake down on the small table they used to share meals at.
"It's me again. But today's special. Today is—" Her voice cracked.
"Today I'm twenty-three. I made it. I lived past the date that should have killed me."
She lit the candles carefully, one by one. The flames flickered in the evening breeze, casting warm light across the balcony.
"I bought a cake,"
Nana continued, her hands trembling slightly.
"With star candles. Because you're the star, and I'm—" She smiled through fresh tears.
"I'm your Starlight. Even now. Even with you so far away. I'm still your Starlight, and you're still my star."
The star above pulsed gently, steady as always.
Nana clasped her hands together in front of the cake, closed her eyes, and made her wish.
I wish to meet him again. In this life or the next, I don't care. I want to see those blue eyes that held centuries of love. I want to hear his voice calling me Starlight. I want to feel his hand in mine, warm and real and here.
Please—to whatever force governs our fate, to the universe that cursed us and separated us—please give us another chance. Let me find him again. Let him come back to me. I don't care how long it takes. I don't care what I have to sacrifice. Just... please. Let me love him again.
Nana opened her eyes, tears streaming down her face, and blew out the candles.
All except the star-shaped one in the center. That one she left burning.
"There," she whispered.
"My birthday wish. The only thing I want in this entire universe—to meet you again, Xavier. To love you again. To finally, finally have a lifetime together where neither of us has to die."
She looked up at Xavier's star through blurred vision.
The clock on her phone showed 11:47 PM. In thirteen minutes, it would be midnight. In thirteen minutes, she would officially be past the danger zone. Past the age where the curse would have claimed her.
"I wish you were here," Nana said softly.
"I wish you could celebrate with me. Wish you could see that your sacrifice worked. That I'm alive and healthy and past twenty-three. Xavier—"
Her voice broke completely.
"I understand now. I understand how you felt after losing me four times. The grief. The sorrow. The aching emptiness of living in a world without the person you love most."
She hugged herself, Xavier's sweater wrapped tight around her shoulders.
"It's unbearable. Every day is a battle. Every breath hurts because you're not breathing too. Every smile feels wrong because you're not here to share it. How did you survive this for centuries? How did you keep going after watching me die over and over?"
The star pulsed brighter, and somehow, Nana heard the answer in her heart:
Because I knew you'd come back. Because hope is stronger than grief. Because loving you—even through the pain—was worth every moment.
"But I don't have that hope,"
Nana sobbed. "You can't come back. Stars don't reborn like humans. You gave up that chance to save me. So this—"
She gestured at the empty space around her.
"This is it. This is all I get. A long life without you. Decades of looking up at you every night and knowing I'll never touch you again."
Her phone buzzed. Midnight. October 16th.
She was officially twenty-three years old. Had been for exactly one minute.
For the first time in five lifetimes, she'd survived her curse date.
Nana should have felt relieved. Triumphant. Grateful.
Instead, she just felt hollow.
"Happy birthday to me,"
she whispered bitterly.
"I'm alive. I made it. I broke the curse."
She looked up at Xavier's star.
"Are you proud? Is this what you wanted? Me, alive but miserable? Existing but not living? Breathing but not feeling alive?"
The star dimmed slightly, and Nana immediately felt guilty.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly.
"I'm sorry, Xavier. I know you wanted me to be happy. Wanted me to live fully. I'm trying, I swear I'm trying. But it's so hard without you. Everything is so hard."
She wiped her tears and forced herself to smile.
"But I'll keep trying. For you. Because you gave up everything for me to have this chance. So I'll make it count. I'll live the life you wanted me to have. Even if—"
Her voice wavered.
"Even if every moment of that life is spent missing you."
Nana picked up her notebook—the one where she'd been writing their story. She'd filled three notebooks already, and this fourth one was nearly complete.
"The book is almost done," she said softly.
"I've written everything I remember. Every lifetime, every death, every moment of love and loss. The last chapter is about you fading into stardust. About how you broke the curse. About how—" She swallowed hard.
"About how you became the brightest star in the sky."
She opened the notebook to show the star.
"I'm going to publish it. Share our story with the world. So everyone knows what you did. So they know that love can transcend death, defy curses, span centuries. So they know that once, a very long time ago, the Crown Star of Philos loved a girl named Nana so much that he gave up heaven itself."
The star twinkled steadily, and Nana smiled through her tears.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"For everything. For four lifetimes of love. For breaking my curse. For—"
Her voice broke.
"For choosing me. Every single time. Xavier, I love you. I'll always love you. Until my last breath, until I join you in the stars, until the universe itself ends—I'll love you."
She stood, walked to the edge of the balcony, and reached up toward Xavier's star—knowing it was impossible to touch, knowing the distance was insurmountable, but reaching anyway.
"Someday," Nana promised. "Someday, I'll find a way back to you. Whether in this life or the next, whether I have to search every corner of the universe or wait a thousand lifetimes—I'll find you again. That's my promise to you, Xavier. You never gave up on me across centuries. I won't give up on you now."
The star pulsed bright and steady—a heartbeat, a promise, a reminder that love could survive even the impossible distance between Earth and sky.
And for the first time since Xavier had faded, Nana felt something other than grief.She felt hope.
Fragile, tentative hope that maybe—just maybe—this wasn't the end of their story.
That maybe, somehow, the universe that had cursed them would also grant them mercy.
That maybe, against all odds and cosmic laws, they would find each other again.
Nana didn't know how. Didn't know when. Didn't know if it was even possible.
But she would try.
For Xavier. For their love. For the five lifetimes they'd shared and the countless more she hoped were coming.
She would keep living. Keep hoping. Keep believing.
Even if it took forever.
Even if she had to move heaven and earth—or in this case, reach the stars themselves.
Nana looked up at Xavier's star one more time, smiled through her tears, and whispered:
"Wait for me, Xavier. However long it takes. Wait for me."
And in the vast emptiness of space, a star burned bright.
Waiting.
Always waiting.
For his Starlight to find her way home.
.
.
.
.
.
One Week After the Book Release
"Philos: When the Crown Star Landed on Earth" had been published for exactly seven days.
Nana held a copy of the book in her hands as she sat on a park bench, her bubble tea forgotten beside her.
The cover showed a star falling toward Earth, trailing stardust, reaching for something just out of frame. The title was embossed in silver, catching the afternoon sunlight.
Her story. Their story. Finally real, tangible, permanent.
The book had already started gaining attention—readers were calling it "the most beautiful tragedy ever written,"
"a love story that transcends time," "devastatingly perfect."
Some people thought it was pure fiction. Others sensed the truth buried in the narrative.
Nana didn't care either way. She'd written it for Xavier. For the universe to know what he'd sacrificed. For their love to outlive even them.
She traced the star on the cover with her finger, remembering Xavier's face when he'd smiled, when he'd laughed, when he'd looked at her like she was his entire world.
The park around her was full of couples.
Young lovers holding hands, laughing together, sharing bubble tea, giving piggyback rides.
Normal couple things that Nana and Xavier had done too—once upon a time, back on Philos when they were just kids. Back in the Valley Kingdom when he was her knight. Back in the Qing Dynasty when he was her husband.
Back in this lifetime, when he was her neighbor and friend and the love of her existence.
Oh, Xavier, Nana thought, her chest aching with the familiar grief that never quite went away. I miss you. I miss you so much it still hurts to breathe.
She pulled out her phone, opened her gallery. Photos she'd taken secretly over their months together—Xavier asleep on the couch, his face peaceful and soft. Xavier sulking after she'd beaten him at a card game, his pout ridiculous and adorable.
Xavier covered in flour after attempting to make egg tarts and somehow setting the kitchen on fire.
"I followed the recipe exactly!"
he'd protested, looking genuinely confused at the smoking disaster.
"Xavier, the recipe doesn't say 'set oven to inferno,'"
Nana had laughed until she cried.
"It said 400 degrees!"
"In Celsius, not as a general life philosophy"
The memory made Nana smile even as tears blurred the photos. Xavier had been terrible at cooking. Excellent at everything else—fighting, strategy, protecting people, loving her across lifetimes—but absolutely hopeless in the kitchen.
She missed that. Missed his rare smiles. Missed his quiet presence. Missed theway he'd poke her cheeks when she ate. Missed his voice calling her Starlight like it was her true name.
Nana was about to head home when her hunter watch flickered urgently.
Emergency alert. Red priority.
She was on her feet instantly, bubble tea forgotten, the book clutched in one hand as she checked the alert details.
Massive Wanderer attack. Downtown Linkon. Multiple breaches. Civilian casualties already reported. All available hunters respond immediately.
"Shit," Nana muttered, already running toward the coordinates. She tapped her comm.
"This is Hunter Nana, responding to downtown emergency. ETA three minutes. What's the situation?"
"Multiple high-level Wanderers,"
the dispatcher's voice was tight with stress.
"They appeared simultaneously in a residential area. We have civilians trapped. Team Seven is already engaged but they're overwhelmed. We need immediate backup."
"On my way."
Nana ran faster, her light footfalls barely touching the ground. Her aether core hummed in her chest—ready, eager, dangerous. She'd gotten better at controlling it over the past year, at using it without draining herself completely.
But she also knew her limits. Knew that pushing too hard could still kill her, curse or no curse.
I'll be careful, Nana promised Xavier's star, wherever it was in the daylight sky. I'll protect people and come home safe. Just like you always wanted.
She arrived at the scene to find chaos.
Wanderers—massive, twisted creatures with too many limbs and glowing cores—were tearing through the street.
Buildings collapsed. Cars overturned. Civilians screaming, running, hiding behind whatever cover they could find.
And in the middle of it all, a little girl. Maybe six years old, frozen in terror as a Wanderer loomed over her, its claws raised to strike.
Nana didn't think. Didn't calculate the risk.
Just moved.
Her gun was in her hand instantly, light bullets firing in rapid succession. The Wanderer turned toward her, attention diverted from the child. Good. That was the goal—make herself the target.
"Run!" Nana shouted at the girl. "RUN!"
But the child was paralyzed with fear, tears streaming down her face, unable to move.
Nana cursed and dodged left as the Wanderer's claw came down where she'd been standing a second before. She fired again, aiming for the creature's core, but it was too fast, too large, and there were more coming.
So many more.
"Hunter Nana!" One of her teammates appeared beside her, breathing hard. "We're outnumbered! Command is sending reinforcements but—"
"Get the civilians out!" Nana ordered. "I'll hold them here!"
"You can't take them all alone—"
"GO!"
Her teammate hesitated but obeyed, moving to evacuate the frozen civilians.
Nana turned back to the Wanderers, her aether core flaring to life in her chest.She could do this. She'd trained for this. Had survived hundreds of missions since Xavier died.
Had become one of the Hunter Association's top operatives specifically because she'd thrown herself into work as a distraction from grief.
She could protect these people. She would protect them.
For Xavier. For the sacrifice he'd made. For the life he'd given her.
Nana's aether core pulsed, energy flowing outward. She couldn't fight directly, but she could enhance her teammates, heal their wounds, boost their abilities. And she could use her resonance to destabilize the Wanderers' cores, make them vulnerable.
She pushed power outward—golden light exploding from her chest, wrapping around her scattered teammates, amplifying their strength.
They rallied immediately, fighting harder, moving faster.But there were too many Wanderers. And the little girl was still frozen in the middle of the chaos.
"Damn it," Nana muttered, and ran.
She scooped the child up mid-stride, tucked her against her chest protectively. The girl clung to her, sobbing.
"It's okay," Nana whispered. "I've got you. You're safe now."
She ran toward the evacuation point, dodging rubble and Wanderer attacks. Almost there. Almost safe. Just a few more meters—
Something massive materialized directly in front of her. A Wanderer unlike any she'd seen before—enormous, with a core that pulsed sickly green, its form more solid and defined than the others.
A boss-level threat.
Nana skidded to a stop, clutched the girl tighter. Her aether core was already depleted from enhancing her team. She didn't have enough left to—The Wanderer attacked.
Nana turned, shielded the child with her body, and fired her gun with her free hand. The bullets hit but barely slowed it down. The creature's claw came down like a guillotine.
Time seemed to slow.
Nana thought of Xavier. Of his smile when she'd given him the star plush. Of his tears when she'd finally remembered everything. Of his last words before he faded: Thank you. For every lifetime.
She thought: I'm sorry, Xavier. I promised I'd live. I promised I'd be careful. But I can't let this child die.
The Wanderer's claw connected with Nana's back, tearing through flesh and bone, piercing through to her chest cavity. Pain—white-hot, agonizing—exploded through her body.But she held on.
Held the little girl tight. Used the last of her aether core energy to create a barrier, protecting the child even as her own body was destroyed.
Nana felt herself falling. The ground came up fast. The little girl tumbled from her arms—unharmed, protected by Nana's barrier—and someone caught her. A teammate. Good. The child was safe.
That was all that mattered.
Nana lay on the rubble-strewn ground, her vision blurring.
Blood pooled beneath her. She could feel her life draining away, her aether core flickering like a dying flame.
I'm dying, she realized with strange clarity. After breaking the curse, after surviving past twenty-three, after everything—I'm dying anyway.
The irony would have been funny if it didn't hurt so much.
Faces appeared above her—her team, other hunters, the captain.
Someone was pressing hands against her wounds, trying to stop the bleeding. Someone else was screaming into a comm for medical support.
"Stay with us!" The captain's voice was desperate. "Nana, stay awake! Don't you dare die! We've got medics coming, you just need to—"
But Nana could barely hear them anymore. The world was getting dimmer, sounds fading to white noise. She felt cold. So cold. Like all the warmth was draining out of her along with her blood.
Her hand moved weakly to her chest, finding the space where her heart was still beating—slower now, irregular, failing.
Xavier, she thought. I'm sorry. I tried to live like you wanted. Tried to be happy, to protect people, to make your sacrifice mean something. But I—
The last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was a flash of brilliant light—golden and warm and somehow familiar, like Xavier's light evol had once been, reaching for her across the vast distance between life and death.
Then nothing.
.
.
.
.
.
⭐⭐⭐
To be continued ___