Chapter 3 – The Wish That Crossed Time 

Elena was falling.

Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

The world around her was weightless, a blur of color and shadow twisting together like ink in water. She couldn’t tell if she was dreaming or awake, but her body felt untethered, as if she had slipped through the cracks of reality itself.

A strange sensation coiled around her, pulling her deeper into the void. The pain in her chest, the suffocating grief that had lived inside her since Seon’s death—it all seemed distant now.

Somewhere, she heard a voice.

Soft. Unfamiliar.

“Are you willing to give everything to change fate?”

The words barely registered before she felt something—an invisible force pressing against her from all sides, squeezing her until she could hardly breathe.

And then—

A blinding light.

A sharp gasp.

A heartbeat hammering in her ears.

Elena’s body lurched forward as she woke, her chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. She was no longer in her apartment. No longer curled up on the floor, drowning in grief.

She was somewhere else.

The air smelled different—crisp, cold, carrying the faint scent of rain. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting long shadows against the walls.

Walls that weren’t hers.

Elena’s hands trembled as she pressed them against the mattress beneath her. The fabric was unfamiliar, smooth beneath her fingertips. Slowly, she turned her head, her heart pounding violently against her ribs.

And that’s when she saw him.

Seon.

Sitting across the room, his figure partially illuminated by the light.

Elena froze.

Her breath hitched, her entire body stiffening as if she had been struck by lightning. It wasn’t a photo. It wasn’t a recording.

It was him.

Real. Breathing. Alive.

He was looking at his phone, completely unaware of her presence. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he had just come back from work, his long fingers scrolling absently through the screen.

Elena’s world tilted.

Her stomach twisted violently.

This wasn’t possible.

Elena’s lungs burned as her chest heaved, her surroundings tilting violently as though the world itself had shifted. For a moment she thought she was still in Seon’s apartment—that she had truly gone back in time. But then the room dissolved. The walls bled away like wet paint, the light flickering until everything fell into black.

And then—

A screen appeared before her, glowing in the darkness. Large, distorted, like a projection onto the void itself. She stumbled back, her hands trembling, but there was nowhere to run. The image sharpened, and she realized what she was seeing.

It was him again. Seon…

But this wasn’t the polished image fans knew. He wasn’t standing beneath bright stage lights or smiling for a camera. He was in a dressing room—small, suffocating, lit by harsh white bulbs that cast deep shadows under his eyes. He looked… empty. His shoulders slumped, his hands shaking slightly as he sat before the mirror. The makeup hadn’t been removed yet, but the shine in his gaze was gone.

Elena’s heart lurched painfully. “Seon…” she whispered, her voice breaking.

He couldn’t hear her.

The scene shifted again, like a television reel fast-forwarding. She saw him surrounded by managers, executives, voices overlapping with demands. “You have to keep working.” “Fans are expecting more.” “Don’t complain, this is the price of fame.” The words piled over him like chains. His smile in interviews grew thinner, more brittle. Alone in his room, he buried his face in his hands, the silence pressing against him like a wall.

Elena pressed her palms against the invisible screen. “Stop—please stop! He needs help—someone help him!” Her voice echoed into nothing, unheard.

The reel wouldn’t stop.

It dragged her deeper. Now she was in his apartment—the night. She knew it instantly, a primal dread seizing her chest. Seon moved slowly, methodically, as though each step was heavier than the last. His face was wet, streaked with silent tears he had never shown anyone. He picked up his phone, stared at it for a long time. His lips moved as though rehearsing words he’d never send.

Then, with trembling hands, he went to his desk, and wrote a letter. A casual update. A smile for the world that was already slipping from his grasp.

Elena was sobbing now, beating against the invisible barrier, desperate to break through. “Don’t do this! Please, don’t—Seon, I’m here! Look at me!”

But he never did.

The scene swallowed her whole. His final moments blurred into unbearable clarity—the silence, the suffocating loneliness, the final surrender. And then it was over. Darkness again.

Elena fell to her knees, her breath ragged, her body shaking uncontrollably. The desperation carved into her chest was unbearable. She had seen the truth—not the headlines, not the shallow tributes, but the real suffering he carried until the very end.

Then—

A voice, vast and resonant, filled the void. It wasn’t human. It was deep, otherworldly, vibrating through her bones.

“You have seen his fate.”

Elena’s head shot up, tears streaking down her cheeks.

“Are you certain you wish to change it? To rewrite what has already been written? To pull him back from the edge when he has already stepped beyond?”

The darkness pulsed around her, the weight of the voice crushing.

“Know this, Elena. To alter his fate, you must give something in return. Not money. Not time. Your life. To save him, you must surrender yourself. Your existence for his.”

The silence after those words was deafening. Her pulse thundered in her ears.

Elena clutched her chest, gasping, as the weight of the choice pressed down on her. She could still hear Seon’s broken laughter echoing in her head, the way his shoulders had trembled when no one was watching.

The voice spoke once more, final and absolute:

“So, Elena… do you accept the risk? Will you give everything to change his fate?”

Elena’s body shook, her knees digging into the nothingness beneath her as the weight of the voice echoed in her skull.

“Your life for his.”

The words reverberated like iron chains snapping shut.

Her throat tightened. “My… my life?” Her voice cracked, fragile against the vastness of the void.

“Yes.”
The voice was steady, merciless. “A soul cannot be pulled back from death without another taking its place. Fate is not a thread to be cut lightly. If you choose this path, you will cease to exist in your world. You will belong to his time, his fate, until the end.”

Elena’s heart thundered. Images flashed through her mind—her lonely apartment, the empty desk at her job, the hollow chatter of her co-workers. A life that had always felt borrowed, incomplete. And then, Seon’s smile. That smile that had once pulled her from the edge of despair, that had lit the darkest corners of her solitude.

How could she hesitate?

Tears streaked down her face as she clenched her fists. “I don’t care what it costs. He doesn’t deserve this. If I can save him… then take whatever you want. Take me.”

The void trembled. For the first time, the voice softened, though it remained immense.

“You are certain. Even knowing what awaits him—the weight of his world, the demons he cannot easily escape—you will step into the fire for him?”

“Yes,” Elena whispered, her voice breaking but resolute. “He was there for me when no one else was. He gave me strength when I had nothing. If I can give that back—even once—then let me be the one to carry the pain.”

Silence followed. Heavy. Absolute.

And then—

The darkness shattered. A blinding light surged around her, pulling her upward, faster and faster until she could hardly breathe. Her body felt like it was being unraveled thread by thread, her soul stretched across time itself.

She screamed, but her voice was swallowed by the light.

Then—impact.

Her eyes flew open. She was no longer in the void. She was back in her apartment. No longer a spectator of his suffering.

She was standing in a dimly lit room. The air was heavy, suffocating. Her gaze darted wildly—and froze. She saw her own reflection in the mirror.

Was it a dream?