The air was thick with dread.
Ramona's breath came in short, shallow bursts. Her hands were bound, but she made no move to break free — not yet. The crowd's silence weighed heavily on her, and she felt the tension in the air, thick like smoke.
Behind her, the executioner's blade gleamed cold and sharp. But it wasn't the blade that drew her attention — it was Ian Hambelbreg, standing with his self-righteous look.
"Ramona Ellette Rhostein," he announced, his voice full of certainty. "You are accused of treason against the crown and working with forces that threaten this kingdom. Your crimes cannot be forgiven. You were a fool to think you could escape."
Ramona's gaze stayed on the cold stone beneath her knees. Her heart sank, knowing that this was it — the end of her life as Ramona.
But then… something changed.
A sudden flash of memory hit her, sharp and overwhelmShe thought it was funny, how people had always praised her, cheered for her work and achievements. The way they saw her as untouchable, a strong, intelligent woman, someone who could only protect herself and no one else.
Then, it hit her. Where did that memory come from?
It wasn't from this life.
It was from her past life.
In that moment, everything clicked. She remembered who she used to be — a scientist. Not just any scientist, but one with the power called Knowledge. It was a power that allowed her to advance beyond what anyone thought possible. She had used it to push the boundaries of technology, to solve problems, and to create innovations that truly helped humanity. Her mind had been her greatest tool — and it had guided her through life, always pushing her to seek more, to understand more.
She had loved research. She had thrived on discovering new things, solving complex problems, and assisting in advancing technology that changed the world for the better. That passion, that drive — it all flooded back in an instant.
Her body reacted before she could stop it. The ropes snapped as if they were nothing. The guards charged — but she was already moving, faster than they could respond, stronger than she had ever been.
She wasn't just Ramona anymore. She was something far more dangerous — someone with the knowledge to destroy them all if she chose.
And Ian? He would soon regret ever thinking she was weak,
Ramona ran.
Her bare feet scraped against the stone halls as alarm bells roared behind her. The sound of armored boots echoed through the corridors of the palace — her palace — now turned into a prison. Crimson banners that once bore her family crest fluttered like blood-soaked memories in the night wind.
She didn't look back.
Every breath burned in her throat, and the taste of iron clung to her tongue. She'd lost track of how long she'd been running. All she knew was that they were close — the palace guards, the executioners, her betrayers. Dogs of the noble court, chasing the ghost of a princess they had already condemned.
A shout echoed through the halls.
"There she is! Don't let her escape!"
Ramona gritted her teeth. Her white nightgown — once silk and dignity — now hung in tatters, soaked in rain and ash. Cuts lined her arms and legs from breaking through thorny hedges and broken window glass, but she didn't stop. She couldn't. Not when the truth had yet to be unearthed. Not when the fire in her mind still burned brighter than their lies.
She ducked through a forgotten servant's passage — one she remembered from childhood. Dust choked the air, and cobwebs brushed against her face. The tunnel led her beyond the walls, out into the castle's darkened outskirts.
But the soldiers were relentless.
Through courtyards, over ledges, across the misty river — they followed like wolves. Her strength waned. Her legs trembled. It was only a matter of time—
Then the earth gave out beneath her.
She slipped — no, was pulled — into a fissure that hadn't been there a moment ago. It opened like a wound in the world. Cold, foul-smelling mist coiled around her body, dragging her downward into a maw that yawned beneath the very roots of the palace grounds.
She didn't scream. There was no time.
The Descent
There was no sound. No sky. No pain.
Only falling.
Her breath vanished. Gravity had no meaning. The world stretched and convulsed around her, like she'd torn through the seams of reality itself. She saw flickers — pale faces, teeth in the dark, chains floating in black waters. She reached for the light — but there was none.
Then her body hit the ground.
Moss. Mud. Silence.
She lay still, dazed, covered in earth and strange ash. No stars. No moon. Only a crimson haze above a forest so twisted, so unnatural, it didn't even whisper — it watched.
Ramona rose to her feet. Her heart still hadn't returned. Her fingers were numb. Yet something in her blood whispered that this place was not unknown.
She had heard of it in old books. Places the court scholars scoffed at. Shadowfen Threshold — the borderland of the Abyss. A place where lost souls wept, and devils whispered dreams to the mad.
And now, somehow, she stood on its soil.
She didn't know how she got here, but she understood one thing:
This place wasn't hell.
It was the beginning.