In every lifetime, I find you-but you never remember me. A thousand faces, a thousand years, and yet I am always the stranger, never the lover. I've searched for you across centuries, hoping that this time, you'll see me, that this time, you'll recall the love we once shared. But the years are cruel, and my immortality, a curse I carry alone. Will you remember? Or will I fade into another forgotten past, lost forever in the endless cycle? -Yours, always, Solar A 「Immortal!Boboiboy Solar × TimeTraveler!Reader」Fanfiction © IrisMyCase Boboiboy Galaxy (Solar) © Monsta Studios Illustration Cover © @naho_rude (From Instagram) Idea Reference © Some People On Reddit Inspired by @mar_iyum_e 's "Matryoshka"

Mercy is easier when the world isn't starving. if survival demands cruelty everytime, then what actually survives? The world did not end with fire. It ended with petals that can pierce flesh. Power does not corrupt the heart, it merely removes the the curtains hiding it Even the purest flower drinks from graves beneath its soil. Do everything can be a miracle gifted by the nature? Or merely a curse? Hope is a candle that survives by teaching itself how to burn slowly. Let us ponder in a world where a garden does not ask permission before it devours the ruin beneath it. ----------------------------------------------------------------- [ IMPORTANT NOTICE: "Some" parts of this story is written in a poetic and philosophical style. Some dialogues, symbols, and meanings may not be immediately understood, as they are to be felt as much as they are read. The world within these pages speaks in silence, metaphors(some), and emotion. Interpretations may differ from person to person - and that is part of the story itself. Read slowly. The garden does not bloom for hurried eyes] ---------------------------------------------------------------- [Warning: This story contains violence, grief, and moments of human cruelty. Not all wounds in this world are made by monsters.] ----------------------------------------------------------------- Author's Note: This story was born from silence, ruin, and the strange beauty of survival. Thank you for stepping into the garden. -----------------------------------------------------------------

"The world doesn't care about your stories. It only cares if you're still breathing." Eight hundred years after the collapse of the Zenith Era, humanity endures in the shadow of a forgotten science they have come to worship as divine: the Vein. In the East, the Sanctum of Aurelion enforces purity through fire that burning those whose blood carries the so-called sin of impurity. In the West, the Aurex Consortium refines human existence into a resource, feeding their vast industrial engines with the life-force of the desperate through a merciless system known as the Vein Tax. Vael is not a hero. He is a ghost walking a world reduced to ash. There is something wrong with him, something that keeps him standing when he shouldn't be, and leaves him emptier each time it does. He remembers nothing of what came before, only a cold, persistent instinct to keep moving. He does not seek to save the world; to him, hope is merely a slower way to die. But something long buried has begun to stir again, something even the Sanctum's fire was never able to truly erase. The Black Vein. It is not simply a disease. It is a refusal. A fracture in the system itself. A remnant of something older, something that should have remained forgotten. And somewhere within its silence, something is watching, through their eyes. Something that remembers a world before it turned to ash. When a fractured resonance draws Vael into the orbit of a girl protecting a forbidden truth, and a High Executioner whose faith has hardened into something unbreakable, he is forced to move through a land where every form of power is born from suffering. In a world shaped by the Vein, the question is no longer who will survive. But what it means to remain human when your blood is no longer your own.