Chapter 54: The Memory That Wasn’t Hers

Rhaevia remained completely still in the center of the lavish private cabin. Her mother’s trembling words continued to echo through the heavy, quiet room like a bell.

"That wasn’t your memory," the Duchess repeated, her hand hovering in midair.

For several agonizing seconds, neither woman spoke. Rhaevia stared at her mother, her mind moving rapidly through every possibility while her Guide core thrummed with residual energy.

"What did you see?" Rhaevia finally asked, keeping her tone carefully controlled.

Her mother’s expression remained pale, the usual regal composure of the Rythundeir Ducal House completely shattered.

"It wasn’t like an ordinary memory," she whispered, slowly lowering her hand to her side. "When I touched your consciousness to check your core, I expected to find the familiar mental pathways of my daughter. Instead, something else brushed against my mind."

Rhaevia’s brows furrowed as she took a small step forward. "Something else?"

"A consciousness," her mother replied, her eyes wide with lingering shock. "It was deeply buried beneath your current mental domain, almost as though it had been sealed behind layers of your present identity."

Rhaevia’s breathing slowed to a deliberate, measured rhythm. A hidden consciousness, buried inside her soul.

The Duchess’s description immediately dragged her thoughts back to Earth. She remembered the horrific apocalypse, the ruined cities, the countless corpses, and the armies she had commanded. She remembered facing the Zombie King and the sensation of her final breath on the battlefield.

Those memories had always felt real, far too vivid to be brushed aside as mere dreams. But until now, Rhaevia had assumed they belonged to her single previous life on Earth before she transmigrated into this body.

She had awakened inside this interstellar body carrying those recollections, which had felt impossible enough on its own. Yet her mother had just seen something beyond those Earth memories. Something far older, buried even deeper beneath her current core.

"Mother..." Rhaevia’s voice became quieter, dropping to a low, guarded murmur. "What if the memories you saw weren’t from Earth?"

Her mother’s eyes sharpened instantly, focusing on her daughter with intense curiosity.

Rhaevia slowly looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers as she organized her thoughts. "I remember another life before this one, long before I woke up in this body. Earth. I was born there, lived there, and became a military commander during an apocalypse."

Her mother listened in absolute silence, her posture rigid as she absorbed the unbelievable admission.

"I fought for humanity until the very end, and I remember dying on the battlefield," Rhaevia continued, her voice remarkably calm despite her distant gaze. "I truly thought that was my previous life."

The Duchess reached toward her daughter’s hand, wrapping her warm fingers around Rhaevia’s trembling wrist.

Rhaevia swallowed hard, meeting her mother’s gaze once more. "But now... I’m no longer certain."

The underlying possibility was terrifying to contemplate. If her Earth memories were not the oldest memories inside her, then how many lives had existed before them?

How many times had she been born into different eras across the galaxy? How many times had she died, and how much of herself had been forgotten with every reincarnation cycle?

Her mother’s expression suddenly softened, the fear melting away into pure, unconditional warmth.

"You don’t have to tell me anything else," she murmured.

Rhaevia blinked, genuinely caught off guard. "I don’t?"

"No," her mother replied softly, giving her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "Whatever you saw, whatever you remember, and whatever you are becoming..." She smiled faintly. "You are still my daughter."

Rhaevia’s chest tightened as a wave of genuine emotion washed over her.

Her mother continued in a gentle tone, "I will not force you to explain memories you aren’t ready to understand."

Rhaevia stared at her, searching for any sign of hesitation. There was no fear in her mother’s eyes, no suspicion or rejection. There was only absolute acceptance.

Something inside Rhaevia slowly loosened, letting go of a tension she hadn’t realized she was holding.

"Thank you," Rhaevia whispered.

Her mother pulled her into a gentle, protective embrace. Rhaevia remained still for a second before wrapping her arms around her mother, leaning into the comfort. The warmth was still unfamiliar compared to her harsh past life, but it was no longer frightening.

Later that night, Rhaevia lay alone in her assigned quarters aboard the Rythundeir flagship. The lights were dimmed to a soft blue glow while the massive vessel glided silently through hyperspace, surrounded by endless darkness and distant stars.

She stared at the metallic ceiling, unable to stop the endless stream of questions. How many lives have I actually lived?

Earth had been one life, and her current existence as the Rythundeir daughter was another. But if her mother’s vision truly belonged to an existence before Earth, then there was a third. Perhaps there were even more scattered across the centuries.

Rhaevia slowly closed her eyes, letting her consciousness drift. Who was I before Earth?

Sleep eventually claimed her exhausted body, but it did not bring peaceful darkness. It brought a vivid dream of a world she had never seen before.

A vast silver palace floated majestically above an endless sea of stars, its ancient towers stretching toward a crimson galaxy. Thousands of strange, ethereal creatures knelt in solemn reverence beneath a massive celestial throne.

And standing directly before that throne was a woman.

She possessed long, flowing silver hair that shimmered under the starlight, and her eyes glowed with an unfamiliar azure light. She wore magnificent black-and-silver armor covered in ancient crimson symbols, and a strange crown rested upon her head.

Rhaevia watched the woman in stunned silence. Then, as if sensing her presence, the woman slowly turned around.

Their eyes met across the vast expanse of the dreamscape. Rhaevia’s heart stopped in her chest.

Because the woman’s face was undeniably her own.

The silver-haired woman smiled faintly, looking as though she had been waiting for this return for centuries. Behind her, an ancient voice echoed through the stars, reverberating through Rhaevia’s very soul.

"My Sovereign."