Secret Of The Girls: Bab Yoona (Menyegel Kekuatan Suci)

Adrian Reeves had exactly two seconds left to live.

Most people claimed that, in the face of death, their entire lives flashed before their eyes. Adrian's didn't. Instead, all he could think about was a fictional villain.

Blinding headlights swallowed his vision as a deafening horn tore through the night. The truck was already too close. There was no escaping it.

Yet the last thought racing through Adrian's mind wasn't about his unfinished dreams, his family, or the life he was about to lose. It was about one man.

Cassian Nyx.

The villain deserved better. Not because he was powerful, not because he was feared, but because no one had ever truly stood beside him. They admired his strength until they needed someone to blame.

For three years, Adrian had faithfully followed every chapter of Chronicles of the Celestial Hero—more than eight hundred chapters filled with wars, betrayals, bloodshed, and broken promises.

Through it all, one character had remained unforgettable. Cassian Nyx. The most tragic character Adrian had ever read. The villain everyone feared. The monster everyone hated. The man Adrian pitied the most.

Cassian had never been born evil. Once, he had stood at humanity's side, protecting the very kingdom that would later abandon him. The people he saved branded him a monster; the comrades he trusted betrayed him; the kingdom he loved destroyed everything he held dear.

By the time the world called him the Demon Lord, there was nothing left to save. Even so, Adrian never believed Cassian deserved the ending the author gave him.

Adrian still remembered one particular chapter where Cassian had carried an injured little girl out of a burning village, shielding her from arrows with his own body. By sunset, the kingdom accused him of burning that very village. The child survived. Cassian became a monster.

"Bullshit," Adrian had muttered bitterly, his fingers tightening around his phone. Hundreds of comments flooded beneath the final chapter, praising the ending. Adrian couldn't understand them.

"How can you call this justice? He deserved a second chance... not an eternity alone."

That had been Adrian's final comment beneath the last chapter. If I were in this world, I'd save the villain. I'd change his fate.

Then the truck hit. Pain exploded through his body. The world shattered.

And then there was only darkness and silence.

There was no pain. No light. No sense of time. It felt as though the entire universe had stopped breathing, until voices echoed through the void.

“Interesting. This soul carries an unusual attachment.”

“To a story.”

“Should we grant the wish?”

“It would be amusing.”

“Do you believe one mortal can rewrite destiny?”

“No. But I am curious to watch him try.”

“Very well. Let the story welcome its unexpected guest.”

Adrian tried to speak. He couldn't. He had no mouth, no body, not even a heartbeat—only consciousness floating through warmth and light.

“Let us see whether he can truly change fate.”

“Send him.”

The warmth surrounding Adrian suddenly vanished. An invisible force seized his consciousness, and before he could understand what was happening, he was falling. Faster. Faster. Until even the light disappeared, as though the heavens themselves had thrown him into another world.

Gasp!

Adrian woke up screaming, his chest heaving violently as he bolted upright. For several seconds, he couldn't breathe. The last thing he remembered was death. So why was he alive?

His eyes darted around the unfamiliar room. Painted murals of angels and demons battling among clouds of gold and silver stretched across the ceiling. Sunlight streamed through enormous windows draped in silk curtains.

"What the hell..."

His heart hammered violently against his ribs. Cold sweat trickled down his back. Every instinct screamed that something was terribly wrong. Panic surged through him.

He threw aside the blankets and stumbled out of bed. The room was massive—larger than his entire apartment.

A mirror stood against the far wall. Adrian rushed toward it, and then froze.

The reflection staring back wasn't Adrian Reeves. Silver-white hair framed a handsome face, and blue-violet eyes shimmered beneath the morning light. His features looked carved from marble.

"No," his voice trembled. "No way."

He touched his face. Smooth skin. A different jawline, different eyes, different hair. His fingers trembled. "This isn't me..."

He stumbled back until his legs struck the edge of the bed. People didn't wake up in different bodies. That only happened in novels. The word sent a chill through him.

He pinched his arm hard. Ouch!

This wasn't a dream. Then what was it? A nightmare? Or had his soul truly crossed into another world?

Panic turning into full-blown hysteria, Adrian frantically rubbed his arms and slapped his cheeks lightly. "Am I losing my mind?!"

His eyes desperately searched the unfamiliar room. Expensive paintings, shelves filled with books, and a royal crest carved into the fireplace. Nothing belonged to Adrian Reeves.

Slowly, his gaze shifted toward the bedside table. A leather-bound journal rested there, with gold lettering gleaming across the cover:

Property of Prince Elian Ashford, Crown Prince of the Celestial Kingdom.

Adrian's breath caught. The name felt hauntingly familiar. Elian Ashford. A minor, arrogant royal from Chronicles of the Celestial Hero.

The realization struck him like another truck. His hands shook as he grabbed the journal. Inside, elegant handwriting filled the pages, and the date at the top read:

Spring, Year 312.

Adrian stared. Then stared again. The main story began in Year 327.

Which meant—"I'm fifteen years before the plot starts."

Which meant every tragedy, every betrayal, every death hadn't happened yet. The story hadn't begun. His heartbeat thundered. Everything was still ahead. The future remained unwritten. He still had time—time to stop every tragedy, time to change Cassian's future... or time to make everything even worse.

He remembered the ending. The villain whose fate had angered him enough to die. Cassian Nyx. The Demon Lord. The man Adrian had always wanted to save.

A bitter laugh escaped him. "What kind of cosmic joke is this?"

Slowly, he looked back toward the mirror. The face staring back at him belonged to Elian Ashford. The identity he now possessed. The future enemy of Cassian Nyx. The prince history would remember as the man who destroyed him.

Of all the people he could have become, the universe had chosen the worst possible one. Fate had a cruel sense of humor: the one person he wanted to protect would one day become his greatest enemy.

Adrian swallowed hard. Because he had just realized a terrifying truth: he hadn't been reborn as the villain or the hero. He had been reborn as the man destined to destroy the one person he wanted to save.

Knock, knock.

A knock echoed through the room. Adrian nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Your Highness?" A servant's voice sounded from the other side of the door. "His Majesty requests your presence at breakfast."

For a moment, Adrian simply stared at the door. None of this was a dream.

"I'm coming," he called awkwardly. The words felt strange leaving his mouth. Someone else's life had become his own. He was supposed to be a prince now.

After a quick struggle with clothes that looked far too complicated for any normal human being, Adrian finally managed to leave his room. The palace was even more impressive outside the bedroom. Massive marble hallways stretched endlessly, golden pillars lined the corridors, and servants bowed as he passed. Every time someone called him "Your Highness," Adrian resisted the urge to answer, You're talking to the wrong person. Because Adrian Reeves was already dead.

A maid eventually guided him into an enormous dining hall. At the far end of the table sat a man with silver hair streaked with gold—King Alaric Ashford, Elian's father. Adrian recognized him immediately from the novel.

The king set down his teacup before studying Adrian in silence. "You seem distracted today, Elian. You usually finish breakfast before I arrive. Today, you're barely touching your food."

Adrian's entire body stiffened. He was Elian. Not Adrian.

"Just didn't sleep well," he replied carefully.

The king studied him for a moment before nodding. "Understandable. Today is important."

A strange feeling settled in Adrian's stomach. Important? He didn't remember anything important happening when Elian was eighteen. In fact, the original novel barely mentioned this period at all, which meant one thing: something had already changed.

Before Adrian could ask, the dining hall doors opened. A knight stepped inside and bowed, his face pale with dread.

"Your Majesty. The delegation from the Demon Realm has arrived."

The king frowned. "Earlier than expected."

Adrian froze. The Demon Realm?

Adrian searched his memories frantically. No. This meeting never happened. Not in the original novel. Not fifteen years before the story began.

A cold feeling crawled down his spine.

"Their leader requests an audience," the knight continued, his voice trembling.

The king nodded. "Escort them inside."

Adrian's pulse quickened. The plot wasn't following the novel anymore.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the hall. An unnatural silence settled over the dining hall. Even the servants lowered their heads, and every pair of eyes turned toward the enormous doors. Adrian's heartbeat quickened for reasons he couldn't explain.

The doors opened slowly with a deafening creak.

Black boots stepped across the polished marble floor. One step. Then another.

Whoever had entered carried himself with the confidence of someone who feared absolutely nothing. The air itself seemed heavier, conversations died instantly, and even the palace knights unconsciously straightened. No one welcomed him, yet no one dared to disrespect him either.

Then Adrian saw him. Time seemed to stop. Adrian had imagined meeting Cassian countless times while reading the novel, but never like this. Never across a royal dining hall.

His fingers tightened around the edge of the chair. No... It couldn't be.

Walking at the front was a tall, elegant man dressed entirely in black. and crimson eyes glowed like burning embers in the morning light.

He looked exactly as Adrian remembered. No... even more breathtaking than the illustrations and fan art had ever captured.

Standing before him was the future Demon Lord himself.

Cassian Nyx wasn't supposed to be here.

Adrian's blood ran cold. The novel he thought he knew... had already been rewritten. And Cassian had arrived far, far too soon.