I died at exactly 5:42 PM.
That was the only thing I was certain of that day.

There was no white light at the end of the tunnel.
No angel descending with wings outstretched.
Only the helpless screech of tires, headlights slicing through the rain straight into my eyes, and then—the crash.

Fast.
Cold.
Then everything went black.

...

I opened my eyes.
Hospital ceiling.
The sharp smell of disinfectant.
The steady beeping of a heart monitor.

I was alive?

No. That couldn't be right. I knew it—I had died.

Something was... off.

A voice echoed in my head, distorted like a broken recording, but I heard every word clearly:

"Rebooting ego. Attempt number three."

I jolted upright. My head throbbed like it had been cracked open.
A nurse rushed into the room, probably triggered by the sudden spike on the monitor.

"You're awake? That's amazing! That crash looked brutal, and you only got a few scratches... NOIR is incredible, isn't it?"

I didn't answer.

I looked at my hands. No cuts.
My body functioned normally.
But I remembered—lying in the middle of the street, blood pouring from my chest, unable to breathe or move. And then... nothing.

And now I was here.

NOIR.
The world's first biological resurrection system.
Implanted at birth.
When a person "dies," NOIR automatically reboots all vital functions within 180 seconds.
That's why no one in Avalon ever truly dies.

I used to believe that.
Until today.
Until I woke up... with the memory of my own death.

Not a dream. Not a hallucination.
I died.
And this wasn't the first time.