Her childhood was forged in shadows, and she was sharpened into a weapon, trained to be a ghost, a killer—an instrument of vengeance. The target: a decorated general who brought down her family.

But fate doesn't follow orders.

Just as Lara was about to execute her long-planned mission, everything spiraled out of control. A military convoy intercepted her escape route—escorting none other than the general himself. And then came the moment that changed everything.

A blinding crash. Screeching tires. Her body was thrown like a ragdoll, then darkness.

She had a fleeting recollection of another world, another lifetime where kings ruled the land with an iron fist.

But she woke up, and twelve long months had passed. 

She did not know where she was or who she was. She remembered nothing.

They told her different names.

A child with trembling hope whispered, “Mommy, your name is Moira Torres.”

Her doctor insisted, “Your admission slip says Larissa Reyes.”

A hardened general leaned close and commanded, “Remember who you are. Remember your mission.”

Then another general—dangerously calm, incredibly familiar—looked at her as if she mattered and asked, “Can I call you Lara?”

The name unlocked something buried deep in her soul.

Lara Norse Kromwel.
Daughter of General Odin Norse.
Empress of the First Empire.

But the man who watched her most closely dismissed it with cold certainty.
“This is the 21st century,” he said. “What nonsense are you spouting? What Empress?  You are my woman.  You can only be mine!"

Inside his private quarters, the air felt heavier, insulated from the world beyond. Thick curtains muted the daylight, and even the faint hum of the excavation outside seemed to vanish the moment Aquilo stepped in.


Artemio stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back.


"I sent Lara on a mission," he began, his voice low, measured. "Under the identity of Larissa Reyes. Her objective was to infiltrate the Norse household."


The words landed harder than they sounded.


"She survived," Artemio continued, finally turning, his sharp gaze cutting straight through Aquilo. "But she lost her memories."


Silence stretched between them—tight, suffocating.


"One of the reasons I had you transferred here," Artemio added, each word deliberate, "is to help her recover them. Familiar faces. Familiar presence. Sometimes… that's enough to pull someone back."


Chapter 168 - Rekindling Old Flames