Apocalypse: Transmigrated with an Overlord System-Chapter 245: Echoes of Snow and Tears

Xu Kai prepared everything himself—wild vegetables simmering with mushrooms, the rabbit meat cut into tender pieces and grilled over the flame, and a bowl of rice warming gently at the edge of the pot.

Liora sat nearby, watching him with a growing sense of comfort in her chest—like this moment, quiet and shared, was something rare she didn’t want to lose.

liora barely stopped smiling through the meal. Everything tasted better when eaten under the stars. She even offered him half of the soft, oddly sweet fruit she had saved.

He didn’t say much, but his eyes lingered on her longer than usual.

After dinner, she helped him pack up, and when he yawned once—just once—she suggested he rest early.

"I’ll just sort through some system stuff," she said casually. "Need to organize today’s finds."

He gave her a brief nod, not questioning it.

And when he turned toward his part of the hut, she watched until he disappeared behind the curtain. Only then did Liora quietly walk over to her side of the hut.

She lowered herself onto the moss-covered corner layered with soft sheets—her temporary bed. The scent of earth and faint wildflowers clung to the air. She lay down slowly, folding her arms behind her head, staring at the ceiling beams for a moment.

The breeze filtered through the open slats, cool against her skin.

"Alright," she whispered to the quiet night. "Let’s do this."

The system responded gently, "Host, are you ready to proceed?"

She nodded. "Yes. I want to see... what was locked away."

"Beginning memory synchronization. Please lie down and remain still."

She followed the instruction, stretching out on the soft bed and closing her eyes.

Her heartbeat slowed, and as the system began the process, her last thought was not of fear—but hope. A strange part of her, buried deep inside, had always wondered: who had this body belonged to before? What pieces of the past still lived in her blood?

Now, maybe... she would finally know.

~~~

Darkness.

A weightless, floating kind of darkness, neither cold nor warm—just endless.

Then suddenly—

A sound.

Soft at first. Shaking breaths. Muffled sobs. Then louder. Sharper. A child’s cries, broken and raw.

The blackness peeled back like torn silk, revealing something... distant. Dim. Blurred by emotion more than time.

Liora found herself standing in a hazy space—light gray skies, soft snow falling in gentle, unhurried flakes. The ground beneath her feet was white and wet, and the wind carried a silence that hurt.

And then she saw it. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

A little girl, no older than five, was wailing uncontrollably. Her small body trembled with each hiccuping breath, her white hair tangled and messy as if she’d run through the wind. Her face was red and soaked with tears. But even through the blurring sorrow, Liora caught a glimpse of her eyes—cold blue, like melting ice over glass.

Someone knelt beside her. A teenage boy, not much older than fifteen, pulled her into his arms, holding her close. He was crying too—silent tears sliding down his pale cheeks, one hand cupped protectively behind her head.

Liora stared.

They looked... so similar.

White hair, like fresh snow. Blue eyes, sharp and too quiet for their age. The same bone structure. The same furrowed brow when hurting. They weren’t strangers—they were siblings.

And somehow, Liora felt it.

She felt that the little girl... was her.

She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. It wasn’t her current body—the face was different, rounder, smaller, and far more fragile—but the pain surging from that tiny frame felt like it had been sealed deep in her bones forever.

It was her.

And the boy...

Her breath caught.

He looked just like Atlas.

Not quite the same—he was younger, and his features still had the softness of youth—but there was no mistaking that calm, controlled sadness. That silent way of carrying someone else’s pain.

Liora stood still, watching it all like a bystander trapped behind a glass wall.

The memory moved.

Heavy footsteps approached. A tall man stepped into view, dressed in dark ceremonial robes. His face was severe—hard lines etched into a stoic expression—but there was something regal about him. Something ancient and proud.

And just like the children, he had that same snowy white hair. The same piercing blue eyes.

The moment the little girl saw him, her crying turned almost desperate. Her tiny body twisted in the boy’s arms as she reached out, her words choking on her breath.

"Papa..." she sobbed, "Mommy left... because of me...!"

The boy held her tighter, his grip trembling. But the man only knelt down slowly and placed a large, gloved hand on the girl’s back.

Liora’s chest ached. Her heart pounded louder.

She glanced up, and for the first time, noticed the setting.

A platform of carved stone. Candles flickering in the snow. And at the center... a single framed image of a beautiful woman placed on a raised altar of polished black wood. Flowers surrounded her—silver lilies, blue winterbloom. A silk cloth was draped below her portrait, and Liora instantly recognized the features of the woman in the frame.

She looked exactly like the little girl.

The soft, pale skin. The faint silver lashes. The icy, delicate beauty.

This was no ordinary memory.

It was a funeral.

And the woman... was their mother.

The grief hit her like a sudden storm, sharp and breathless. Liora could feel it not just in her head, but in her body—like the sorrow had imprinted itself into her soul. The little girl was breaking under the guilt. The boy—her brother—was trying to be strong, but was crumbling too. And their father... said nothing.

Just held them both.

Liora wanted to reach out, to scream that it wasn’t her fault. That no child should carry a weight like that.

But she couldn’t move.

She was trapped in the memory—watching through the little girl’s eyes. Feeling everything. Remembering what had been sealed away.

And the snow kept falling, quiet and endless.