Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!

The morning came sluggishly. Celeste, who had fallen asleep slumped over her dressing table, slowly opened her swollen eyes.

The tears she had spilled the night before were gone, yet the faint salt-stained tracks clung stubbornly to her cheeks.

Her lips parted weakly. "Ahh…" A sound slipped out, fragile. She clutched her head as if to keep it from splitting open.

A sharp, pulsating pain throbbed against her temples, drumming in maddening rhythm. "Shit… I cried a lot yesterday…"

The words were a croak, her throat raw and dry. She let out a bitter laugh that quickly twisted into another groan.

The headache persisted, unrelenting, pounding and thrumming.

"Fuck." She hissed the word between clenched teeth, pressing her palms harder into the sides of her skull. "I can't even get meds here… I should have put some in my damn inventory."

She tried to stand, but the chair she had been resting on toppled with a heavy thud, its legs scraping across the floor.

Celeste staggered toward the bathroom, dragging her body like it weighed a hundred kilos. The door opened with a creak, and a sharp draft of cold air brushed across her bare skin, making her shiver.

The sudden chill forced her awake, tearing away the remnants of sleep. Without hesitation, she stripped herself bare and lowered into the bathtub.

The water, warm and steaming, lapped gently at her skin. Its heat seeped slowly into her muscles, offering the first bit of solace she had felt in hours.

She sank deeper until her shoulders disappeared beneath the surface, until her bones no longer ached.

Bubble— bubble—

Her head slipped beneath the surface. The sound of the world muffled, replaced by the hollow echo of her heartbeat. In that submerged silence, memories began to flood back in jagged flashes.

She clenched her eyes shut, bubbles escaping her lips in protest. It had been years. Years since she had forced herself to bury that night so deep it felt like someone else's nightmare.

Years since she convinced herself she had forgotten. Yet now—now it was back, clearer than ever.

Her body trembled beneath the water. 'There were… more than one. Not just him. Not just that disgusting mutt. There were… others. A lot more.'

As far as she remembered, there was just one guy who had assaulted her. Yet a new memory emerged yesterday.

The part of her memory, erased, had returned, bringing with it a sickness she couldn't wash away no matter how long she stayed submerged.

'So why now? Why am I seeing this again? Who would do this? Who would tear open what I buried?'

Her thoughts turned bitter, poisonous. 'Is someone… playing a game with me? Watching me squirm, waiting for me to break apart piece by piece? Are they sitting somewhere, enjoying it, finding pleasure in seeing me shattered? If that's what they want…'

Her head burst out of the water with a violent gasp. "Haaahhh…" Her breathing came harsh, ragged. Droplets streamed down her face like fresh tears.

"…I wouldn't let them have that pleasure."

Her hands clenched into fists beneath the water. She hadn't even realized she had balled them so tightly until she felt the sting.

"Still…" she whispered.

Anger was easy. Anger gave her strength. But there was something else gnawing at her—something softer, weaker, something she hated even more than the pain.

A name. A face. A boy with stubborn eyes who stood in her memories like an unmovable mountain.

'Cassius…'

His name lingered in her mind. From the pit of her own broken memories, from the depths of that nightmare, his image emerged—the one who had reached for her when no one else did, the one who had saved her when she had given up on herself.

Though she wore a hardened shell now, polished and perfected for the world to see, deep inside she was still that same girl who was once an empathetic child.

She had tried to forget, tried to bury it beneath her pride, her bitterness, her new self but how could she? How could she forget the one person who had pulled her out of hell?

The numbers, the details, the scale of what she endured—they had changed, twisted. But one fact remained untouched, unshaken: Cassius had saved her. And for that, she was forever grateful.

'He had his own burdens… yet he still chose to carry mine. He was reckless, yes, but he was kind. He was… he was someone truly great.'

Her lips trembled. A small laugh escaped her, dry, broken. 'And it's such a cruel pity… he's… was.'

Her breath hitched.

"Why…" Her voice cracked. "Why did he go there? Why the library, of all places? What could he possibly have gained by doing that? Why is it… why is he 'was'? WHY!!"

Her voice echoed against the tiles, shattering the fragile silence of the room. For all her efforts, for all her composure, the truth was simple: she was breaking.

Her shoulders shook, her eyes watered again, and she buried her face in her wet hands. "Haahhh…" She sucked in a shaky breath. "Seriously… two days in a row… I'm such a damn crybaby."

Yet even as she insulted herself, the tears did not stop.

"Ahahaha…" Celeste chuckled softly, though her laughter was hollow, trembling at the edges. "The original might have mocked me… ridiculed me even… but now—" her smile twisted faintly, "both have died. The fake one and… the original who was already gone long before."

Yes.

Celeste Fontaine knew. She had always known, even if she had refused to admit it aloud. The Cassius she loved and cared about, had already disappeared.

By the time they met again at the banquet, she had recognized it instantly. He was gone.

And yet… not gone.

There was always a question lingering at the back of her mind. The Cassius she remembered, her Cassius, had been a different person.

His every gesture had been muted, withdrawn. He walked with hunched shoulders, eyes lowered, lips pressed in silence. He gave off an air of meekness, of fragility. But that was never the truth. Celeste knew it.

He wasn't weak. No! he was strong. Far stronger than anyone around them could even dream of being.

He had the strength to stand at the top, to outshine them all. And yet, he suppressed it. He deliberately weakened himself, undermined himself at every turn.

Not because he doubted his power. But because he feared it.

Cassius feared what his strength would do to those he loved. To the people closest to him.

He was terrified of losing control, terrified of hurting them, terrified of becoming the monster he believed himself capable of being.

That was why he always looked so meek, so small. He wasn't weak. He was restraining himself with shackles of his own making.

But then came the new Cassius—the fake one.

This Cassius was different. Bold. Brazen. His every word carried arrogance, his chin lifted with haughty disdain.

He undermined others without hesitation and wrapped himself in a cloak of confidence so thick it bordered on reckless pride.

But even that arrogance was wrong. It wasn't true arrogance, it was a mask. A carefully crafted façade.

Celeste could see it, even if no one else did. That cocky exterior was nothing but a shield, a weapon he wielded to guard his actual self. To hide what he did not want the world to glimpse.

"Whatever he was…" she whispered, her lips curving faintly. "He was."

And that was enough.

One truth had rooted itself in her heart: even the fake Cassius, this impostor who was not her Cassius, was still better than no Cassius at all.

Because at least then, in some distorted, twisted sense, her Cassius was still alive.

But now… now even that was gone. And the emptiness clawed at her chest.

"Still…" she exhaled slowly, her voice thinning to a thread. "He was a mystery in himself. Especially his strange connection with that girl… Mia."

From what Celeste knew, Mia was a new face. Recently adopted into the Lancaster family. Just a girl, insignificant in name and standing.

And yet… there was something undeniably real between her and the fake Cassius. A bond. A connection Celeste could not dismiss.

"There must be a deeper reason for Cassius's disappearance…" Her eyes hardened, narrowing into sharp, icy slits.

"If I want to find out the truth… if I want to uncover where the original Cassius went… then I have no choice." Her voice dipped into a chilling murmur. "I need to interrogate that girl. Mia knows something. She has to. She will be my first step."

Her decision made, Celeste rose. She bathed, her motions mechanical, and dressed in fresh clothes, her mind never leaving its path.

By the time she stepped outside, the sun was already high, blazing down in merciless brilliance. The others had gathered beneath its scorching gaze, readying themselves for today's outing, the monster hunt, their training ground.

Leon's eyes brushed across her figure, only for a fleeting second, before he looked away. He didn't say a word. Celeste ignored him just as deliberately, her stride carrying her forward without pause.

Beside Leon, Evelyn tilted her head slightly. Her sharp eyes missed nothing. "Something happened between you two? You look… uncomfortable."

Leon gave a lopsided shrug. "Nothing much. I just… crossed a boundary yesterday."

Her gaze sharpened, but her face remained blank, unreadable. "You shouldn't have interfered in matters that weren't yours. You have no sense of personal space."

Leon laughed quietly to himself, but the sound carried a faint bitterness. "Ahaha… yeah, maybe you're right. In fact, you are right." His grin slipped into something softer, more private. "Though I don't intend to change. This Leon… is better off this way."

His voice lowered, carrying weight that Evelyn could not miss. "Sometimes… crossing those boundaries is necessary. What if someone really needs you? It's much better than losing someone."