Life Rebooted with Copy and Paste

Opening her eyes, a horrifying battlefield stretched before her. An arrow, brimming with a sinister energy, came hurtling straight toward her. She froze, as if rooted to the spot. If she didn’t act, the arrow would embed itself in her eye.

“Saintess!”

An old knight stepped forward, sweeping his weapon to deflect the arrow. Without hesitation, he swung his aura-charged sword in a wide arc. The energy soared through the air, severing the head of the undead archer who had fired.

She recognized his back immediately.

“Sir Polman...” she whispered.

“Saintess! Get a hold of yourself! This is a battlefield!”

Sir Polman’s firm voice snapped Siwelin out of her daze.

That’s right. This wasn’t the time to stand idly.

They were in the middle of a desperate war against the Immortal Army that had ravaged the lands of every kingdom and people. The fanatics of the moon god were at their doorstep, threatening to take this final sanctuary. If this place fell, their world would be doomed.

“I’m fine now,” she said, pulling away from Polman’s supporting hand and standing on her own.

She could not allow herself to remain dazed any longer, so her piercing gaze swept across the battlefield. Then, she began to murmur softly.

Not a long after, a brilliant light erupted and a radiant curtain enveloped the battlefield.

***

—Yay, we won!

—Woooaaah!

The battle ended in a resounding victory. The Immortal Army, which had stormed toward the sanctuary, crumbled helplessly under Siwelin’s purification ritual. Those who managed to evade the ritual could not withstand the knights’ relentless attacks and fell one by one until none were left.

The aftermath of the battle saw immediate recovery efforts. Despite their exhaustion, the soldiers and people wore unfading smiles.

—If it wasn't for the Saintess, we would have been finished long ago.

—I’ve heard that thanks to her, the enemy’s momentum is weakening.

—Also, did you hear about there being other survivors out there?

The chatter among the workers buzzed with hopeful rumors, all centered on the possibility of a brighter future. Cooperating with other survivors was key to overcoming the catastrophe and restoring humanity’s prosperity.

Amid these hopeful murmurs, Siwelin alone frowned.

An inexplicable unease gnawed at her, as if she were wearing clothes that did not fit. She could not pinpoint the source, no matter how hard she tried.

“Are you alright?”

A young escort knight approached with concern in his eyes. He wore armor engraved with the sun’s symbol.

“Ah... I’m fine,” Siwelin replied, smoothing her furrowed brow and offering a gentle smile.

If she could not figure out what was wrong, it likely was not important. Perhaps this discomfort was nothing more than lingering fatigue. Her smile brought a faint blush to the knight’s face. Together, they walked the grounds, inspecting the ongoing recovery efforts.

By the time they returned to the sanctuary, the sun had set.

“Um... S-Saintess, I-I have something to tell you,” the knight stuttered awkwardly.

Curious, Siwelin turned to him, only to hear something entirely unexpected. Her eyes widened at his love confession.

The teachings of Laoha, who worships the Sun God, didn’t forbid marriage or romance at all. In fact, they were considered a part of divine order and even encouraged. Their society was unusually open in that regard.

“I’m sorry,” Siwelin replied with a bittersweet smile, gently turning him down.

The knight’s face fell, disappointment etched into his expression. Still, he gathered the courage to ask.

“Do you... perhaps have someone else in your heart?”

“No, it’s not that...” she replied.

She loved everyone in the sanctuary as if they were her family, but none of them stirred her heart romantically. What was odd, though, was how decisively she had rejected him. Usually, she would have asked for time to think.

I suppose I’m just not interested in that sort of thing right now.

At least, it felt reasonable enough.

After an awkward silence, they finally returned to the sanctuary. She parted ways with the knight and headed to her quarters.

That evening, after her bath, her maid was combing her hair. It was Sue, her childhood friend and confidant. When Siwelin shared what had happened, Sue nearly jumped out of her seat.

“You rejected Sir Leon’s confession because of some vague feeling? Are you serious?” Sue asked.

"Uh, yes, so what?"

“Oh, Saintess! Do you have any idea how popular Sir Leon is among the knights of the sanctuary? If you’re a young woman, you should go on a date while you can! It’ll help you later when you’re searching for a life partner!”

“But it feels wrong to date someone I don’t have feelings for...”

“Oh, our clueless princess! Sometimes, love starts that way!”

“Does it?”

“Of course!”

Sue continued to chatter away, her lively voice filling the room. Most of it was about romance—stories of others’ love lives, her own experiences, and advice that invariably circled back to one point: Siwelin needed to find someone special.

As Siwelin listened, a small smile crept onto her face.

“I think I’m fine as I am,” she said softly.

“What do you mean, fine as you are?” Sue asked incredulously.

“I’m good with the way things are now. I’m happy with my life.”

Sue’s gentle hands combing her hair and her endless stream of words felt profoundly comforting, almost achingly so. Siwelin felt an overwhelming sense of peace, as though asking for anything more would be greedy.

However, then, as if drawn by some invisible force, she looked at the mirror.

“But Sue...”

“Yes?”

“Was my hair always black?”

“Of course! When you were little, the elders always said your hair looked like the night sky. Don’t you remember?”

The reflection showed herself, her dark hair gleaming under the candlelight, and Sue behind her, lovingly brushing it. It was such a natural sight. Sue spoke with certainty, her tone lighthearted.

Yet, Siwelin was unsure.

“Did they? I thought they said my hair looked like the moon in the night sky,” Siwelin murmured, tilting her head slightly. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

The inexplicable unease from earlier resurfaced, circling within her like a shadow refusing to dissipate.

***

Several days passed, and the days were peaceful, uneventful.

Siwelin spent her time listening to Sue’s endless stories, discussing hopeful plans with Polman about the possibility of survivors outside, and considering searches they would soon undertake.

Sir Leon continued to serve as her guard. The only noticeable change was the faint flush that rose to his cheeks whenever their eyes met. Sue never missed a chance to nudge her in the ribs about it, but Siwelin’s feelings remained unmoved.

Then, one day, while praying alone in the sanctuary, she noticed something. It was a hidden passage leading underground.

What... is this?

Her heart pounded as she stood before it. She knew she should alert someone and enter with a guard, but her feet moved of their own accord, carrying her down the passage.

The underground space opened into a wide chamber, lined with countless graves.

“Huh...?”

Her hands trembled, and her breathing quickened as she approached one of the tombstones. The name engraved on it stopped her in her tracks.

“Sue...?”

There was Sue’s name. Seeing that, Siwelin’s heart raced. Why was Sue’s name carved into a gravestone beneath the sanctuary? Desperate for answers, she began checking the other headstones.

She also found the name Polman, Leon and Layla, the child who always followed her. Every name belonged to someone she knew—people she had seen alive and well just that day.

At last, she came to the final gravestone. When she saw the name carved into it, her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground.

“No... This can’t be...”

The name on the stone was hers, Siwelin. Her hands trembled violently as she clutched them together, trying to keep herself from falling apart. She closed her eyes, reciting a prayer with all her heart.

Her desperate plea seemed to reach the heavens, and a light descended upon her. However, it was not the majestic, awe-inspiring brilliance of the god she was used to. This light was warm, familiar, like an embrace from family.

Unbidden, words slipped from her lips.

“You’ve come to take me home,” Siwelin muttered.

Siwelin stumbled out of the sanctuary, her eyes vacant, drained of light. Outside, life seemed unchanged. People bustled about, smiling and chatting, some calling out cheerfully as they sold their wares. Others greeted her with warmth and reverence.

She froze, staring at them in disbelief.

“Saintess!”

A small tug on her sleeve brought her back to the moment. It was Layla, the sweet child who often gifted her flower necklaces. Without thinking, Siwelin knelt to meet the child’s gaze.

“Saintess, I have a favor to ask,” Layla whispered as if she was telling a secret, her innocent voice cutting through the storm raging in Siwelin’s heart.

“What is it?” Siwelin asked, her voice trembling as though each word took immense effort.

“When I grow up and get married, will you be in charge of my wedding?”

Thump.

Layla’s innocent request struck Siwelin’s heart like a dagger. Her breath hitched, and the dam of emotions she had been holding back shattered. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she pulled Layla into a tight embrace.

“S-Saintess?”

“Of course. Of course I will,” Siwelin said, her voice cracking. “When that day comes, I’ll make sure it’s the most beautiful wedding...”

She clutched the child as if letting go would shatter her completely. Through her tears, she began to murmur a prayer, her lips moving without thought.

Then it happened. With a brilliant flash, wings unfurled from her back—eight pairs, radiant and divine—a sign of Divine Descent from Laoha, the Sun God. As the wings spread, Layla began to dissolve into light.

Everyone and everything including the sanctuary, the ground, even the sky began to shimmer and crumble into glowing dust.

An entire world, built of regret and bittersweet memories, collapsed around her. A fleeting, unattainable past unraveled into nothingness.

When Siwelin opened her eyes again, a man’s face hovered over hers.

“Siwelin?”

“...Mr. Do-Joon?”

Hearing his name, Kim Do-Joon’s tense expression softened with relief.

Seeing his face, a wave of emotions threatened to crash over her again. However, she swallowed it down. She did not want him to see her like this, face streaked with tears.

With his help, she rose to her feet. She felt surprisingly light, bursting with strength like never before.

“This is impossible! How! How can you break that magic...?!”

Ushas’ enraged voice echoed through the air. Siwelin turned to look at the restrained Ushas. Her expression, once gentle and sorrowful, had turned icy, devoid of warmth.

Only cold determination remained.