Chapter 79: Chapter: 79 Strange Dreams.

Edward stood frozen, his eyes wide as he looked at his brother.

It was hard to believe that this tall, broad-shouldered man in front of him was the same brother he had known all his life.

Vivian had always looked a bit soft, almost delicate, even though everyone knew he was strong.

But now there was nothing soft about him, his body seemed carved from stone, every muscle alive with power.

"Brother... how did you change so—" Edward began, but a voice interrupted him.

"Vivian!"

It was a woman’s voice, full of warmth and disbelief.

Vivian turned toward the sound, his eyes lighting up as he said softly, "Mom? You’re here too?"

Before he could say more, she rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

Vivian stood still for a second, then slowly relaxed and sank into her embrace.

Her hands trembled as she held him, as if she was afraid he might disappear.

Edward watched them silently.

For a moment, the strong, unshakable Vivian looked like a child again, safe, loved, and at peace in his mother’s arms.

Vivian’s eyes wavered as he tried to hold back his tears.

For his family, it had only been a short time since they last saw him, but for him, it felt like an eternity, countless days spent drifting in that endless white void.

The weight of that time pressed on him now, stirring emotions he could barely control.

After a long moment, his mother gently let him go.

Vivian finally saw her face clearly, and his heart ached.

Her face looked tired and pale, her eyes ringed with dark circles that spoke of sleepless nights.

He turned to Edward and noticed the same thing, his brother’s eyes were sunken, and there were faint shadows beneath them.

It was as if neither of them had rested for quite a while.

Not saying anything about that, he stepped quietly into the room, and behind him, Charlotte followed.

The sound of her footsteps made Edward lower his head, though whether it was out of embarrassment or respect, only he himself knew.

’Odd,’ Vivian thought as he stepped further inside.

His gaze moved to the table where his father and grandfather sat in silence.

Both of them looked exhausted, their shoulders slightly slumped, faces drawn, and eyes dim with fatigue.

For a moment, he wanted to ask what had happened while he was gone, but he stopped himself.

This wasn’t the right time.

The room already carried a quiet tension, one that didn’t need more questions.

When his father and grandfather noticed him, their tired expressions softened.

His father stood and pulled him into a firm embrace, and for a second, Vivian could feel the steady, familiar warmth that had always meant home.

His grandfather followed, patting his back with a trembling hand that still held strength in it.

After a few moments, they all sat down around the table, a long, grand table that could easily seat twenty people.

It looked almost too big for the small group now gathered there.

Vivian sat beside his father, Edward taking the seat next to him, while Charlotte quietly sat with his mother across from them.

His grandfather took his usual place at the head of the table, where he’d always sat during family gatherings.

The silence slowly gave way to soft voices as they began to speak, exchanging short words and small smiles.

After a while, calming his mind, Vivian asked, "Father, why does everyone look so tired?"

He glanced around the room, noticing how the others quickly averted their eyes, pretending to be busy or simply refusing to meet his gaze.

For a while, no one spoke.

The air felt thick again, like the calm before a storm.

Vivian looked at each of them one by one, waiting for an answer, but all he saw were uneasy faces and shifting gazes.

Even Edward, who always spoke without thinking, kept quiet this time, his hands fidgeting on the table.

Finally, his father cleared his throat, trying to gather himself.

"Vivian," he began, forcing a small smile, "I know you must find it strange seeing us like this."

He continued, "But first... congratulations on reaching the 5th Star. I can tell you’ve grown a lot since we last met."

His tone carried pride, but there was something else beneath it, a careful effort to steer the topic away.

He paused, glancing briefly at his father, then back at Vivian. "It seems sending you to the academy was the right choice after all."

Edward nodded beside him, his face full of respect and a bit of awe. "Yeah, brother... you really did change."

But Vivian didn’t smile.

His expression stayed calm, almost too calm.

His eyes, sharp and steady, didn’t waver as he spoke. "Father," he said quietly, "that doesn’t answer my question."

Everyone stared at him, their eyes widening in quiet shock.

The calm tone, the steady gaze, the way he spoke without stuttering or lowering his head, none of it fit the timid, nervous Vivian they had known before.

His mother took in a sharp breath, her hands tightening on the edge of the table.

"Son... did something happen? Why do you seem like a completely different person?" Her voice trembled, caught between relief and disbelief.

Vivian met her gaze and smiled faintly, trying to ease her worry, but his thoughts were anything but calm.

’Odd... they noticed my change after only four months apart,’ he thought, ’but when I first transmigrated, no one suspected a thing. Why now?’

A sudden thought made him glance toward Charlotte.

She was sitting quietly beside his mother, watching him with soft eyes.

Vivian’s brows furrowed slightly.

’Even Charlotte didn’t notice when she first met me?’ he wondered, his mind racing.

Something wasn’t right.

’Was I and the original Vivian really that similar?’ The question echoed in his mind, twisting his thoughts into knots.

He couldn’t tell.

The memories he’d received after transmigrating into Vivian’s body were fragmented and strange.

He didn’t remember Charlotte ever being his fiancée, nor could he recall how the original Vivian had behaved.

Still, he didn’t bother to pretend.

He moved through life carelessly, convinced that no one would notice the change, just like in the transmigration novels he used to read.

The uncertainty clawed at him.

’Then how could they not tell before?’ His head began to ache from overthinking.

With a deep breath, he pushed the thought away.

This wasn’t the time to drown in doubt.

He shifted his gaze toward his grandfather, who had been quiet all this time.

"Grandfather," Vivian said slowly, "at least you tell me. What happened to all of you?"

The old man met his eyes and let out a long, weary sigh.

For a moment, his expression softened, but there was something heavy in it, like a man about to open an old wound.

He leaned back in his chair, his voice low and rough.

"You see, Vivian," he began, "it started three months ago..."

The moment his grandfather began to speak, the room grew still.

No one dared interrupt.

Vivian sat quietly, his gaze steady on the old man, every word sinking deep into him.

"Three months ago," his grandfather said slowly, "we all started having the same dream... a dream about losing someone dear to us."

Vivian’s expression changed instantly.

’A dream... about loss?’ His heart skipped a beat as he remembered what Marinate had once told him, the same thing.

Even Charlotte’s eyes widened, her face reflecting the same shock that gripped him.

’Three months ago... that was when we regressed,’ Vivian thought, a chill running down his spine. ’But how could that be? How could they—’

He stopped himself.

The thought was too strange, too heavy to voice.

His mind spun with questions, but he kept his face composed and listened.

His grandfather went on, voice rough with exhaustion. "The dream came every night. No matter what we did, it kept returning."

He continued, "But when we woke up... we couldn’t remember what it was about. Only the pain stayed. A deep, hollow ache, as if something precious had been torn away."

Vivian’s gaze shifted slowly to each of them, his mother, his father, Edward.

All of them bore the same weary look, the same silent torment behind their eyes.

The sight tightened his chest, a dull ache spreading through him.

Whatever this dream was, it wasn’t just a dream anymore.

It was a wound they all shared, and somehow, it was connected to him.

His grandfather’s voice carried the weight of sleepless nights and worry. "At first, we thought it was nothing," he said quietly.

"Strange dreams come and go. But as time passed, it got worse. After a month, Edward finally spoke up."

"He said he’d been having a dream too, a dream where he was losing someone dear to him."

"And every time he thought of you, Vivian, that same feeling of loss would come over him again."

Vivian’s gaze slowly turned to Edward.

His younger brother sat there with his head lowered, fingers nervously twisting together.

He couldn’t even meet Vivian’s eyes.

The guilt in his posture spoke louder than any words.

"At that point," his grandfather continued, his voice trembling with a tired sigh, "we understood it was connected to you somehow."

"But we didn’t know how or why. And now... here we are."

A bitter smile crossed the old man’s face, one that tried to hide years of worry and confusion.

Vivian’s mother spoke softly, her voice warm but strained. "Your other grandparents felt the same, too."

"They also kept dreaming of losing someone, and they said the pain wouldn’t fade even after waking up." She sighed, brushing a hand across her tired eyes.

"They wanted to come see you today, but your uncle’s wife is pregnant, and she’s due soon. They couldn’t leave her."

The room fell into a heavy silence again.

Vivian could feel the air thick with concern, with love, with something strange and unspoken that tied them all together.

Deep down, a cold realization began to stir, something beyond coincidence was at work here.

’Is it really because of my regression?’