References.

Original Design

by justlimes

Pom the Bear

by caeliris

Galeia Outfit

by rancchu

Alternate Outfit

by mivs95

More art can be seen in Gallery

Gallery.

Solo.

Gallery.

Group.

Credits.

Table of Contents

• I. Dream Walker
• II. A Thousand Lifetimes
• III. The People Between Worlds
• IV. Sofia
• V. At the Center of it All
• VI. The Bear
• VII. Tears in Reality

I. Dream Walker

Jisoo was a normal girl for the first ten years of her life. She went to school, played with other kids, and experienced the fullest range of human emotions she thought was possible for her tiny self. But when she was eleven, she began to have strange dreams. Recurring dreams. Dreams that haunted her even during her waking hours.She began to struggle in school from the lack of sleep, her relationships with her friends and family deteriorating, and she eventually broke down from the stress. Everyone thought that she was just daydreaming. It turns out that Jisoo was haunted by ghosts of a past life. She had the soul of Sofia, the last World Walker, whose job it was to maintain the peace of the worlds that humans created through writing their fiction. To ensure that nothing threw off the balance, that no fiction bled into reality.Sofia had lived through a thousand universes, each universe taking a tiny fragment of her soul and weaving into a new personality for her, one that adhered to the laws of that world. But Sofia was the last of her kind, a spectral being who could no longer survive on her own. And so, the last bits of her soul - the soul that still held Sofia’s shattered personality - had sought refuge in Jisoo’s body, possessing the young girl.Hence the dreams.They weren’t just dreams.They were whole other lives - some shorter than others - that Sofia had lived through. From just the nights that she was haunted by visions of the lives held in those soul fragments, Jisoo aged mentally. She lived a thousand lives before her body was even twelve. It was no wonder that she had begun to break down from the stress.One night, seeing her vessel beginning to waste away, Sofia took pity on the girl. She visited Jisoo’s dreams and struck her a deal. Jisoo could sleep forever, if she wanted. Sofia would take all of the pain, all of the suffering, and live through them again. In exchange, Sofia’s soul would merge with Jisoo’s, and the two would be given another thousand lives to spend on mending other worlds.Seeing no other way out of her waking nightmare, Jisoo agreed. And so, she allowed Sofia into her heart, to merge the two and to take on all of Jisoo’s pain. And no one was the wiser.Suddenly, “Jisoo” was all better, her parents thought. She woke up and was her old self again. The two souls combined, and they attempted to exist in this new and frightening world. Only the two of them knew what had happened. But at night, a fragment of their soul would leave, headed off to another adventure in another world, living out a whole life from beginning to (sometimes tragic) end in less than eight hours.As “Jisoo” grew, Sofia began to vanish from Jisoo’s soul, her memory growing hazier with each passing day. She and Jisoo were practically the same person now, and, with a terrifying calm, Sofia realized that her time was almost up. The last remaining fragments of their soul that held her personality were starting to fade away. And once she did, there would be no more balance between reality and fiction.And so, ten years after their first bargain, at the age of twenty-one, she appeared to Jisoo in their dreams. She explained what was happening to them, and that Jisoo had no choice anymore. Jisoo had to take over for Sofia as the last World Walker. Jisoo cried; of course she did. She’d chosen to hide away for ten years, away from the pain she’d experienced as a child.But she truly didn’t have a choice.The closer Sofia got to oblivion, the more that reality and fiction began to blend together. Bits and pieces of other worlds began to make their way into the “real world.” There was no way for the weakened Sofia to hold that door closed anymore.It was only after a terrifying incident with a shadowy stalker from another world that Jisoo realized that there truly was no choice in the matter. A monster from another world had slipped through a crack, had found Sofia’s residual energy. It would kill her if it was allowed to stay in the real world. And if it wasn’t the only thing to break out of its fictional prison, so many more than just her would die. She had to take over Sofia’s place and Walk.That night, she dreamed. Sofia was there, half faded into nothingness. With a sad smile, she took Jisoo’s hand and made a solemn promise.“I will always be here in some way. You will not Walk alone.”And then, Jisoo’s fingers slipped through the air.Sofia was gone.Jisoo was left, alone, to tear pieces of her soul off during the hours that she was supposed to be asleep, to send off bits of herself to be reborn in another world, to live a life and set things on the right course, and then die. All at once. Every time that she Walked, she experienced the circle of life, then woke in her own body with a head filled with new memories that were hers, but not at the same time.There wasn’t really a guide to Walking, but Jisoo managed. She coped with the pain by isolating herself, burying herself in creating her own fictional worlds, sometimes writing about the people from other worlds that she’d met. She wrote about the people she loved, about her adventures, and about all of the times she died. It was the only way she had found to healthily process everything. And so, she created.She became a Creator, hoping to one day write a world that she - or the Walker who would inevitably come after her - didn’t have to Walk through at night, alone and scared and wondering if the pain would ever truly go away. She prayed that her fictional worlds would only bring happiness, and would never curse another person with the same fate as she’d lived through.Although she is only twenty-five now, she’s lived longer than most humans could ever say. If you see her looking over your shoulder, don’t question it. She sees the cracks in reality, and is mending them in the moments that she looks like she’s a thousand miles away.

II. A Thousand Lifetimes

It’s not fun and games, existing in worlds that you’ve only seen on screen or on paper. It seems so exciting at first, like an exhilarating roller coaster - fun, with no real stakes - for a little while. Upon realizing that these characters are real people, and that you’re walking among them, it seems so harmless. Like playing a game on the playground at school.But as soon as the pain sets in when you realize that you’re dying, you’re thirteen and you’ve just been stabbed, and you’re bleeding out in the arms of the person who your thirteen-year-old brain thought you’d marry, and you’re watching your friends cry and beg for you to keep your eyes open… it stops being fun.It becomes terrifying.I thought that living like this was going to be so easy, so fun, when I recognized a character that my eleven-year-old self fell in love with. That the eighteen - yes, eighteen - years I’d lived through as a girl named “Alice” were coming to mean something. That I would be able to skate through this world without much incident. I was wrong.I died for the first time in that world. I was only nineteen. At the time, that felt like a long life, but what did I know? My real body was only eleven. I couldn’t fathom being nineteen, let alone older. And the first time I died, it was traumatic, so much so that my own mind won’t allow me to fully recall all the details.I remember a gunshot and a searing pain. I remember the man I loved, who, in that life, I’d thrown away everything for. I remember lots of tears and even more screaming, and I remember the way that feeling left my body, like ice creeping up my bones, until there was nothing. And I remember waking up, safe in my own bed, and crying.At the time, it felt like I was robbed of a happy ending. But I know now that it was fate, and that my story was always supposed to end there. That I’d done a “good job” and guided these people to their ultimate fates. Some of them died there, too, right alongside the me of that world, and others lived out their lives, long and happy. And even though I had years ahead of me, even though I was so young, I was jealous. “Alice” deserved happiness, too.I would later come to understand that sometimes, the job the world wanted me to do ended in death. My death, specifically.When Sofia disappeared, all of her memories of the worlds that were supposed to be my responsibility came to me, appearing in my mind like a demented movie marathon. I must have died over a thousand times. Lived over a thousand lifetimes. Some of them were happier than others, but still, they were mine. I felt it all, both every pain that clenched my chest and every moment of happiness that brought tears to my eyes.I was twenty-one when I lived until I was ninety-three. I lived a nice, long life in a world that would feel dangerously familiar if I was to describe it. I made friends with strong people, and we walked across countries as we grew and changed. We saved the world, I helped people get back to their lives. My friends and I were revolutionaries, legendary figures when we were only teenagers. I fell in love with a boy who saved my life multiple times, and I married him when we were old enough. We had children, our children had children, and I grew older as I watched it all happen. I lived, and I loved, and I died. And then, I woke up. I was still twenty-one.Waking up every morning, back to the way I was before I was born into a different world, brings a unique sort of heartbreak. I will never be able to set foot in those worlds again, as my job is done. Those worlds no longer need me. But I need them.I need those people I found, I need them to know that they were real to me. I need them to remember that I was real, too. Because I am not in their books, their shows, their films. I do not exist in their world the way that we know it. For all anyone ever knows, I don’t exist.I used to keep a journal, but now, it’s become more than that. What most people would call “fanfiction,” I call my biography. I was real, I keep telling myself. I was as real as they are. And I keep writing, hoping to cling to the belief that I changed something - anything - and that I touched lives. That the bit of my soul I ripped off was important.I don’t know how much of my soul is left, if I am to think about it. I can’t recall every world I’ve been to, and I certainly don’t know what my soul looks like with so many pieces missing. But I do know that those pieces of my soul aren’t really mine anymore.They belong to so many other people who have lived their lives. No matter how short or how long, how fulfilling or how unhappy… they were real. They were me, yes, but they were real and they were their own people.My memories of the nights that I Walk are like an out of body experience. I remember it all, but I don’t fully believe that I had any control. All I wish for each time that I Walk is for my soul to live a happy life, no matter how it ends. Sometimes, I get everything I could have wanted for them, but other times, that life is cut brutally short.I am much older than people think. I am twenty-five. But I am also nineteen. I am ninety-three.Those people, the parts of me that have seen the end, will always be with me. I will take their stories with me until I no longer exist. To this day, I’ve lived, loved, and died a thousand times. And I will do it all a thousand times more.

III. The People Betwen Worlds

TBA.

IV. Sofia

TBA.

V. At the Center of it All

TBA.

VI. The Bear

TBA.

VII. Tears in Reality

TBA.

VIII. A Lie

TBA.

Commissions.

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