I didn't scream.
I didn't cry. Not this time.
The pain, the memories—they were still there, but I'd buried them deep beneath something colder. Something sharper. The kind of silence only death leaves behind.
And I had died. Once. That was enough.
The morning light bled through my window. I stood at the edge of the room, staring at my reflection again. Same face. Same silver eyes. No one else would notice it, but I could. The difference wasn't outside. It was in the way I looked at the world now. Detached. Focused.
I didn't need pity. I needed power.
I glanced at the cracked watch on the table. Still ticking. It was 2033—exactly ten years before everything burned. I confirmed it again through the old phone beside my bed. No notifications, no signal, but the date stared back at me.
I was back.
And I wouldn't waste this chance.
---
Later that morning, I stepped out into the streets of New Veora.
The city hadn't changed yet. Shops still opened lazily. Kids ran through alleyways with wooden swords. Banners fluttered in the wind—colors of peace, not blood. The scent of fried bread from a nearby stall drifted through the air. Normal.
But I knew what lurked beneath that peace. I knew which guilds would rise, which academies would fall. I knew which families would sell their own for power.
And I knew the date of every massacre.
I walked past the iron gates of the academy plaza. The stone arch still bore the symbol of humanity's third-strongest institution. Soon, that symbol would mean something else—power, betrayal, monsters in disguise.
But for now, it was just another building.
I pulled out a notebook from my coat. Blank pages.
My old self never planned. He trusted too easily. He hoped. And it killed him.
So I started writing.
Day One: Confirm timeline.
Rebuild physical condition.
Awaken—naturally.
Secure resources.
Identify early monsters, dungeons.
Stay invisible.
No sudden moves. No attention. Not yet.
The world hadn't seen me then. I would make sure it didn't see me now. Not until I wanted it to.
---
Afternoon.
The Awakening Clinic stood quiet on the east end of town. No crowd. No one screaming about stats or hidden talents. Just kids hoping for greatness and adults pretending not to be afraid.
I entered calmly, face blank. The receptionist barely looked up.
"Name?"
"Kael Vire."
She scanned a registry and nodded toward the room to the left. "Booth 3. You know the drill."
Inside, the metal table hummed with faint energy. I sat and placed my hand on the crystal pad. The machine buzzed. Light flickered.
> [Status Window - Public Scan Mode Initiated]
> Name: Kael Vire
Age: 16
Awakening: Unawakened
Rank: —
Potential Grade: D
Status: Normal
D.
The nurse tapped the screen. "Not much potential. Still, you never know. Some improve with time."
I gave her a nod and walked out without a word.
D-rank.
Exactly like last time.
I leaned against the clinic wall, watching the sun dip lower. No one noticed me. No one cared. Perfect.
---
Evening. I sat beneath the old oak tree that marked the town's edge.
The wind stirred the grass. Somewhere nearby, kids laughed. The world was still innocent.
I stared at my open notebook. No emotion in my eyes. Just clarity.
Ten years. That's what I had.
Ten years to reshape everything.
Not by becoming a hero. Not by chasing light.
I'd seen what that brought.
I flipped to a blank page and began to write names. Slowly. Carefully.
People I would avoid. People I would watch. People I would kill.
Not out of rage.
Out of necessity.
They were the cracks that led to collapse. The architects of betrayal. Some didn't even know what they'd done.
But I did.
And I would be ready.
---
Night fell.
I returned home in silence. Mira was asleep already. Her breathing was soft, steady. I paused outside her door for a second.
Not long enough to be nostalgic.
Just long enough to remind myself what I couldn't lose again.
In my room, I sat at the desk, flipping the notebook shut.
The world didn't care if I was good or evil.
It only respected strength.
And I would earn it, not because I wanted revenge.
But because it was the only way to make sure no one like me would ever be chained again.
No more cages.
No more straps.
No more whispers of "worthless."
Let them think I was weak.
Let them look past me.
I smirked.
In the shadow of giants, I would build my own kingdom.