"Aakh!"
Ken jolted awake, his eyes snapping wide open in shock. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as if he had just escaped a nightmare. Gasping for breath, his hands scrambled over his body—searching for wounds that should have been there.
"T-the wounds… where are they? Wasn't I… shot? Then… where is this?"
His eyes scanned his surroundings. All he could see was absolute emptiness. A void with no end, pitch black like a starless universe. No floor, no sky—only a vast nothingness that wrapped around him. Silence. Stillness. As if the world had been swallowed by oblivion.
Before his thoughts could seek answers, his body began to tremble slightly. To his horror, he saw himself fading—bit by bit—like dust scattered by the wind, vanishing without a trace.
"W-what is this… what's happening to me?!"
His body kept fading. His breath caught in his throat. Then a faint voice pierced the suffocating silence.
"My husband… look."
A woman's voice. Gentle, yet mysterious. His blurred vision trembled, heavy as he struggled to open his eyes again. A faint light crept in, gradually forming a blurry silhouette in front of him as his sight began to clear.
"...Where am I?" he wondered, his body limp, like someone recovering from a long coma. "Wasn't I shot dead...? Why am I here...? This… this isn't a hospital…"
Slowly, his vision sharpened. What struck him first was an old room—weathered wooden walls rotting with age, lit dimly by flickering oil lamps that cast trembling shadows across the space. The scent of damp wood filled the air. Warm… but unfamiliar.
In front of him, a young woman sat on a rocking chair, cradling him tightly in her arms. Her face was gentle, full of affection. Beside her, a man dressed simply looked at Ken with sparkling eyes, a weary but genuine smile on his face.
"Ahh… he opened his eyes! Look, my husband!" the woman cried out in joy.
"Yes… I see, my wife. Welcome… our little boy," the man replied, voice husky with restrained happiness.
"Quick… give him a name," the woman whispered, gently caressing Ken's head.
Ken froze. "W-who are they? These aren't doctors… what kind of doctor dresses like a farmer… whose house is this…?" His mind spun, unable to grasp an answer. Then he tried moving his hand—and froze again.
"W-what is this… my hand… it's small?! Huh?! My body… I'm… a baby?!"
Panic surged. He wanted to speak, to protest, but what came out instead… was crying. His tiny body trembled, mouth wide open as loud wailing escaped uncontrollably.
"Damn it… why am I crying?! My body… I can't control it… what the hell is this?!"
"Shhh… don't cry, my sweet child…" the woman whispered, gently rocking Ken's tiny form. "My husband, quickly… give him a name."
"Y-yes… hmm…" The man stared at Ken's teary face. "How about… Kael. Kael Branch."
Ken—or now, Kael—fell silent. His crying ceased. Something in that name struck deep within him. A feeling he couldn't explain. Slowly, his tiny lips seemed to form a faint smile.
At that moment… he knew. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a hallucination. He had been reborn—into a strange, mysterious world full of questions.
---
Days passed by without notice.
Kael, who had once been a helpless newborn, was now gradually gaining control of his tiny body. Though still unable to walk, he'd mastered crawling across the warm corners of their sturdy wooden home. Every moment, he absorbed whatever he could from his parents—this world he now lived in was no ordinary world. Here, magic and monsters were part of everyday life.
His mother, Liana, was a respected healer. Her healing magic had reached level 8, capable of mending wounds from minor cuts to near-fatal injuries—though one unbreakable law remained: no healer, no matter how powerful, could bring the dead back to life. That was a universal truth of this world.
Meanwhile, his father, Garen, held the title of Sword Master. To little Kael, the man was the embodiment of strength and bravery. Though he seemed like a simple knight at a glance, Kael slowly learned from overheard conversations: knights were protectors of the kingdom, bound by honor and duty, while Sword Masters were more independent—free spirits who walked their own paths. Still, some Sword Masters eventually joined the knights' ranks. This world, after all, was full of unpredictable shades of gray.
Two years passed.
Now, Kael could crawl swiftly. Though his world remained confined within the sturdy wooden home, to him, it was an endless field of adventure. He discovered that in one corner of the house stood a bookshelf. His growing curiosity urged him toward it, eyes locked on the row of books that looked like gateways to other worlds. But he soon faced a problem—he couldn't read the letters of this world.
Determined, Kael crawled to the shelf, grabbed a random book, and brought it to his mother, who was relaxing nearby.
"Aii!" he called out, lifting the book as high as his tiny arms could manage.
Liana turned, smiling warmly. "Hm? What is it, Kael? Want me to read to you?"
Kael shook his head quickly, then mumbled softly, "Hmm…"
Liana squinted, trying to guess his meaning. "You don't want me to read it? Hm… or wait, do you want to learn to read?"
"Eem!" Kael nodded firmly, his little face full of unshakable resolve.
With a soft chuckle, Liana patted his hair. "Oh my… my little Kael already wants to learn to read? You're amazing." She then lifted him onto her lap. "Alright then, let's begin."
They sat together, and Liana patiently introduced him to each letter.
"This one is called C," Liana said gently.
"C… C…" Kael repeated softly, his tongue still stiff.
"Very good!" Liana praised with a proud sparkle in her eyes.
Inside, Kael was stunned. How strange… the letters and numbers in this world are exactly the same as the ones from my old world. Not a single difference…
Their lessons continued until Kael eventually drifted off in her arms. Liana gazed at his innocent face, full of pride and overflowing affection. "You're a smart child, Kael. Maybe when you're five or six… I'll enroll you in school."
Gently, she carried Kael to his room. The wooden house glowed warmly, lit by the soft flicker of oil lamps hanging along the hallway. The creaking of wooden floorboards accompanied her steps until she reached Kael's bedroom. It was simple yet cozy, with a small bed covered in clean blankets.
Liana laid him down carefully, watching his sleeping face. She leaned in and kissed his forehead, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
"Good night, Kael…" she whispered before quietly stepping out, closing the door so as not to wake her precious son.