The first twenty-seven times I tried to escape, I failed.
The system let me hurl my soul like a broken arrow toward the living—but each time, I bounced off. I woke up back in the prison of my old flesh, chained beneath Zaire's laughter.
"Still trying, huh? Can't say you're not persistent. But your era's done, bro. You're a fossil."
But I kept trying.
On the twenty-eighth attempt… I landed.
When I awoke, I was gasping in a pile of filth.
It was dark. Wet. Smelled like urine and rust. My hands were trembling—smaller, weaker, darker. My skin… a deep brown. My arms thin, like reeds. My body was unfamiliar, yet burning with life.
I had succeeded.
This was a 19-year-old Black boy's body—scarred, starving, barely alive.
[System Notification: Body Invasion Successful. Sync: 12%. Survival required for stability.]
My chest throbbed. My head spun. I collapsed beside a rusted dumpster and choked on bile. The memories weren't mine—but they pulsed through my skull.
His name was Myles. No family. No power. Just another discard in a broken city.
I stumbled into the streets of the Freeholds—the southern end of the world. The only region I never conquered.
Perfect.
I was surrounded by skyscrapers, smog, and neon filth. Mechanical wagons sped by. People didn't look each other in the eyes. Magic existed, but it was hidden, privatized, regulated. The world had changed more than I realized.
And I was starting from nothing.
I begged for food.
I got punched. Mocked. Spat on.
At night, I curled up in a stairwell and wished for death.
[System Notification: Survival Milestone Reached. Skill Unlocked: Pain Tolerance Lv.1]
I laughed.
A weak, bitter sound—but mine. This was how I would rise. One skill at a time. One bruise at a time.
The next day, I fought a man twice my size over a half-eaten sandwich. I used a rusted pipe and instinct. I cracked his skull open.
[First Kill Achieved. Soul Fragment Harvested: 2.]
[Skill Fragment Detected: Street Brawler Lv.1]
I could feel the power trickle in—slow, raw, but real.
Not stolen.
Not corrupt.
Mine.
I would rise again.
And when I did… I would show Zaire what it meant to face the true King of Kings.