The air was cold. Sharp. He gasped violently, chest jerking as if he'd been pulled from underwater. Light pierced through the darkness in his vision—but it wasn't light from above. It was dim, yellow, flickering… a broken bulb?
His neck hurt. His throat burned.
Then he noticed it—the pressure around his neck, the weak resistance of a rope now half-loosened.
He was hanging.
Or had been.
The ceiling beam above him creaked softly as the old noose unraveled and dropped him fully to the floor. His knees scraped harsh wood. He coughed, gasped, choked again. He clawed at his throat, desperate to breathe. The pain was real. The room was real.
And this body…
He staggered to his feet, weak and trembling. The scent of mold, sweat, and something acidic filled the air. Dirty clothes piled in the corner. Cracked phone screen. A dusty photograph fallen under the desk.
He picked it up.
Two adults, smiling. A man and a woman in work clothes. Cheap but clean.
Then it hit him.
> These aren't my parents.
A splitting ache shot through his skull—memories that weren't his flooded in. A different life. A different boy. This room. This despair.
His name in this world was Rei Kael—an only child, 17 years old. His parents had been killed during a bank robbery just weeks ago. They weren't even supposed to be there, but they'd gone to plead for an extension on a loan. The gunmen didn't hesitate. Shot dead while standing still.
Why?
Because Rei—this version of him—had threatened to leave home if they didn't give him a proper birthday gift. They borrowed money. Used their car as collateral. And were murdered trying to make him happy.
The guilt crushed the boy. And so… he'd tied a rope.
That's when he—the real him—was reborn.
> "So that's how I returned…"
His throat still burned, but his mind cleared fast. Faster than it should. Years of military experience clicked into place beneath the teen's memories. The sharp awareness of a battlefield veteran settled into a broken youth's frame.
> "This isn't a second chance… This is a setup."
He remembered the voice in the void.
100 years left. Survive. Evolve. Kill.
No comfort. No guidance. Just orders from something beyond understanding.
He looked at his hands. Still trembling. Skinny. Weak. No power. No class. Nothing awakened yet.
And yet, in the back of his mind, he could feel it.
Something buried.
Silent.
Waiting.
---
The next few days passed in silence.
He cleaned the room. Threw out the rope. Burned the photo. Not out of hate, but to bury the pain. There was no one left in the world who cared about Rei Kael. And the world had no idea what had just been inserted back into it.
On the seventh day, an official notice arrived.
> [Government Awakening Evaluation Notice]
All eligible students are required to report to the district's testing site for Class Potential Assessment.
Failure to attend is punishable by law.
He folded the letter and smiled faintly.
> "So this is how it starts."
---
The testing center looked like a mix between a prison and a lab. Chain-link fences. Towering floodlights. Armed soldiers watching over teenagers in gym uniforms.
"Look at that loser. He's still pale as hell."
"Didn't he try to off himself? He shouldn't even be here."
Rei ignored them.
The "testing" involved being thrown into a small dungeon simulation with weak-level beasts. The theory was simple: true awakening only triggers in real fear, real pain, real danger.
The system inside every human reacts to survival stress.
Most people awaken after surviving a close call. A few awaken early from natural talent or genetics.
Rei waited calmly at the edge of the formation. Group C—12 students. Some cocky, some scared. A girl with dual knives. A guy carrying a staff too big for his build.
The guards opened the gate.
The dungeon stank of blood and heat. Mana pulses made the air hum faintly.
The beast that stumbled out wasn't weak.
It wasn't supposed to be there.
> "That's a rank-2 crawler," one of the guards muttered nervously.
"Why is the chain already broken?" another whispered.
Inside the dome, the students panicked.
The crawler—a centipede the size of a dog with thick black plates—rushed in instantly.
Screams.
One kid got knocked flat. Another scrambled away, tripping over a discarded sword.
> "Someone pull the emergency!"
"Wait—it's still a valid test!"
Rei didn't wait.
He moved.
No power. No ability. Just experience.
He picked up a knife and slid low, drawing the crawler's attention. It hissed and snapped.
He didn't fight it head-on. He taunted it.
Drew it toward him.
Let it chase.
Ducked. Rolled.
> "Hit it from the side while it's focused on me!" he yelled.
Some of the others hesitated—then joined.
A burst of flame scorched its shell.
Someone swung a bat charged with kinetic energy.
The crawler screamed and reeled.
Together, they brought it down.
Everyone gasped, exhausted. Most collapsed. One even cried.
Then the lights blinked.
Holographic screens floated in front of each student.
> [Awakening Successful]
Class: Pyromancer
Skills: Ember Fist, Fireball (Locked)
> [Awakening Successful]
Class: Reinforced Brawler
Skills: Kinetic Smash
Rei waited.
His screen never came.
But in the corner of his eye, something pulsed.
A faint red glow.
Only visible to him.
> [Kill Logged]
[Mission Tag: First Blood Complete]
[Ability Unlocked: Backstab]
[Skill Description: Strike from behind for critical damage. Strength scales with stealth.]
No one else saw it.
No system voice.
No confirmation pop-up.
Just a cold understanding in his bones.
> He hadn't awakened like them.
He hadn't awakened at all.
His system wasn't a gift. It was a contract. One signed in blood.
And it had just begun.