There was no sky. No earth beneath my feet. No wind to brush against skin.
Only a silent, oppressive darkness that stretched without end—thick, hollow, and heavy—consuming even the most fragile concept of space and time. In that formless void, I drifted. Disembodied. Lost. As though my soul had been unthreaded from existence itself, left to unravel in silence. I could not tell how long I remained there. Seconds. Years. Perhaps lifetimes. It all felt the same here, in this stagnant abyss. There was no heartbeat to echo in my ears, no breath to warm my chest, no pulse to remind me I still belonged to the living. Only the lingering weight of a single, irreversible truth:
That I had died.
The memory surged through me then—sharp, cold, unforgiving. A blade sliding between my ribs from behind. No hesitation. No warning. It cut through not just flesh, but trust. I remembered the weight of my body collapsing, the wet heat of blood soaking through torn cloth, and above it all, the hollow gaze of the man who had driven steel through my back.
Levin.
The one I had called brother in arms. The man I trusted above all others. His betrayal hadn't come with hatred or regret. No apology trembled on his lips. Only silent, resolute eyes, devoid of warmth, as if everything we had fought for together meant nothing in the end. His face lingered in my fading consciousness, burned into my final moments like a curse without end.
Yet death, it seemed, was not the closing chapter of my story.
Somewhere in that lightless expanse, something stirred. A shimmer. Faint at first, but growing steadily brighter—a solitary sphere of light descending into the abyss like a fallen star. It pulsed softly, and with it came warmth. The warmth was fragile, tentative, like the hesitant touch of life returning to cold bones. Then came pain.
A sudden heaviness clawed its way back into my limbs. Cold air rushed into starving lungs. My vision blurred, shapes bleeding through a curtain of blinding white. Sounds fractured into chaos. Everything was too loud. Too bright. Too real. I gasped—not as a man, but as something far more fragile. As a newborn. "It's a boy!" A woman's voice broke through the noise, thick with exhaustion and awe.
I blinked against the light, confusion thick in my mind. My head, now small and delicate, turned with unfamiliar strain. My body trembled, wrapped in coarse blankets, cradled by warmth unfamiliar yet comforting. The scent of linen and hearthfire clung to the air, mingling with something sweeter—something alive. Through the haze, I glimpsed wooden rafters above, sunlight bleeding soft gold through a windowpane. A simple home. A world far removed from battlefields and betrayal.
A woman's face hovered over mine. Dark hair clung to her sweat-slick skin. Beads of exhaustion shimmered on her brow, yet her amber eyes burned with a fierce, tender light, as if she had poured the entirety of her soul into a single glance. There could be no mistake.
She was my mother in this life. Beside her stood a man—broad, weathered by labor and time. Auburn hair swept back by years of toil. His blue eyes, steady as stone yet trembling with something raw and unspoken, studied me as though afraid I might vanish if he blinked. His rough hands cradled me with reverence, as if holding a treasure he never thought he'd deserve.
"Welcome to the world, son," he whispered. I could not speak. My throat would not obey. Yet within the prison of this frail body, my mind screamed with questions. Why had I been reborn? And why into this simple, quiet life when my last moments had ended in blood and betrayal? But there was no answer. My thoughts dissolved beneath the crushing weight of exhaustion. This body was no longer something I could command with will alone. My eyes slid shut—not in death this time, but in sleep.
It was only the beginning.
… …
Time passed—not in great, sweeping waves but in the gentle rhythm of daily life. I opened my eyes again a day later to soft morning light spilling through curtains and the warmth of arms that held me close. My mother's face greeted me once more, radiant, smiling, her voice humming lullabies older than memory itself. She called me Ray—her precious Ray.
My father, firm but affectionate, would lean down and whisper tales of knights and swords, of honor and kingdoms, his eyes gleaming with the quiet pride only fathers carried. Though I could not speak, I understood every word. My mind—the one forged through years of hardship, betrayal, and death—remained intact beneath this infant shell.
"Say 'papa,' will you?" my father coaxed, tapping his chest with a hopeful grin. I tried. The frustration of being bound by this frail vessel gnawed at me more than I cared to admit. All that escaped was a muffled gurgle, pathetic in its weakness. "He's just a newborn, love," my mother teased, her laughter soft as wind through leaves, her hand resting over his.
"Yes," my father sighed, though a quiet chuckle followed, "but his eyes already carry something fierce." They didn't know. They couldn't possibly. Behind those eyes burned the soul of a man who had died with steel in his back and betrayal in his bones. A man who had once wielded a sword and walked through blood. Now, that same soul endured within a body no stronger than a sparrow's fragile heartbeat.
I accepted it in silence—fed when hungry, held when crying, lulled to sleep beneath the soft flicker of firelight. Slowly, I became part of this world, even as I remained apart from it in thought. And then… my eyes closed again. Not from weariness. Not from need. Something pulled me back. This time, the void greeted me differently.
No longer formless darkness. Here, stars shimmered without light. Silvery mist curled and twisted through the air, weaving patterns like whispered secrets. Shapes moved in spirals, vanishing the moment I focused. I floated—not bound by body or earth—but weightless, aware.
"You've awakened." The voice came clear, soft as breath over water. I turned—or rather, I willed myself to turn—and found myself before something radiant. A figure cloaked in light so profound it sang without sound. She had no form as mortals understood, only the suggestion of a woman, her shape sculpted from brilliance and woven with emotions I could not name.
"Who are you?" I asked. "Where am I? Did I die again? What is this place?"
"So many questions." Amusement rippled through her words like ripples across still water. "I am… what you might call a god. Or a deity. Or whatever mortal tongues prefer. I brought you to this world. A place unlike the one you left behind. Here, magic and aura exist where once there was only ki and spirit."
The void bloomed with silent light. "You are alive," she continued. "This is merely your consciousness adrift." "Why me?" My words did not shake with anger, but with quiet disbelief. "I wasn't a hero. I wasn't a king. I died betrayed and alone." She drifted closer, her radiance wrapping around me like warmth chasing away frost. "You were not chosen for who you were, but for who you could yet become. Your death sparked something ancient. And now, this world's fate trembles. You are a thread in destiny's weave, one that might restore balance… or unravel it entirely."
Her light seemed to pulse with urgency. "This realm faces ruin. Gods from beyond seek dominion, and some have already manifested upon a distant continent. I need your help." I laughed, hollow and bitter. "How can a mere human fight gods?"
"I and five others tried. We failed. I alone survived… though not for long." Her voice softened, sadness bleeding through the divine calm. "I will grant you what power remains, though it will slumber until you earn the right to wield it. In time, you will understand. I have left you something more. Grow stronger than you were in the life you lost, Nova."
The name struck me like thunder in silence. Nova. My name from before. "Thank you… for this second chance. I won't repeat my mistakes. I won't waste this life. I can't promise I'll save the world, but I will protect those I love. That much, I swear." Her light began to fade, pulling the stars with it. "Thank you, child," she whispered. And then… I fell back into the waiting warmth of my new life. This time, I was not drifting without purpose. This time, I had been given a reason to fight. This time I will protect my loved ones."