The soft glow of a monitor lit the dimly colored room, painting shades of pale blue across the walls.Jin Suho leaned back in his wheelchair, eyes fixed on the flickering anime scene playing before him.
On the screen, a hero stood alone before a burning kingdom — sword drawn, cloak fluttering against the roaring storm.Magic flared like shooting stars across the sky.
"Man… isekai anime really is the best," Suho muttered, his tone half amused, half wistful."If I could actually go to another world like that… it'd be awesome."
He laughed quietly, though there was no one else in the room to hear it.Only the low hum of his computer and the faint sound of city traffic beyond the window kept him company.
His gaze softened. "Yeah… awesome," he whispered again, but the light in his eyes dimmed.
The wheelchair creaked as he shifted slightly, glancing down at his unmoving legs wrapped in a blanket.The metal beneath the blanket gleamed faintly — a constant reminder of what he'd lost.
The accident had happened two years ago. A crash. One he couldn't even remember clearly.The doctors said he was lucky to be alive.But lucky wasn't the word Suho would've used.
He had dropped out of school, isolated himself from friends, and rarely stepped outside.His parents were gone, relatives distant.No one really visited anymore.
"No one cares about me now," he muttered bitterly, staring at the frozen anime credits."So even if I went to an isekai, no one would notice I'm gone."
The thought should've felt sad, but instead, there was a strange calm in it.
He stared at the screen a little longer, then sighed.
"Ah… I'm hungry."
He pushed his wheelchair toward the small kitchen area, the quiet whirr of the wheels filling the silence.Opening the fridge, he found nothing but a half-empty water bottle and an expired carton of milk.
"Figures."
He grabbed his wallet from the desk and rolled toward the door.
"Guess I'll buy something outside."
The night air of Seoul was crisp and slightly cold, brushing against his cheeks as he rolled down the sidewalk.The streets were alive as always — office workers rushing home, students chatting, the smell of fried food and rain lingering in the air.
"Korea never changes," he murmured, watching the crowd. "Always busy, always moving forward."
He smiled faintly. There was comfort in the familiar chaos.
The traffic lights ahead turned red, stopping a line of cars.He waited patiently at the crosswalk, eyes following the glowing signs across the street — convenience stores, food stalls, a little ramen shop with steam curling from the windows.
The light turned green.Pedestrians began to cross.
Suho moved forward, carefully maneuvering his chair across the road.It wasn't easy — the slope was uneven, and his wheels caught slightly on a crack in the pavement.
"Come on…" he muttered, straining to push.
He was halfway across when the faint hum of engines changed — the sound growing louder, faster.He didn't notice the light had turned red again.
A blinding flash of headlights filled his vision.A sharp screech.Then silence.
Time seemed to freeze.
In that frozen moment, Suho's eyes widened — the light so bright it swallowed everything.
So this is how it ends…Killed by a car while trying to buy food. How pathetic.
A faint smile crossed his lips.
"At least it didn't hurt too much," he whispered.
Then, everything turned white.
The whiteness faded slowly.Sound returned — soft, rhythmic, almost like waves brushing against the shore.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
A heartbeat.But it wasn't his own. It was faint and distant, as though coming from someone else.
Jin Suho's consciousness floated in a strange warmth, surrounded by silence.He felt weightless, as if his body no longer existed — yet something was different.There was air. Light. A scent of flowers he'd never smelled before.
"Am I… dead?"
His voice didn't echo. There was no answer.But the warmth around him began to shift.A soft wind brushed across his face — and he felt something solid beneath him.
His eyelids fluttered open.
Light pierced his vision, golden and soft. It wasn't the harsh neon of Seoul, nor the sterile glow of hospital lamps.It was warm sunlight, filtering through sheer curtains that swayed gently in the breeze.
He blinked several times.Then realized — he was lying on a large bed. The sheets were silky, embroidered with gold threads forming patterns of stars and wings.
"Where… am I?"
He tried to sit up, but his limbs wouldn't respond. His arms were too short, too weak.He looked down — and froze.
Tiny hands.Smooth, pale skin.
"What the—"
The words wouldn't come out properly. Only a small, weak sound escaped his lips.His throat burned; his voice was that of an infant.
Panic surged through him.
"I… I can't move properly. I can't even speak… What happened to me?"
He tried again to move, but his body refused. Only his eyes obeyed him — darting around the room in confusion.
The chamber was elegant, far beyond anything from the modern world.Tall windows framed a view of rolling green fields beneath a bright blue sky.Sunlight poured in through crystal glass, casting faint rainbows across the white marble floor.
The walls were carved with intricate designs — symbols that glowed faintly, like living veins of light.And everywhere he looked, faint motes of shimmer floated lazily in the air — mana, though he didn't yet know the word.
Suddenly, the door creaked open.A soft voice drifted in, warm and melodic.
"Cain? Are you awake, my dear?"
A woman stepped into view.For a moment, Suho forgot to breathe.
She was stunning — long silver hair cascading down her shoulders, eyes the color of gentle dawn.Her expression carried an elegant kindness that seemed to calm the world itself.
She approached the bed, her gown gliding softly against the floor.The faint fragrance of lavender surrounded her as she leaned over him.
"Oh, my sweet boy," she whispered, smiling with warmth that melted through his confusion."You've finally opened your eyes."
Suho stared, unable to form words. His mind spun.
Cain? Boy? What is she talking about?
He blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend.The woman reached out, gently brushing his cheek with her hand.
"Look here, Cain. I'm your mother."
Her voice was filled with pure affection, so natural it almost hurt.The name echoed in his mind — Cain.
Cain? Who's Cain?
He tried to respond, but all that came out was a tiny gurgle.His body was weak, fragile — the sound of an actual baby.
No way… this can't be real.Did I reincarnate?
His mind raced, flashing between images of Seoul, the car lights, the blinding white flash.He remembered the impact — the sound of his own fading heartbeat.
"I was hit… I should've died…"
But everything here felt too real. The warmth of her hand, the sound of her heartbeat as she lifted him into her arms — none of it felt like a dream.
Don't tell me… this is another world? An isekai?
He felt her heartbeat through her chest — steady, comforting.For the first time in years, someone held him with genuine care.He almost forgot his panic, sinking into the warmth of her embrace.
"My sweet Cain," she murmured, brushing her lips against his forehead. "Welcome to the world."
Cain.So that was his new name.
And if this truly was an isekai… then maybe — just maybe — this was his second chance.
When she placed him gently back on the soft sheets, he finally noticed the mirror beside the bed.In it, he saw a small infant with silver-white hair and eyes that shimmered like blue crystals.
"That's… me?"
Even as a baby, his features were beautiful, almost ethereal.The resemblance to the woman — his supposed mother — was undeniable.
White hair… blue eyes… This isn't human, is it?
The thought came unbidden, but he didn't care.For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel broken or unwanted.He felt alive.
*If this is another world… then maybe I can live differently this time
Sunlight streamed through the silken curtains, scattering golden dust across the cradle. Cain stirred.Hours had passed since the silver-haired woman who called herself his mother had left the room.The soft warmth of the blanket pressed against his cheek, and faint birdsong echoed beyond the open window.
He blinked slowly. It wasn't a dream. The room's ceiling was carved wood painted with constellations that glimmered faintly, each star humming with an energy he couldn't name. The scent of lilies lingered in the air—a fragrance too refined to exist in any Seoul apartment.
Cain tried to move. His fingers twitched. His arm refused.He exhaled a shaky breath, frustration bubbling. "Right… I'm still just a baby."Even the words came out as faint gurgles.
He stared at the tiny hands in front of him. In his past life those hands could barely push a wheelchair; now they were small, fragile, yet full of potential.Maybe… when I'm seven, I can finally train this body.The thought brought a faint smile to his infant face.
Hours passed.The light shifted from gold to white as noon arrived.Cain's mind, too awake for a child's, began to wander.
How does this world even work? Magic? Gods? Mana?
Something glimmered at the edge of the bed—a leather-bound book resting on a low table beside a crystal lamp. Its cover bore an intricate sigil: a winged sword surrounded by a ring of light. Letters he didn't recognize shimmered, then, as his gaze lingered, they reshaped themselves into words he could somehow understand.
"The Chronicles of Avalon."
His heart skipped. Avalon… so that's where I am.
With awkward determination, he rolled onto his side and reached out.His fingers brushed the book's edge.It slid closer, heavy for a baby but not impossible. Inch by inch, he pulled until it rested against his chest.
The moment his skin met the cover, faint light seeped from the sigil. Pages fluttered open on their own, revealing hand-painted illustrations of towering castles, floating crystals, and silver trees whose roots glowed like veins of light.
The first lines he read made his breath catch.
"When the world was young, the Divine Star descended and sowed its light across the lands.From that light rose Avalon, the kingdom closest to the heavens.Its people were born with mana in their blood, their souls marked by the Star's grace."
He could almost see it: fields of white flowers bending beneath two suns; rivers shimmering with pure mana.Avalon wasn't just a country—it was a living miracle.
He turned the page with trembling fingers.
"The royal bloodline governs the flow of mana through the continent.Beneath them stand the Twelve Noble Houses, each guarding an aspect of the Star's blessing."
A detailed emblem chart filled the page.House Arclight—a silver sword and radiant wing—stood first among them.
Cain's eyes widened. Arclight… that's my family name.
The paragraph below confirmed it.
"House Arclight: Bearers of the Light Vein. Their ancestors forged the first Holy Blade and defended Avalon during the Era of Shadows.The current patriarch, Lord Aldren von Arclight, is hailed as the hero who repelled the Northern War ten years past.His consort, Lady Aria, is a saint-rank healer whose grace is said to rival the stars themselves."
Cain froze, the words echoing inside his mind.So his father was a national hero, his mother a saint.He, a reincarnated boy from Seoul, had been born into one of the most revered families in an entire world.
A laugh—soft and breathless—escaped his lips. "So this is the life I was given…?"
He read on, devouring every line the way he used to devour anime lore back home.The book spoke of mana, the invisible current flowing through all living things.Scholars described it as the Breath of the Star, both life and power.Children of noble birth were said to awaken their Affinity—fire, water, wind, earth, light, or shadow—upon reaching seven years of age. Training before then was dangerous; a body too young could rupture its Veins of Light and lose mana forever.
Cain's mind raced. So I really do have to wait until I'm seven to start training.
He turned another page. A map of Avalon stretched across it—mountain ranges shaped like wings, forests glowing faintly at night, seas said to reflect the stars even in daylight. At the center stood Lunaris, the capital city, crowned by the Celestine Academy, where nobles learned to master their mana.
Beneath the map, elegant script read:
"To serve Avalon is to serve the light.Those who wield it without balance invite ruin, for even light casts a shadow."
That line sent a chill through him.Even light casts a shadow…
He closed the book slowly, thoughts swirling.If the world's strongest kingdom believed that, perhaps Avalon's peace wasn't as simple as it appeared.
Just then, the door creaked.Cain startled, instinctively hugging the book.
A young woman stepped in—early twenties, dressed in a crisp black-and-white maid uniform trimmed with silver thread. Her hair was auburn, tied neatly behind her head, and her emerald eyes widened the instant she saw the infant sitting upright with an open tome in his lap.
"Young Master Cain! Wh-what are you doing?"
Her voice was soft but laced with panic.She hurried over, gently prying the heavy volume from his tiny hands.
"Oh dear, this is The Chronicles of Avalon! Even adults find it difficult to read… how did you—"She stopped mid-sentence, studying his wide blue eyes. For a moment, disbelief flickered into curiosity.
"You… were really reading it, weren't you?"
Cain only blinked. He couldn't speak, not yet.But the faint tilt of his head and the calm in his gaze seemed to answer for him.
The maid sighed, half amused, half exasperated.
"You're full of surprises, Young Master." She smiled then—a warm, genuine smile that softened the sharp lines of her uniformed poise. "My name is Anna. I serve Lady Aria and help care for you while she's away."
Anna placed the book back on the table and brushed a hand through his soft white hair.
"You have your mother's hair and eyes. Truly a child of light."
Cain watched her, fascinated. The touch felt gentle, real. Not sterile like hospital hands—alive and warm.When she straightened, sunlight caught the pendant at her neck, a tiny crystal shaped like a teardrop. Mana shimmered faintly within it.
"Rest now, little master," Anna whispered. "Your mother will return soon."
She left, closing the door behind her.
Silence returned.Cain lay back against the pillows, eyes on the book's glowing emblem.The sigil pulsed once, faint but steady, as if the very house recognized his touch.
Avalon… Twelve Houses… Mana Affinity…His mind replayed every word, weaving them into an understanding of the world he now called home.Unlike Earth, where effort meant pain and limitation, this place seemed built on the idea that the soul itself could shape reality.
A soft breeze drifted through the window.Far beyond the garden walls, he glimpsed the city—a sprawl of white stone towers and crystalline spires shining under the twin suns. Airships floated lazily between them, their sails glowing with runes.
The sight stole his breath.So this is Avalon… my new world.
And as his eyelids grew heavy, the faint hum of mana filled the room, a lullaby of light that seemed to whisper directly into his heart.
"Welcome home, child of the Arclight."
He drifted into sleep with that voice echoing through him—unaware that somewhere deep beneath the castle, an ancient relic had stirred for the first time in a hundred years, its core resonating with the heartbeat of a newborn boy.
The night sky above Avalon shimmered with stars that looked far closer than those from Earth—so close that it seemed Cain could almost reach out and touch them. From the window of the nursery, the constellation known as Seraphis' Wing glowed brightest, its shape resembling a sword surrounded by light.
Cain often stared at those stars before sleeping. He didn't fully understand why, but something about them stirred his heart—like they were calling to him.
That night was particularly quiet. The mansion's halls were silent except for the faint hum of magic crystals that kept the air warm. A pale luminescent mist drifted across the courtyard, glowing faintly under the moonlight. Avalon's nights were alive with mana; it danced in the air like fireflies, invisible yet full of power.
Cain sat upright in his crib, his small hands gripping the blanket.His body was still weak, but he had grown accustomed to the rhythm of this world—the hum of mana, the warmth that filled the air, the faint tingling sensation on his skin whenever his mother used her healing magic nearby.
That feeling… I can sense it sometimes. It's like warmth inside my chest—almost alive.Could it be… mana?
He closed his eyes and tried to focus.
Silence.Then—A faint pulse.
Somewhere deep within him, like a heartbeat beneath another heartbeat, a spark flickered. A gentle wave of warmth spread through his tiny body, traveling from his chest to his fingertips.
His breath hitched.
That's it.Mana… it's real.
The moment lasted only a second before fading away, leaving behind an empty hollowness. Cain exhaled sharply, sweat forming on his brow. His infant body wasn't yet ready to channel such energy—but for him, even that brief touch was proof that he wasn't powerless anymore.
In my past life, I was trapped—confined to a chair, useless.But here… even if it takes years… I'll stand. I'll walk again.
As he drifted into thought, faint footsteps echoed outside the door. The familiar sound of calm heels against marble. The door opened, and his mother entered—Lady Elyssia Von Arclight, draped in a flowing gown of silver threads that shimmered like moonlight.
Her eyes, blue as a summer sky, softened as she approached the crib.
"Cain, you're still awake?" she whispered gently, her tone like a melody.
Cain blinked up at her, his heart inexplicably calm. Even though he couldn't speak, he wanted to tell her about everything he'd felt—the mana, the warmth, the pulse. But only a soft murmur escaped his lips.
Elyssia smiled, brushing his white hair aside. "You're growing faster than I imagined. Your father will be proud."
At the mention of his father, Cain's curiosity flared. He had only seen the man a few times—tall, broad-shouldered, always in uniform. A knight of golden armor and calm eyes that reflected endless experience.
Lord Kael Von Arclight, the Radiant Blade of Avalon, one of the kingdom's strongest knights and bearer of the Sword of Lumina.
The family servants often whispered tales of his feats—how he once fought alongside the Emperor himself in the Battle of Solara Rift, where an army of shadow beasts threatened the capital.
Cain's gaze drifted toward the sword mounted on the wall above the fireplace—a silver blade engraved with runes that pulsed faintly in the dark.
Elyssia followed his eyes and smiled. "That sword has guarded our family for generations. The Sword of Lumina was forged from a fallen star, blessed by the Archangel Seraphis. It burns with light whenever darkness approaches."
She leaned closer, her expression soft. "And one day, my dear Cain, that light will protect you too."
Cain's tiny hands reached toward the sword instinctively, though it was far out of reach. A faint warmth stirred again in his chest—as if responding to the sword's glow. Elyssia tilted her head slightly, sensing the energy.
"…How curious," she whispered. "It's as if the Lux Vitae already recognizes you."
Cain didn't understand every word, but something about her tone and the faint pulse in his body told him it was something important.
Lux Vitae… the Light of Life.So that's the blessing of our bloodline.
Elyssia kissed his forehead gently. "Sleep, my little light. Tomorrow, your father will return from the frontlines. Perhaps you'll finally meet him properly."
Cain's heart fluttered.
Father…
The thought echoed in his mind as his eyelids grew heavy.
Morning came with the golden chime of Avalon's dawn bells. The city was alive once again—streets bustling with carriages powered by mana stones, and knights patrolling in armor that glowed faintly under the sun.
From his room, Cain could see the distant spires of the capital shining like mirrors. Avalon wasn't just beautiful—it was alive, built upon ancient ley lines that drew in mana from across the world. Every stone, every building, seemed to hum with quiet power.
Anna entered the room carrying a tray of herbal milk, bowing politely as always.
"Good morning, Young Master Cain," she said softly. "The Lord has returned. The Lady asked me to prepare you."
Cain's eyes widened slightly. His father—Kael Von Arclight—was here.
Anna carefully lifted him into her arms, wrapping him in a soft white cloak embroidered with golden threads. As they walked through the corridor, Cain took in every detail of the Arclight estate.
The hallways were lined with portraits of past ancestors—knights, scholars, and healers—all bearing the same silver hair and blue eyes as his family. Each painting emitted a faint aura of mana, as if preserving the presence of their souls.
Crystalline lamps floated beside the walls, lighting the way with gentle, radiant glows. Through the windows, he saw the inner courtyard where young knights were training—swords clashing, spells bursting into colored light.
This world… it's beautiful.No—alive.
When they entered the great hall, Cain's gaze immediately locked onto the man standing at its center.
He was tall, his presence commanding yet calm. His armor was white-gold, marked with the crest of Avalon. His hair was the same shade of silver as Elyssia's, though his eyes were sharp and golden—like sunlight captured in glass.
"Kael," Elyssia greeted, stepping forward with a graceful smile.
Kael's gaze softened when he saw her—and then shifted to the bundle in Anna's arms. His expression melted into warmth.
"So this is him," he said, his deep voice echoing softly through the hall. "My son… Cain Von Arclight."
Cain looked up, meeting his father's golden eyes. Something within him stirred again—the same warmth as before, but deeper, stronger.
This light… it feels familiar.
Kael reached out, placing a hand gently on his son's head. The moment his palm touched Cain's hair, a faint glimmer of light radiated between them.
Elyssia gasped softly. "The resonance… already?"
Kael smiled faintly. "He carries the light within. Just like his ancestors."
The glow faded slowly, leaving behind a subtle warmth in the air.
Kael turned to his wife. "Elyssia, our child may awaken early. His mana… it's already reacting."
Elyssia nodded. "Then the prophecy may hold true after all."
Cain's heart raced.
Prophecy?
The adults didn't elaborate, but Cain could feel it—something heavy lingered in their tone. A destiny that had already begun to shape around him.
As the day ended, Cain was placed back in his crib, but sleep wouldn't come. His mind burned with questions.
What prophecy?Why did the Lux Vitae react to him so soon?And what kind of world awaited beyond Avalon's borders?
He looked once more at the night sky. The stars above Avalon shimmered in divine silence—watching, waiting.
Cain clenched his small fists.
No matter what awaits me… I'll grow strong enough to walk this world on my own terms.This time… I won't be weak.
The faint pulse of light in his chest answered him, glowing gently in rhythm with his heartbeat.
The Light of Life had begun to awaken.