A few days had kind of… melted into each other since I first opened my one remaining eye.
Time gets weird when your biggest achievement for the day is breathing without tasting copper at the back of your throat. But progress is progress—even if it feels pathetic. I can lift my hand now without my shoulder threatening to dislocate itself out of pure spite. I can stand too. Barely. I look like an eighty-year-old grandpa who lost his cane, but hey—I can stay upright long enough to drag myself out of Elara's cramped spare bed.
Right now, I'm sitting on a weathered stone bench in the courtyard of Silas's house.
The autumn air is crisp, sharp in the lungs. It carries pine, woodsmoke, and that damp, earthy smell the Elderia's mountains always seem to have. It's peaceful.
Unbearably peaceful.
I lean back against the rough stone wall behind the bench, staring at my lap. My body feels like it belongs to someone else. Every breath is a negotiation with my ribs. Inhale—tight. Exhale—grinding.
Lily—the little girl with the chestnut pigtails—was the one who found me. Silas mentioned it casually while checking my bandages yesterday, like he was talking about the weather. I muttered a raspy "thank you" in her general direction back in the cottage, but since that first day… she's been keeping her distance.
'Can't blame her.'
I raise a trembling hand and lightly brush the thick linen wrapped around the left side of my head.
There's nothing underneath it but hollow ache.
My skin's a patchwork of jagged pink scars and half-healed burns. I don't need a mirror to know I look like something dragged out of a nightmare.
Does it disgust her?
My hand falls back to my lap.
My chest tightens—and not because of the ribs this time.
My mind drifts. Of course it does.
The Academy.
The pier.
The festival lights.
Her.
'How would Alisia look at me now?'
The thought hits like a cold stone sinking into my stomach.
I remember the way her silver eyes used to study me. Sharp. Calculating. Intense. 'And when no one else was looking?' Warm.
'Would she flinch now?'
'Would the Ice Queen finally look at me the way the rest of the world does? Like I'm something wrong. Something unnatural.'
Before I can sink completely into that spiral of self-pity, a soft scuff of dirt breaks the silence.
I didn't turn my head—my neck still feels like it's rusted—but I shift my gaze toward the woodshed.
A small shadow stretches across the ground.
Then half a face peeks out from behind the wooden planks.
Big obsidian eyes.
They flick toward me—and immediately dart away like she wasn't just spying.
I exhale slowly and raise my right hand, resting it on my knee, giving her a small, lazy wave.
She freezes.
Eyes wide.
Mission failed.
"Come here," I say. My voice is still rough, missing its usual smoothness, but I keep it soft.
She hesitates, gripping the edge of the shed like it's a life raft. For a second, I think she's going to run back inside.
But she doesn't.
Slowly, carefully, she steps into the sunlight.
Her boots kick up tiny clouds of dust as she shuffles closer, stopping a few feet away from the bench.
She stares at me.
Not at the bandages.
Not at the scars.
Right into my eye.
With this serious, almost scientific intensity.
"Are you…" she starts, chewing on her bottom lip, "…are you some kind of superhero?"
I blink.
That was not on the list of expected questions.
"A superhero?" I echo, a faint, real smile tugging at the unbandaged side of my mouth. "Why would you think that?"
She crosses her arms, looking extremely serious for someone with pigtails.
"Well… because you tore a hole right through the sky in the forest! And you came out of nowhere. And there was this giant, blinding golden light everywhere when you fell."
She nods to herself, very confident in her reasoning.
"Just like in Papa's storybooks. When the world needs saving, the Gods send a hero down in a pillar of golden light."
I laugh.
Big mistake.
The vibration rips through my chest. I double over instantly, coughing and clutching my ribs until the sharp pain settles into a dull throb.
"I'm not joking!" she pouts, stepping closer.
"I know," I wheeze, forcing myself upright again. "I know. Sorry. It's just…"
I look at her.
At her clean face. Her unbroken world.
She really believes it.
She saw a half-dead boy fall out of a torn sky, covered in blood, missing an eye—and her brain turned it into a fairy tale.
'That golden light?'
It wasn't a blessing.
It was the System throwing a cosmic tantrum.
"I'm not a superhero, Lily," I say quietly. The smile fades. "And I never will be. Heroes don't usually end up looking like this."
Her pout deepens.
Disappointed I don't have a cape, probably.
I reach out slowly—making sure not to startle her—and gently pat her head.
She doesn't flinch.
"But," I continue, holding her gaze, "I do owe you my life. So I'll promise you this. If you ever need help… if you ever need someone to protect you…"
I pause.
"I'll be there. Deal?"
She studies me for a long moment.
Then her face breaks into a bright, gap-toothed grin.
"Deal!"
"Lily! Fetch the kindling, girl! The hearth is going cold!" Silas's voice booms from the cottage window.
"Coming, Papa!" she yells.
She gives me a frantic little wave.
"Bye-bye, not-superhero!"
Then she sprints toward the woodpile.
I watch her go, the faint smile lingering until the door shuts behind her.
And then the silence comes back.
And with it—the weight.
I look down at my right hand.
Scarred. Knuckles bruised purple and yellow.
"Right," I mutter. "Let's see how bad it really is."
I open my palm. Close my eye.
And reach out.
Before the Sifting, drawing mana was effortless.
Breathing.
With the [Stellar Mana Authority], I didn't ask the world for power.
I commanded it.
The atmospheric mana used to rush into me eagerly, like it was happy to serve.
I send out the command.
Gather.
Nothing.
The wind passes by me like I don't exist.
My stomach sinks.
It's true.
The Authority is gone.
Ripped out by the Leech.
Nature doesn't recognize me anymore. I'm not sovereign. I'm not special.
I'm just… another mortal.
"Fine," I mutter through clenched teeth. "If I can't command it, I'll pull it manually."
Old-fashioned way.
I force my legs into a meditation posture on the bench. My spine straightens. My bones protest loudly.
Inhale the world.
Exhale the self.
I reach past the void where my Authority used to sit.
And try to manually grab the ambient mana around the village.
The moment raw mana touches my damaged pathways—
My eye snaps open.
It's not just pain.
It's catastrophic.
Like swallowing molten lead and letting it pour through your veins.
A crushing weight slams into my chest—like a thousand-ton carriage rolling over my organs again and again.
"Ghk—!"
My concentration shatters instantly.
The tiny fraction of mana I managed to pull in destabilizes violently.
It turns chaotic.
Rebellious.
It lashes against the cracked walls of my mana core.
I lose balance completely and fall sideways off the bench.
I hit the dirt hard.
Ungraceful. Pathetic.
I curl into myself, gasping for air that feels like razor blades.
My body feels like it's about to implode.
Cold sweat drenches me in seconds.
It takes minutes.
Long, awful minutes.
For the rogue mana to dissipate.
For my heart to stop trying to punch its way out of my chest.
Slowly, I uncurl.
Push myself onto my knees.
Breathing in ragged, wet pulls.
I look at my right hand planted in the dirt.
It's trembling so badly I can't even make a fist.
I stare at the dirt sticking to my skin.
I've never felt this powerless.
Even in my first life, lying in that hospital bed, waiting for the inevitable… I felt a strange calm.
Resignation.
'But this?'
This is humiliating.
I'm a cripple trying to lift a mountain.
I drag myself backward until my spine hits the base of the bench again.
Slump against it.
Tilt my head back to stare at the huge, indifferent blue sky.
My hand moves up, almost unconsciously, touching the bandage over my missing eye.
"How am I supposed to face Liam again?" I whisper.
The bitterness tastes thick.
"How do I survive a world trying to eat me… when I can't even circulate a spark without collapsing?"
And worse—
"How am I supposed to look Alisia in the eyes with the same confidence as before?"
I close my eye.
Let the afternoon sun warm my ruined face.
Ignore the dirt clinging to my clothes.
"It seems I really am just a useless guy right now," I murmur into the empty courtyard. "Broken system. Broken body. Broken mana."
A long, exhausted sigh leaves me.
I stare at the sky a little longer.
"Let's see just how ugly this future is going to get."