Chapter Text
Darkness. A suffocating void enveloped him, pressing down like an unbearable weight.
Where am I? What’s happening? Am I... dead?
His thoughts spiraled in the emptiness, searching for an anchor—something, anything to make sense of the overwhelming nothingness.
Hello, child.
A voice, deep and calm, yet echoing as if it came from every direction at once, cut through the silence.
Startled, he turned—or at least, he thought he did. His senses were warped, unreliable in this place. Before him, a figure materialized from the shadows, its form shifting between clarity and obscurity, as if it were both there and not there at the same time.
“Who… who are you?” he managed to ask, his voice trembling. The figure remained still, its presence unnervingly serene.
I am many things, but for now, you may think of me as a guide.
“A guide?” His confusion deepened. “Where am I? Am I dead?”
The figure tilted its head ever so slightly, as though amused by his questions.
Yes, you are dead. But that’s not the most interesting part, is it? Tell me, child, do you know how you died?
How I died?
Of course, he knew. He had to. It was...
His thoughts stuttered, fragments of memories slipping through his grasp like water through his fingers. There was nothing—no clarity, no answer.
The figure’s lips curled into an enigmatic smile.
Exactly. You died without even understanding the reason for your demise. A pitiful end, don’t you think?
Anger flared within him, cutting through his confusion like a blade. “What do you mean? If I’m dead, I must’ve had a reason! People don’t just—just die for no reason!”
The figure remained unperturbed, its tone detached but laced with an undercurrent of mystery.
Oh, there was a reason. In fact, there was someone—a specific individual—behind it all. But why rush to the truth? For now, let’s just say your death was orchestrated.
“Someone… killed me?” he whispered, disbelief coloring his words.
Yes, though they didn’t just stop at you. This same someone caused the death of your parents and ensured that suffering became a constant companion in your life. Does that knowledge stir nothing within you?
His breath hitched, the weight of the revelation crashing down on him. Memories of pain, loss, and hardship surged forward, each one now tinged with the possibility that they hadn’t been mere misfortune.
“Why are you telling me this?” His voice was hoarse, his emotions swirling between anger and despair. “Why would you even care?”
The figure chuckled softly, though there was no warmth in the sound.
Care? Such an interesting assumption. Perhaps I am merely entertained by your plight. Or perhaps… I see potential in you. It matters little. What does matter is this: I can offer you a choice.
The air around them seemed to hum with tension as the figure continued.
You can reincarnate into a world where that someone resides and confront them. Or you can choose to sleep eternally, leaving this unfinished business behind.
The weight of the decision struck him like a blow. Reincarnation? Revenge? It all felt surreal, yet the idea of simply letting things end like this filled him with a sense of injustice he couldn’t ignore.
“What happens if I… reincarnate?” The figure’s smile widened, its expression inscrutable.
You will not retain all your memories. Only fragments, enough to guide you. However, I will provide you with a book containing information you’ll need. And certain abilities will follow you as well. That much, I can offer.
“And if I refuse?” The figure shrugged, its aloofness almost mocking.
Then you will sleep eternally, free from the burdens of this existence. The choice is entirely yours. I am not here to persuade you, only to present the path.
He clenched his fists, his mind racing. The thought of facing someone who had caused so much pain—of finding answers, of making them pay—ignited something deep within him.
“I’ll do it,” he said firmly. “I’ll reincarnate.” The figure’s eyes glinted, though whether in approval or amusement, he couldn’t tell.
As I expected. Very well. But know this, child—your journey will not be easy. What lies ahead may break you if you are not prepared.
“I don’t care. I’ll do it anyway.” The figure’s laughter was soft but carried an edge of mystery.
Good. Then let us begin.
With a single snap of its fingers, the darkness began to crack, light spilling through the fractures and flooding the void.
I wish you a life worth remembering, Kim Rok Soo.
The figure’s voice was the last thing he heard before the light consumed him, and with it, the promise of a new beginning—and a chance to rewrite his fate.
“Ugh!”
Cale groaned, clutching the area of his torso where the fire had struck him. The pain was sharp and unrelenting, radiating through his body as he lay hidden beneath the corpses of fallen soldiers. The metallic scent of blood and the acrid stench of burnt flesh filled the air, suffocating him.
Through the small gaps between the bodies, he could see it—the Hero, Choi Han, locked in a ferocious battle against the White Star. Sparks flew and the ground quaked as their attacks collided. It was an intense, almost surreal sight, yet it was real.
This war, a conflict that had spanned the continent for 20 long years, had claimed countless lives. His comrades. His family. Everyone he had cared about.
Cale’s fingers dug into the dirt beneath him as the memories surged—his father’s stern but loving voice, his mother’s gentle hands, the laughter of Basen and Lily. All gone. He was alone.
As he struggled to stay conscious, his gaze returned to the battlefield. The White Star, an enigmatic figure wearing a mask that covered everything above his nose, grabbed Choi Han’s arm with a hand that emitted ominous, black smoke. The villain’s voice was calm yet cold, sending chills down Cale’s spine.
“Time is wrapped oddly for you,” the White Star said, his tone mocking yet curious, as if Choi Han were an amusing puzzle.
Then it happened. The White Star’s head turned, his piercing gaze locking directly onto Cale, as if he had sensed him amidst the carnage. Cale’s blood ran cold.
In an instant, a ball of fire shot from the White Star’s hand, heading straight for him. Cale barely had time to react before the searing heat consumed him.
Now, here he was, lying under the weight of lifeless bodies, his own life slipping away. The fire had left him broken, his strength fading rapidly.
‘I guess this is it,’ he thought bitterly. Tears welled in his eyes as he pictured their faces one last time.
Father. Miss Violan. Basen. Lily.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered.
His eyes fluttered closed.
**
When he opened them again, he was no longer on the battlefield.
He was in a room, though calling it a "room" didn’t feel entirely accurate. The space stretched endlessly, cloaked in darkness that seemed alive, shifting and flowing like water. Yet despite the absence of any light source, the area wasn’t oppressive. It glowed faintly, an unsettling contrast of emptiness and clarity.
His breath hitched as a figure emerged from the shadows. It moved slowly, deliberately, as though time bent to its will. Its form was humanoid but indistinct, its features shrouded in a haze that defied focus.
You’re awake.
The voice was calm, smooth, and emotionless. It lacked warmth yet carried an air of gravity that demanded attention.
Cale sat up cautiously, his body feeling strangely weightless. He stared at the figure, unease curling in his chest.
“Who are you? Where am I?”
The figure tilted its head slightly, the gesture subtle yet strangely unsettling.
Who I am is irrelevant. Where you are… is nowhere and everywhere. A crossroads, if you will. A place for choices.
The cryptic response only deepened Cale’s wariness. His eyes narrowed. “A crossroads for what?”. The figure’s lips curved into a faint smile, though it carried no warmth.
For you, Cale Henituse. To decide whether you wish to let your story end here… or rewrite it.
Cale froze. The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. “Rewrite it? What are you talking about? The figure’s gaze, though obscured, felt piercing, as though it could see through him.
You were not meant to die this way, not yet. But the world is in chaos, and your role within it has been distorted. I am offering you a chance to fix it. To return and make things right.
“Why would you care?” Cale asked, his voice tinged with suspicion. “What do you gain from this?”. The figure’s expression didn’t change, its tone remaining impassive.
Care? Gain? Such mortal concepts. Let’s just say… your story amuses me. And the threads of fate, when unraveled, create more interesting patterns. But whether you act or not is of no consequence to me. The choice is yours alone.
The words sent a shiver down Cale’s spine. There was no urgency, no push for him to accept—only a cold detachment, as though the figure truly didn’t care what he decided.
Cale swallowed hard. “If I accept, what happens?”
You will regress. Return to the past. The world will be reset, and you will have the chance to change its course.
“And what about the White Star? He’s too powerful. I wouldn’t stand a chance against him.” The figure inclined its head slightly.
You won’t be alone. I will ensure you have the assistance you need—someone to tip the scales. But do not expect miracles, Cale Henituse. Your choices will determine the outcome.
Cale hesitated. The offer sounded surreal, too good to be true. Yet the thought of seeing his family again, of undoing everything that had gone wrong, was enough to drown out his doubts.
“And if I refuse?"
The figure’s faint smile returned.
Then you will sleep. Eternally. Free from pain, free from regret. It is not a bad option. But the weight of what you leave behind will remain… unresolved.
His chest tightened. He clenched his fists, his jaw setting with determination.
“I’ll do it,” he said finally. he figure studied him for a moment, then raised its hand, the motion deliberate.
So be it. Prepare yourself.
Snap.
The sound echoed in the void as cracks of light tore through the darkness. The world around him began to shatter, fragments of light enveloping him.
Good luck, Cale Henituse. Try not to waste this second chance.
The figure’s voice was the last thing he heard before the light consumed him entirely.