Chapter 2

Issac jolted awake, his heart racing as memories of the dungeon flooded back—his teammates falling, the monstrous leader looming over him, and the overwhelming sense of despair. Panic tightened in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

But then, a new sensation coursed through him. He felt a rush of energy, awakening powers he had never known. As he inhaled, the air around him responded, swirling with wind that danced at his fingertips.

"Welcome to the system! Congratulations on your first death. Ready for a retry?" a voice chimed in his mind.

Issac blinked in surprise. "What is happening?"

"Just your personal guide for this new journey," the voice replied cheerfully. "You'll need all the help you can get. How does it feel to discover your powers?"

His thoughts raced. Time travel? New abilities? The weight of his past life pressed on him—could he really change what happened?

Before he could process it further, the door burst open. His father stumbled in, smelling of alcohol, anger radiating from him. "Did you eat the last can of food?" he demanded.

"I didn't—"

"Stop lying! You think you can just take what you want?" His father's voice was harsh and unforgiving.

Before Issac could respond, his father pushed him hard against the wall. Pain shot through him, but he held back the hurt. "Get out!" his father shouted.

Feeling a mix of fear and determination, Issac stepped back, the system voice breaking through his thoughts. "Looks like it's time for you to leave. Good luck on your next adventure!"

With resolve building inside him, Issac turned and fled from the room. He had a chance to rewrite his story, and he was determined to make it count.

With nowhere else to go, Issac found a quiet spot in an alley, the cool night air sending shivers down his spine. He settled against a wall, pulling his knees to his chest. As exhaustion began to weigh on him, he closed his eyes, trying to block out the reality of his situation.

"Are you seriously going to sleep here?" the voice of the system, now dubbed "Alfred," piped up.

Issac sighed. "What else am I supposed to do? I can't go home."

"Maybe you could find a nice bench? This isn't exactly the most glamorous location for your first night back," Alfred quipped.

"Right, because a park bench would look so much better. I can just imagine the headlines: 'Local Teen Found Sleeping on Park Bench, Talking to Himself.'"

"Hey, I'm just trying to help you," Alfred replied, a hint of playful indignation in its tone. "Besides, talking to yourself is a sign of genius."

"Or insanity," Issac countered, smirking to himself. "What's next? You'll tell me I'm the chosen one destined to save the world?"

"Actually, I was going to suggest you figure out how to use those powers of yours," Alfred said. "You know, the whole 'saving the world' thing could be on your to-do list."

"Yeah, I'll add that right under 'find food' and 'avoid my father.'"

"Good plan! Let's start with the basics. You have access to infinite storage space and can check your body status at any time."

"Great, just what I need—an app telling me how tired I am while I'm sleeping on the street," Issac said, rolling his eyes. "What's the status report? 'You're a mess'?"

"More like 'slightly bruised and in need of food.' I'd recommend finding some soon."

"Gee, thanks for the tip, Alfred. You should charge for this advice."

"Just doing my job, Issac. Now, maybe we could brainstorm a strategy for your next steps? You can't just sleep all night. You need a plan!"

"Alright, Mr. Know-It-All. What do you suggest?" Issac replied, a smirk on his face.

"First, check your surroundings. Make sure it's safe, then look for a place to crash that isn't an alley. After that, we can explore your powers."

Issac chuckled, feeling a little more at ease. "You know, talking to you isn't half bad, Alfred. Even if I might look crazy doing it."

"Hey, it's not crazy if you're saving the world. Now get some rest. Tomorrow's a big day."

As he drifted off, a sense of determination filled him. He might be sleeping on the streets, but he was ready to face the future —starting with getting to know his newfound powers and the quirky system guiding him.

When morning light peeked through the narrow alleyway, Issac stirred awake, feeling slightly more refreshed despite his surroundings. The gnawing hunger in his stomach reminded him that he needed to find food first.

He made his way to a nearby help center, a small building with a warm atmosphere. Inside, volunteers served simple meals to those in need. The scent of bread and soup wafted through the air, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.

"Hey there, you look like you could use a meal," a friendly volunteer said, handing him a steaming bowl.

"Thanks," Issac replied internally, grateful as he dug in. As he ate, he felt a flicker of normalcy return, if only for a moment.

After filling his stomach, he decided to head to the government association for registering Espers. He knew he needed to formalize his abilities, especially since time was of the essence—literally.

As he walked into the registration office, a sense of anticipation buzzed in the air. Rows of desks lined the walls, each attended by officials who processed paperwork and conducted evaluations. He approached the front desk, where a stern-looking woman greeted him.

"Name and Esper class?" she asked, her tone no-nonsense.

"Issac Stross, C-class Esper," he replied silently, suppressing a grin.

"C-class, huh? We'll see about that. Follow me," she instructed, leading him to a testing room filled with various devices.

One machine in particular caught his eye—a sleek device designed to measure an Esper's power. The woman gestured for him to stand in front of it. "Place your hand here and focus your energy."

Issac complied, channeling his wind powers. The device hummed to life, and to his surprise, the screen flashed a bright "B" ranking.

"What? B-class?" he thought, confusion washing over him. This doesn't make sense.

"Is there a problem?" the official raised an eyebrow, her expression flat.

"I thought I was C-class. How did I rank up?" he wondered internally, trying to process this.

"Maybe you should ask your friend there," she said, glancing slightly to the side, as if sensing something.

Wait, you mean Alfred? Issac thought, recalling the snarky system.

"Exactly! Your past lives gave you a unique advantage. Those experiences have carried over, allowing you to access a higher power level than what you'd normally start with," Alfred chimed in within his mind.

"Just keep it together, kid," the official warned, narrowing her eyes. "You're not the first to have a... unique companion."

She can sense you? Issac thought, surprised.

"Relax. I'm not a threat," Alfred assured him, his voice smooth. "Just a helpful guide."

As the registration process continued, Issac felt a sense of purpose solidifying within him. He had a long way to go, but with a little help from his system—and a lot of resolve—he was ready to face whatever came next.

---

Over the next few months, Issac learned to navigate his new life with a blend of caution and determination. Surviving on the streets became a daily challenge, but he adapted quickly, using his wind powers to his advantage. He discovered how to create small gusts to distract people or snatch loose coins from unsuspecting passersby.

Each morning, he returned to the help center for food, charming volunteers with carefully curated tales of his past. In exchange for meals, he helped out with odd jobs, sweeping floors and carrying supplies.

Despite the hardship, he found a rhythm. Nights were often restless, filled with echoes of his previous life and the weight of the choices ahead. During these sleepless nights, Alfred became a constant companion, providing both information and banter to ease his mind.

"Think you'll ever get a bed again?" Alfred teased one night as Issac lay staring at the stars.

"Would be nice, but for now, I'm getting used to the outdoors," Issac replied, rolling over to find a more comfortable position on the hard ground.

"Right. Because sleeping on the street is such a luxury," Alfred quipped.

As the weeks rolled on, Issac began to delve into dungeon diving. He initially joined small groups of local Espers, mostly struggling newcomers like himself, who sought out low-level dungeons to test their skills. The excitement of entering the dungeons was intoxicating, even if the reality was often grueling.

His first few dives were fraught with danger but provided invaluable experience. He faced minor monsters—goblins, swarms of rabid squirrels, and the occasional rogue Esper. Each encounter honed his powers, allowing him to master wind techniques and learn to combine them creatively. He experimented with using wind to create barriers or propel himself away from danger.

However, Issac soon discovered a troubling truth: while he could harness his powers effectively, he lacked compatibility with the Guides. Each time he sought their cleansing, their powers felt like knives tearing at his insides. Unlike others, he didn't experience the healing effect; instead, the pain intensified with each cleansing session.

"Welcome to your personal hell," Alfred commented one evening after a particularly painful encounter with a Guide. "I guess your time-restart ability comes with a price."

"What a lovely perk," Issac muttered, wincing at the memory of the searing sensation.

Determined to overcome this challenge, Issac began seeking alternative methods for cleansing himself. He experimented with machinery used for purification, but it was slow and often ineffective. As the weeks passed, he learned to manage the pain, but it was a constant reminder of the darkness that lingered within him.

Despite these setbacks, he persisted in dungeon diving, focusing on honing his wind abilities. He formed bonds with a few key individuals: a sharp-witted fire Esper named Lila, who shared his humor, and a stoic earth Esper named Malik, whose strength became a protective shield for the group.

As they tackled increasingly challenging dungeons, Issac's powers flourished. He mastered the art of creating small tornadoes, launching blades of wind with precision. Yet, he felt the burden of not being able to rely on the Guides like others could. His incompatibility made him an outlier, fueling a determination to find a way to make it work.

One particularly tense night, after a successful dive, Issac sat around a fire with Lila and Malik, discussing plans for the future.

"We need to find a way to protect our own," Lila said, her voice steady. "There are too many out there who don't care about us."

Malik nodded, his eyes serious. "We should form a network. Look out for each other."

Issac felt a spark of hope igniting within him. He was no longer just a lost soul; he had found a place among others who shared his goals. Together, they could fight back against the darkness creeping into their lives.

As the fire crackled and the stars twinkled above, Issac smiled, feeling the warmth of camaraderie for the first time in a long while.