The system

There was a silent pause that stretched on, the weight of it almost unbearable. My mind raced, wondering what he must have done to deserve such a punishment.

Finally, he spoke, his tone even. "I'll tell you when the time is right."

Eeek. This guy gets more annoying by the minute.

"Why didn't you pick me?" I blurted, frustration seeping into my voice. "If you trust me enough to carry out this task, then I suppose I could be your successor."

Zurique tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk playing at his lips. "Do you want to be one?"

"No," I said immediately, the thought alone sending a shiver down my spine. Just imagining the weight of that responsibility was overwhelming.

"There you have it," he said with a shrug, as if that settled everything. "Plus, you're not originally from my world. You weren't created to handle the divine balance of Elyria."

Before I could question further, his expression shifted to one of urgency. "Time is running out. The person whose body you'll be possessing… their life is at risk. The time frame between this realm and theirs is different, and I can't control it to pause—at least not with my current abilities."

"Wait, what?" I asked, alarmed.

He ignored my panic, stepping closer. "We need to wrap this up quickly."

Before I could protest further, his hand pressed firmly against my stomach. A warmth spread through me, followed by a brilliant, swirling glow that danced across my form. The colorful light was vibrant, almost alive, in stark contrast to the white radiance I'd been emitting.

"What's happening?" I asked, my voice shaking slightly as the light grew stronger, wrapping around me.

"You're being prepared," he said simply, his voice calm despite the urgency in his actions.

"My world runs on magic, and you'll need it to survive," Zurique said, his voice steady as he raised his left hand to my head. His palm gently touched my forehead, and I felt a sudden warmth, like a spark igniting deep within me.

"This," he continued, "will help you navigate your path."

Then, bringing both hands to my left and right ears, he added, "When you reach a temple and need me, call my name, and I will respond." His tone held an air of finality, as though these instructions were all I needed to survive what was coming.

As he retracted his hands, a door appeared behind him. It radiated a blinding light, so bright I couldn't see what lay beyond it.

"I'm counting on you… Aria," he said, his voice filled with an odd mix of seriousness and hope.

Wait. Who TF is Aria?!

Before I could voice my confusion, the light pulled at me, like an invisible current sweeping me off my feet. I was sucked into the glow, my form disappearing into its brilliance.

As the light faded, leaving the room shrouded in shadows once more, a figure emerged from the darkness.

The figure was tall and broad-shouldered, his frame exuding a quiet but undeniable power. His form was cloaked in a deep black robe that seemed to shift and ripple as if alive, its edges fading into mist. His face, partially obscured by a hood, revealed sharp, angular features—cheekbones carved like stone and eyes that glowed faintly with an eerie crimson hue.

His presence was domineering, the kind that commanded respect and sent a chill down one's spine. He wasn't as overwhelming as his master, but there was an air of restrained menace about him, like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Why didn't you tell her about him?" the servant asked, his deep, resonant voice carrying a weight that seemed to fill the room.

Zurique turned to face his servant, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly, a genuine smile spread across his face—calm, natural, and unsettlingly human.

"Now where's the fun in that?" he replied, his voice carrying a hint of mischief.

Where am I?

My eyes fluttered open, but darkness greeted me. Panic surged through my chest as a terrifying thought took root—had he sent me into the body of someone blind? My breathing quickened as I struggled to understand, but slowly, ever so slowly, my vision adjusted. The faint outlines of a confined space became clearer.

A cage.

I was in a cage.

The walls around me were draped in a coarse fabric, cutting off any view of the outside world. I stretched out my hands instinctively, only to feel the cold, unforgiving bite of iron shackles binding my wrists to my ankles. The realization hit me like a blow: this wasn't just confinement; this was torment.

Pain rippled through my body as I tried to shift. My limbs ached, my joints protested, and my muscles felt cramped and strained. Whoever this girl was—this body I now inhabited—she had been folded unnaturally to fit into this small, suffocating space. How long had she been like this?

How do I get out of here?

The thought barely formed before the sound of footsteps reached my ears. Two sets, heavy and deliberate, approached with unnerving precision. My heart pounded, each beat a desperate cry for escape.

The fabric covering the cage was yanked away, and the chill of the night air rushed in. The sudden exposure made me shiver, though I wasn't sure if it was the cold or the growing fear gnawing at my insides.

I squinted against the faint moonlight, taking in my surroundings. The cage was crude, its bars rusted and uneven, and the nightdress I wore looked like it had seen worse days than its owner. It was filthy, torn, and clung uncomfortably to my sore skin.

The two men loomed before me, their shadows cast long and menacing by the dim firelight flickering somewhere behind them. Their faces were obscured, but their intentions were clear: I was trapped, and they were in control.

""Oi, she's still alive," came a mocking voice as the fabric covering my cage was yanked away.

My eyes adjusted to the sudden exposure, revealing two men standing over me. Their presence made my skin crawl.

"Hello, princess," the second man sneered, his eyes raking over me with a lecherous glint that turned my stomach.

"She's not a princess, you idiot," the first one retorted, rolling his eyes at his companion. "Just because her daddy's a duke doesn't make her royalty. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Whatever," the other man replied dismissively. "It's not like I went to some fancy school or anything." He smirked, his tone dripping with mockery.

"You thirsty there, love?" he continued, holding up a jug of water. For a brief, fleeting moment, I thought he might offer me some. But his grin twisted into something cruel. "I've got water for you… right here."

He tilted the jug, and the cold liquid came pouring down—not into my mouth, but over my head. The icy water soaked my hair and clothes, sending a chill through my already aching body.

Their mocking laughter rang out, grating on my ears like nails on a chalkboard. My hands balled into fists as I glared at them, fury burning in my chest. But I was powerless. I couldn't fight back, and that realization only stoked my anger further.

When they had their fill of amusement, the men carelessly threw the fabric back over the cage, plunging me into darkness once more. Their voices faded as their footsteps retreated into the distance.

I sat there, seething, trying to push past the humiliation, when suddenly a voice—flat and mechanical—rang out in my head.

{System activating… in 3… 2… 1.}

{System activated.}

{Activating host memory in 3… 2… 1.}

{Host memory activated.}

Suddenly, flashes of memories began to flood my mind, overwhelming and rapid, like a torrent I couldn't stop. They weren't mine—but hers. The memories of the girl whose body I now inhabited.

With every clip, fragmented pieces of her life fell into place, painting a picture of who she was. Her name—now my name—was Aria Zarek.

Her father, Duke Zarek, was a powerful and influential man in the kingdom. A figure admired and respected by all. Her older brother, a prodigy, was often away, consumed with his rigorous sword training, preparing for a future as great as his father's.

But Aria's life wasn't the fairy tale one might expect from a duke's daughter. Her mother, the original duchess, had tragically died giving birth to her. Left with no choice, her father remarried, not for love but for politics—a necessary alliance to strengthen the family's position.

The new duchess, however, was anything but kind. Jealous and threatened by the duke's children, she harbored a simmering resentment. Yet, unable to challenge her stepson, who was protected by his potential and prestige, she directed all her ire at Aria.

Growing up under the shadow of her stepmother's cruelty, Aria became timid and reserved, afraid to voice her grievances or fight back.

But her hardships didn't end there. In this world, royals and nobles prided themselves on their mana cores—magical reservoirs activated in childhood. Most children manifested their cores by the age of 10, the less fortunate by 12. Prodigies like her brother, however, awakened their cores as early as 9.

Aria waited patiently, believing that once her core awakened, everything would change. She would no longer be an embarrassment or the subject of whispered ridicule. She would finally belong.

But nothing happened.

Year after year, no core emerged. Her family, renowned for their powerful bloodline, became the subject of scorn. The whispers grew louder at every event they attended. To shield themselves from further humiliation, they stopped bringing her along. She became a ghost, her existence hidden away to protect the family name.

And yet, despite the shame she brought to the Zarek name, her father still loved her. A flicker of warmth in an otherwise cold and unforgiving life.

On the night of her eighteen birthday, the memories showed her father away on business, unable to celebrate with her. Alone in her room, she had been kidnapped, drugged, and smuggled out of the estate. For two weeks now, her captors had been transporting her across treacherous terrain, heading to a distant kingdom where she was to be sold as a slave.

The pain of It all hit me like a tidal wave. These memories—so vivid, so raw—felt as though they were mine. I clenched my teeth, willing myself to endure the torrent of emotions. After what felt like an eternity, the storm within finally subsided.

I understood now. This truly was the world of magic.

My eyes widened, glowing faintly with a mixture of realization and anticipation.

{This was what you got from all that?}

The sudden voice made me jump, a sharp alarm piercing through my mind before I remembered—it was the voice from earlier.

"What are you?" I asked cautiously, my voice hoarse and cracking. It was the first time I'd heard it. This body hadn't tasted water in days, maybe weeks.

{I am System 005. I was created and assigned to you by God Zurique.}

If I didn't know better, I'd say it sounded proud.

"So, you were created just for me?"

{Correct.}

"Then why the numbers? And what exactly are you supposed to do for me?"

{The numbers serve as a reminder—you have five years to complete your goal. As for my purpose, I am here to guide you, help you grow stronger, and ensure you are not misguided.}

Ah, so that's what he meant when he touched my head back then. This system was his way of helping me navigate this world.

How… generous.

"Alright, I'll just call you System. And if you're supposed to guide me, how do I get out of here?"

{To get out of here, you'll need to tap into your mana cores. Close your eyes and focus.}

"My… mana cores?" I echoed, confused.

{Yes, you have them. Close your eyes, and focus.}

Reluctantly, I obeyed. My breathing slowed, and I shut my eyes, trying to push aside the panic and the dull ache of my body.

"Now what?"

{Picture the energy within you. Search for it. It will feel like a flame—or perhaps a pulse. Once you find it, it will reveal itself to you.}

I sighed. "Easier said than done. This body is almost broken, and I'm chained in a cage."

{Do you want me to walk you through the steps or complain with you?}

I blinked, stunned by the sarcasm. "Did Zurique program you with an attitude?"

{Did Zurique send me to a host with no plan? We all have questions. Now focus.}

I bit back a retort. Sarcastic or not, System had a point. I scanned my dim surroundings, a faint glimmer of determination sparking within me. If I was going to survive, I needed to be smart—and I needed to listen.

I furrowed my brows, concentrating. Slowly, warmth bloomed in the center of my chest, spreading out like ripples in a still pond. The sensation was unfamiliar yet comforting. As I focused harder, an image formed in the darkness behind my closed eyes: an orb, glowing with a soft, vibrant green light.

"I see it," I whispered.

{Good. That is your mana core. Its color and essence define your affinity—yours is Nature. You have the power to manipulate the nature.}

I felt a flicker of excitement, but before I could celebrate, I noticed something else—a second orb, slightly smaller, resting near the first. This one was a darker, more intense green.

"What's that?" I asked, a strange unease and curiosity mixing within me.

{Interesting. That is your second core. Not everyone has two. This one represents a secondary affinity: Psychic. The darker green shade you see is called 'Viridian.' It embodies the mind—telekinesis, mental manipulation, perception. Powerful but dangerous.}

"Dangerous?"

{If you don't control it, yes. Psychic energy can be volatile, especially for someone untrained. But it also makes you unique. Two cores mean twice the potential. Use it wisely.}

I opened my eyes, the image of the glowing orbs still vivid in my mind. My heart raced with newfound determination.