Prologue

Darkness.

There was only silence, an unbroken void stretching across an eternity. A timeless emptiness that swallowed everything—his thoughts, his memories, his existence. He didn't know how long it lasted, but eventually, something began to stir in the silence. Flashes, brief and disjointed, flickered through his mind like fragments of a broken mirror.

His past life.

He saw himself—an adult, walking down a busy street, laughing with friends, feeling the warmth of the sun. It was a peaceful memory. He was happy. Wasn't he?

Then, without warning, everything changed. The world tilted, a scream of metal and glass filled his ears, and the sensation of falling gripped his stomach. He could feel the pain. The crushing weight of a car accident, the collision of steel, the sharp snap of bones, and the overwhelming flood of darkness that followed. His body was lifeless, his heart still.

But then... something else. 

another memories—began to flicker into his mind, as if forcing its way through the wreckage of his past. A young boy's life. He could see the boy—six years old, innocent eyes wide with wonder, holding the hand of a woman who smiled down at him lovingly. A man stood beside them, his strong hands resting on the boy's shoulders. They were a family.

This wasn't my life, he thought. But the memories kept coming, blending together until they were no longer separate. The boy's life became his life.

The boy was running. He was scared, his small legs carrying him through the woods. He could hear them—monsters—chasing him and his family. He could see their twisted forms, grotesque and terrifying, as they pursued them relentlessly. His parents, protective and strong, tried to shield him, but the creatures were too fast. The memories of the crash—his family's desperate efforts to escape—flashed by in a blur.

A loud crash shattered the scene. A violent collision. A sickening thud. The boy's mother and father lay in the wreckage, blood staining the seat, their bodies lifeless. And now, the boy—he—was alone, with the creatures closing in.

No...

The memory faded, and the darkness once again enveloped him.

But this time, something else began to stir. A voice—mechanical, artificial—spoke into his mind.

"System initializing... Soul acclimating."

The words echoed in his head, and for the first time, the weight of the situation began to settle. Something was wrong. He wasn't just seeing the boy's memories—he was the boy now.

"Error. Error. Body not suitable for host. Searching for alternative bodies."

The words rang out, filled with confusion, as if the system itself was struggling. The sensation of being torn between two realities, two bodies, grew stronger. The memories, the boy's life, continued to flood into him, and with each passing second, they became more and more vivid. The crash, the monsters, the boy's fear—it was all him now.

"Error. Host body found. Healing body to be suitable for host. Initializing rebirth..."

There was a sudden pull—his soul yanked from the darkness into the physical world. Pain coursed through him as his new body took shape, tiny hands, small legs. He could feel the sensations of the world flooding back into him. The scent of the forest, the cold night air. The body he now inhabited—the boy's body—was broken, wounded, yet still alive.

His chest heaved with a sharp breath, his eyes flying open to see the wreckage around him. The car crash had left everything in ruins, the twisted metal of the vehicle a testament to the destruction. His adoptive parents...

He blinked in disbelief.

They were dead.

Their lifeless bodies lay in the seat beside him, blood pooling beneath them. The sight of it made his heart ache, a familiar sorrow rising in his chest. The boy—he—was just a child, and his world had been shattered in an instant.

He reached out to them, his hands trembling as he tried to wake them, but their bodies were cold and unyielding. No matter how hard he shook them, there was no response.

"Mom? Dad? Wake up!" he cried out, his voice cracking. "Please... please, wake up..."

But it was futile. They were gone.

A pang of grief, a deep, gnawing emptiness, filled him. He wanted to scream, to rage against the unfairness of it all, but instead, he felt a cold numbness settle over him. He was alone.

The voice of the system broke through the haze of his thoughts.

"Host, the parents are deceased. Please proceed with caution."

The cold, clinical tone of the system was oddly comforting. He didn't have time to mourn. The monsters were still out there, hunting him.

"Monsters..." he muttered, his breath hitching in fear as the memory of the creatures filled his mind. He could hear them now, their growls and shrieks growing louder, drawing closer. His heart raced as panic began to flood him.

I need to get out of here, he thought, pushing himself out of the wreckage with difficulty, his small body trembling from the pain. He stumbled to the ground, his legs unsteady, but he forced himself to stand.

As he looked down at his hands, the reality of his situation hit him again. His hands were small, childish. He wasn't supposed to be this young. He had died as an adult. This body—this child's body—wasn't his, but it was all he had now.

He looked around, the unfamiliar forest surrounding him. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and leaves. Where am I?

"System, what's happening? Why am I here?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"Host, you are currently in an alternate reality. Rebirth has been initiated. You are now a demigod."

"Demigod?" The word sounded so strange, so foreign. He didn't know what it meant, but something about it tugged at him, as though it should be familiar. He didn't have time to think about it, though. The creatures were still close, and the growls were growing louder.

"Why are they chasing me?" he demanded, looking around nervously, his heart pounding in his chest.

The system responded matter-of-factly.

"Because you are a half-blood."

Half-blood? The term rang in his mind like an old echo, but he couldn't quite understand what it meant.

"What does that mean?" he asked, fear rising in his voice.

"You are a half-god, half-undistinguished," the system explained, its voice calm and steady.

The words made no sense. Half-god? He didn't understand. Was he supposed to be like the gods? Was he one of them?

"Half-god?" he repeated, confused. "What's an 'undistinguished'?"

"Please state 'Status.'"

He hesitated, unsure, but the situation's urgency pushed him to comply. "Status," he muttered, almost out of instinct.

Immediately, a screen appeared in his mind, displaying a wealth of information that only deepened his confusion.

Name: Kallias Dempsey 

Age: 5 

Race: Demigod {Sealed}

His breath caught in his throat as he read the screen. Demigod. That was him. Half-god. But the other half was sealed. Sealed by whom? Why? His heart raced as more questions filled his mind, but there was no time to ask them. The monsters were too close.

He scanned the rest of his status:

Strength: 5/100 

Speed: 10/100

Dexterity: 7/100 

Mana: 20/100 

Water Manipulation: Active (Weak) 

Water Healing: Passive

Water Manipulation. The thought was unfamiliar, but as the screen displayed his abilities, he realized that it was the only skill he had. His heart raced with fear and uncertainty, but there was also a glimmer of hope.

Water Healing. The ability to heal wounds while submerged in water. It was passive, always active, but weak. That could help him.

With no time to waste, he focused on the skill. He felt a tingle in his fingertips, a faint surge of energy as the water around him responded. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

"Okay..." he whispered to himself, trying to steady his breath. "I can use this..."

His thoughts were scattered, but one thing was clear: He had to survive. Whatever this world was, whatever he had become, the monsters weren't going to stop chasing him.

But he would keep running. He had no choice.

Kallias stumbled through the forest, his small body unaccustomed to a child's movements. His legs wobbled beneath him, and each step sent a sharp pain coursing through his muscles. He was injured, tired, and confused, but the growls of the monsters that hunted him drove him forward, pushing him to move despite the overwhelming exhaustion.

He didn't know where he was, or how he had ended up in this strange place, but he couldn't afford to stop. The memories of his adoptive parents, their bodies lying lifeless in the wreckage, flashed in his mind, adding to the weight of the fear that gripped him. What kind of world is this? He wondered. Why did it have to be me?

His thoughts were interrupted by the crackling of leaves behind him. He spun around, heart hammering in his chest. His pulse raced in his ears, and for a moment, he thought he could feel the ground beneath his feet tremble. The monsters were near.

He pushed himself harder, forcing his aching body to keep moving. The forest around him blurred as he ran, dodging trees and vines, doing everything he could to escape. He didn't know if he was fast enough, if he could outrun them. His body felt like it was failing him. His limbs were weak, his breathing shallow, but his mind was focused solely on survival.

As he ran, the words of the system echoed in his mind.

"You are a half-blood. Half-god, half-undistinguished. The monsters are drawn to your scent. You must escape."

Escape. The word repeated in his mind. But how? How was he supposed to escape when the creatures were closing in?

He needed a plan. He needed something to give him an edge. But what could a five-year-old—no, a demigod—do against monsters that could probably tear him apart?

He glanced at his status again, hoping for something—anything—that could help him.

Water Manipulation: Active (Weak)Water Healing: Passive

"System," he gasped, trying to focus on the voice in his mind, "take me to a water source. I need to heal faster. I have an idea."

"Understood, Host. Relocating to nearest suitable water source."

The world around him shifted, a strange sensation filling his body as the system responded. The next moment, he was moving, running toward the forest's edge where a small river flowed. The sound of rushing water filled his ears, and the moment his feet hit the bank, he waded into the cool, soothing depths. The water seemed to welcome him, flowing around his legs like a living thing, and almost immediately, he felt a rush of relief.

As he submerged himself deeper, he felt his injuries healing faster. His cuts and bruises were slowly fading, the pain subsiding, and his exhaustion seemed to lift with each passing moment. The water's cool touch was unlike anything he had felt before—like it was drawn to him, responding to his needs.

He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, letting the water do its work. But he knew the monsters were closing in. He could hear their growls, their footsteps crashing through the underbrush. Time was running out.

Kallias's mind raced. He needed to act before the creatures reached him. The feeling of strength grew within him, and he realized the water was changing him. He wasn't just healing—he was becoming more assertive. The longer he stayed in the water, the more power surged through him.

The growls grew louder, the monsters mere feet away. He opened his eyes and gritted his teeth. He had no more time to waste.

The moment he had been waiting for arrived. The creatures—two massive, snarling Hellhounds—burst through the trees, their fiery eyes locked onto him. They leaped toward him, jaws snapping, but Kallias was ready.

He reached out with both hands, the water flowing around him like a controlled extension of his will. It answered him, surging forward like a tidal wave. The powerful current grabbed the two Hellhounds, their massive bodies yanked into the water. Kallias forced his will upon the water, pulling it with all his strength as the beasts struggled against it.

The water twisted and coiled around them, dragging them under with terrifying force. He could feel his muscles straining, the effort draining him, but he refused to let go. The monsters fought against the current, but their strength was no match for the water he now controlled.

His vision blurred with the effort, his muscles screaming in protest as he pulled harder. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Hellhounds went still. Their struggles ceased, and the water had done its work—dragging them down into the depths and holding them there until they were drowned.

Exhausted but victorious, Kallias staggered back to the riverbank, his legs trembling as he collapsed onto the soft earth. The water around him continued to swirl and churn, as if still responding to the intense battle he had just endured. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale a struggle as his body recovered from the exertion.

He let the cool water wash over him, the gentle flow soothing his battered muscles and numbing the pain that still clung to him. The rush of relief was almost overwhelming as the water healed him, easing the worst of his injuries.

He had done it. He had defeated the monsters.

[You have killed Level 47 Hellhound][You gained 300 XP] x2[Level Up! You are now Level 5][You gained 50 Mana]

[New Skill Unlocked: Water Manipulation - Wave Crash (Active)] 

Kallias closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath as the notifications flashed in his mind. The mana surge flooded him, and he felt stronger, more powerful. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.

Kallias collapsed onto the riverbank, his chest heaving with every breath, his hands trembling as they dug into the soft earth. The water around him slowly receded, but the surge of power that had coursed through him moments ago still lingered, a hum of energy under his skin. His sea-blue-green eyes flickered to his reflection in the water, and for the first time, he truly saw himself.

A five-year-old boy, with blonde hair that shimmered like gold in the sunlight, pale skin, and those unmistakable eyes. The same eyes he had seen in countless stories, the ones described in books about demigods—Percy Jackson, heroes born of gods and mortals. It struck him like a tidal wave, and suddenly, everything made sense. The monsters hunting him, the power that flowed from him, the water that obeyed his every command—it all clicked.

He was a child of Poseidon.

His heart raced, and for a moment, he simply stared at his reflection, the disbelief threatening to overwhelm him. How could he have not realized it sooner? The water, healing him and responding to his will; the monsters chasing him—his bloodline had been the key all along. The unmistakable sea-blue-green eyes were the final confirmation.

"Congratulations, Host," the system's voice echoed in his mind, calm and composed. "You have successfully identified your divine parent. This achievement has earned you an additional reward."

Kallias blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You have solved the parentage puzzle, Host. As a reward, the system will present you with a gift." There was a flicker of light before him, and a small object materialized in mid-air.

A shimmering amulet appeared, glowing softly in the dim light. It pulsed with a faint but undeniable power. Kallias reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against the cool surface of the amulet. The moment he touched it, he felt a surge of energy ripple through him, the amulet binding itself to him.

"Amulet of the Sea's Blessing (Legendary)," the system announced. "This amulet enhances your water-based abilities, increasing your control and potency over water. It will also amplify your healing rate when submerged in water. It is yours to command, Host." 

"System," Kallias said, his voice steady, "is there any way to disguise my scent? I can't keep having monsters track me down like this."

"There is a method, Host. Using the remains of the defeated Hellhounds, you can mask your scent for some time. This will reduce the likelihood of attracting more monsters."

Kallias thought for a moment, then nodded. It wasn't much, but it was something. If he could disguise his scent, he might have a chance to rest and regroup. He needed time to think, to figure out how to control his abilities, how to learn more about the world he had been thrust into.

With a sigh, he began dragging the Hellhounds' bodies out of the water and onto the shore. He didn't know how long the scent masking would last, but it was a start.

As the bodies of the monsters were dragged into the underbrush, Kallias felt a flicker of hope. He had survived this far. Maybe, just maybe, he could survive long enough to learn what kind of life he was meant to live.

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Kallias wiped the sweat from his brow, his body aching from the recent battle. As he dragged the last of the Hellhounds into the underbrush, the weight of the task ahead began to settle in. He wasn't just fighting monsters anymore—he was fighting to understand himself, to find a way to survive in a world that seemed determined to destroy him.

The bodies of the Hellhounds lay still, their massive forms now nothing more than carcasses. The scent-masking method might buy him time, but it wouldn't protect him forever. The monsters would return—he knew that much for certain. And when they did, he needed to be prepared.

"System," Kallias called out, his voice hoarse from exhaustion. "Is there a more permanent way to mask my scent? I can't keep running from monsters every time I get close to something."

"The scent of a demigod, Host, is unmistakable to monsters," the system replied, its voice unwavering. "To disguise it completely, you will need to cover yourself with the blood of the defeated Hellhounds. This will not only mask your scent but will also deter other monsters from approaching. The effect will last for a period of time."

Kallias blinked, considering the system's suggestion. It was far from ideal, but it was better than being constantly hunted. With a grimace, he looked over at the Hellhounds' bodies. The blood that pooled around them was a strange, purple hue, unlike anything he had seen before. It smelled faintly of sulfur, with underlying scents that were foreign to him—sharp, metallic, and unsettling.

"Right," he muttered to himself. "Guess I don't have a choice."

Kallias found a jagged rock nearby and, with a deep breath, began the uncomfortable process of scraping it across the Hellhounds' bodies to collect the blood. The thick, viscous liquid stained the rock as he worked, the stench filling the air. He had never been one to shy away from messy work, but this felt different—unnatural, even. The purple blood shimmered in the fading light, glistening like some twisted form of ink.

Once he had gathered enough, he dipped his hands into the blood and began smearing it over his skin. He coated his arms, his chest, his face—every inch of exposed skin. The texture was thick, and the pungent odor lingered, but he pushed through it, focusing only on the task at hand. When he was done, he looked like something out of a nightmare—his pale skin now hidden beneath a layer of dark purple blood.

"Your scent is now covered, Host," the system informed him, its tone as neutral as always. "However, as you now know your divine parentage, your scent is stronger. While the blood will mask it temporarily, the strength of your godly lineage will always leave a trace. Be cautious."

Kallias stared at his reflection in the river's surface, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked different—darker, more dangerous. But at least now, he had a chance. He wouldn't be an easy target, at least not for a little while.

"Thanks, I guess," he muttered, wiping his hands on the grass to remove the excess blood. He took a few deep breaths, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that clung to him like the stench of the Hellhounds' blood.

As the night stretched on, Kallias found himself growing more and more exhausted. His body ached from the battle, his mind still reeling from the events that had unfolded. He knew he couldn't keep moving forever. He needed rest. He needed time to process everything and figure out his next move.

Reluctantly, he lay down on the soft grass by the river, his eyes heavy with fatigue. The water lapped gently at the shore, a soothing sound that seemed to echo in the quiet night. Despite everything that had happened, Kallias felt himself drifting toward sleep. His thoughts slowed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to relax. 

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