Pilot

A cold wind howled through the empty streets as snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, settling onto an uncovered, snow-laden bus stop. 

A teenage boy stood beneath the dim glow of a flickering streetlight, his long brown hair dusted with white snowflakes.

His glowing blue eyes were locked onto his phone screen, fingers tapping frantically.

His brows furrowed, teeth clenched. His frustration was palpable.

'Is this serious? This is how it ends? You can't be for real!'

Snowflakes melted against his screen, forcing him to wipe it repeatedly as he scrolled through the final chapter of his favorite web novel—the one he had loyally followed for years, practically alone.

No one else even bothered reading the latest updates anymore. But now, the final battle had arrived.

And it was garbage.

Every side character had been killed off. The protagonist—despite years of struggle, power-ups, and near-death experiences—had failed to save his world. His greatest enemy, the Abyss King, had won.

'I get that bad endings exist, but this? This is just terrible writing.'

His grip on the phone tightened. A single vein throbbed on his forehead as he reached the author's note at the bottom of the page.

Author's Note:

Hope you enjoyed the final battle, DarkBlade420. I put my heart into crafting an ending that truly fits the story. Thanks for your support over the years.

-Your dear Author, Flimsy

His fingers twitched. His blood boiled.

'An ending that fits the story? Are you fucking kidding me?!'

Anger surged through him, his breath uneven as he furiously typed a response.

Message Sent.

The wind howled louder, rattling the thin bus stop sign. Snow swirled around him, but he barely noticed. He was waiting—waiting for the author to respond.

Then, his phone chimed.

A message popped up instantly, glowing on the screen.

[Dear Jason,

Do you think you could do better than the protagonist? :)]

His heart skipped a beat.

'What…? How does he know my name?!'

His fingers hesitated before replying.

Yes.

Of course, he could do better. Anyone could.

He scoffed, shaking his head. "What kind of question is that?"

Another beep.

[Then let's see if you can.]

"What—?"

Before he could finish his thought, his phone flared to life, glowing with an unnatural, blinding white light.

A pulse of energy shot through his hand.

Pain. Pressure. His body tensed.

"Wait—what the hell?!"

The world blurred. His vision twisted, folding in on itself.

"HELP—"

His scream was swallowed by the storm. The light expanded, engulfing him whole.

A second later, his phone shattered onto the icy pavement, its fragments scattering across the snow. Within seconds, fresh snowfall covered the remains—

As if he had never been there at all.

Darkness.

Endless, suffocating darkness.

Jason's mind floated in an abyss, detached from his body. He couldn't see. He couldn't feel. It was like he had been erased from existence.

Then, suddenly—

Light.

Blinding, searing light exploded into his vision, forcing his eyes open.

His breath hitched as he jolted upright in bed.

"H-holy shit—where am I?"

His voice came out weak, unsteady. His body felt… wrong. Too light. Too unfamiliar.

Before he could fully process it, a flood of memories surged through his mind.

Not his own.

Flashes of a life he had never lived.

'What… is this? These aren't my memories!'

Then, like a cruel joke, a single phrase resurfaced—clearer than everything else.

[Then let's see if you can.]

Jason gritted his teeth, shaking off the dizziness. He needed to move—now.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed—only for his feet to tangle beneath him.

THUD.

"Goddamn it."

A long, frustrated sigh left his lips as he pushed himself up. His movements were sluggish, wrong. His limbs were too light. His balance was off.

This wasn't his body.

Finally managing to stand, he scanned the room.

A massive four-poster bed with silk sheets.

Elegant wooden bookshelves stacked with thick tomes. A polished oak wardrobe. Velvet curtains were drawn over a tall window.

This was no ordinary bedroom.

His gaze darted to the desk in the corner. A mirror.

His pulse quickened. He needed to see.

Stumbling forward, he reached for it—his hand hesitating just before touching the glass.

He took a deep breath.

Then, finally—he looked.

Golden eyes, gleaming like stars against a midnight sky.

Long, jet-black hair tied into a loose ponytail.

A face far too refined, too beautiful to be his own.

"…Shit, Whose face is this? Did I reincarnate as a nobody?"

A chime echoed in the air.

A golden screen flickered into existence before his eyes.

Jason froze.

'No way…'

[ Welcome, Host. ]

His breath hitched.

"A… system?"

Hesitantly, he lifted a hand, reaching out—only for his fingers to pass right through.

Then, words formed on the screen.

[ Status Window ]

• Name: Merlin Everhart

• Age: 14

• Class: Ascendant

• Type: Mage, Swordsman

• Affinities: Space

• Talent: (12 Stars)

[ Attributes ]

• Strength: ★

• Agility: ★

• Vitality: ★

• Endurance: ★

• Intelligence: ★

Jason's thoughts ground to a halt.

'Twelve-star talent?'

His heartbeat pounded in his ears. In The Hero's Path, only one person had ever been born with a 12-star talent rating.

The protagonist.

But he wasn't the protagonist.

'Who the fuck is Merlin Everhart?!'

Jason—no, Merlin—exhaled sharply.

Laughter bubbled from his lips, sudden and unrestrained—until the shrill chime of an alarm shattered his thoughts.

'School…'

His eyes flicked to the screen. The name of the alarm confirmed his suspicions.

'Star Power Academy…first day.'

A heavy sigh escaped him as he ran a hand down his face, fingers pressing into his temple.

'Just what I needed… I should hurry before they kill me for being late on the first day.'

At fourteen years old, Merlin knew this had to be his first year. 

Today was supposed to be the start of the best chapter of his life.

Or the worst.

Shaking off his hesitation, he tore open the wardrobe, rifling through its contents until his fingers brushed against the academy uniform.

A sleek black-and-white suit hung neatly inside, adorned with a bold number one badge—the unmistakable mark of a first-year student.

'Just as I thought.'

Wasting no time, he dressed himself in his unfamiliar body, the motions feeling foreign yet strangely fluid. With his bag slung over one shoulder, he strode out of the room.

The sight that greeted him confirmed another realization.

'So… I'm quite wealthy'

The living room was modern yet minimalistic. A black leather couch sat in front of a massive flat-screen TV, the soft hum of a ceiling fan breaking the silence.

He barely spared it a glance.

'No time to explore. I need to leave—now.'

Darting out the door, he rushed into the hallway, quickly making his way to the elevator. The moment the doors closed, he jabbed the button for the ground floor.

Then another problem hit him.

'Wait… where even am I?'

The moment he stepped outside, the city's vastness swallowed him whole. Towering skyscrapers stretched toward the heavens, their futuristic designs gleaming under the morning light.

Advanced rail systems whizzed past, sleek and nearly soundless, while pedestrians in high-tech attire moved with purposeful urgency.

He exhaled sharply.

'Fantastic. Can this day get any better?'

He raised a hand, attempting to hail a cab. The first one ignored him. So did the second. By the twentieth attempt, he was ready to throw something—until, finally, a taxi pulled over.

The driver, an older man with graying hair, rolled down the window.

"Good morning, sir. Where to—"

"Star Power Academy! And step on it!"

Merlin barked, eyes glued to his phone as he checked the time. The driver blinked, then shrugged before slamming his foot on the accelerator.

The ride was a blur.

Merlin's gaze darted from one marvel to the next. Towering buildings lined the streets, their designs far beyond what he remembered from his previous world. Glass walkways suspended midair, holographic billboards flickered with vibrant advertisements, and the sheer scale of technology left him reeling.

It was mesmerizing.

A sharp throat clearing snapped him back to reality.

"Khm. We're here, sir. That'll be fifteen lonar."

Merlin stiffened.

'Shit..Lonar… that's the currency, right?'

Keeping his face impassive, he quickly rummaged through his bag. The driver raised a skeptical eyebrow as Merlin's search grew increasingly desperate—until, by some miracle, his fingers closed around a wallet.

'Please, please, please…'

Muttering a silent prayer, he flipped it open.

His breath hitched.

Stacks of lonar bills stared back at him.

For a moment, he thought he might be dreaming.

Recovering quickly, he pulled out a twenty-lonar bill and shoved it into the driver's hand.

"Keep the change."

Before the man could protest, Merlin bolted from the taxi.

The academy gates loomed ahead, grand and imposing. He sprinted toward them—only to be brought to an abrupt halt.

Two security guards blocked his path, their scanners sweeping over his uniform. A soft beep echoed as the device registered his first-year badge and identification number.

One of them glanced at the screen before nodding.

"Merlin Everhart?"

"Yeah."

His response came instinctively, not a shred of hesitation in his voice.

The guard stepped aside.

"You're clear. Move along."

Wasting no time, Merlin broke into a run.

The school loomed before him, its towering structure both awe-inspiring and ominous.

And so began the first day of his suffering.