Chapter 2: Wait… This Isn't My Body?!

Breaking Fate

Pain.

At first, a dull, distant ache, like an echo from a body that had long since given up. Then, all at once, a sharp jolt shot through my skull, like I had been the unfortunate recipient of a knight's morning drills—specifically, the part where they used a training dummy for sword practice. My head throbbed in protest, and my limbs felt oddly stiff, as if I hadn't moved in days.

And yet… something was off.

For someone who had spent years confined to a hospital bed, I knew weakness intimately. The heaviness in my limbs, the frailty in my fingers, the ever-present exhaustion pulling me down like gravity itself—I had lived with it for so long that it had become a part of me. But now? My hands didn't shake. My legs didn't feel like they would crumble under my own weight. I felt stronger.

This isn't right.

I forced my heavy eyelids open, expecting to see the familiar, oppressive white ceiling of my hospital room—the same ceiling I had stared at every waking moment, waiting for the inevitable.

Instead, I was greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar world.

A grand room, illuminated by the soft glow of flickering candlelight. Dark wooden furniture filled the space, each piece carved with intricate patterns of roses and thorns. A towering bookshelf stretched across one wall, lined with aged tomes and gilded spines—books that definitely weren't medical journals. An ornate chandelier hung above, its crystals reflecting fragments of golden light across the deep crimson carpet below.

This was not a hospital.

This was not my world.

I sat up, the sudden movement feeling too natural, too effortless for a body that had once been too weak to even lift a glass of water without trembling. My breath came shallow and fast as I stared down at my hands.

These weren't my hands.

Gone were the frail, pale fingers marred with IV scars. Instead, they were smooth, unblemished, and—elegant. My heart pounded against my ribs as I flexed them, feeling a strength that had never been mine before.

Panic clawed at my throat, but I forced myself to think. Stay calm. Assess the situation.

My gaze darted around the room until I spotted it—a large, full-body mirror standing against the far wall. A strange, creeping dread slithered down my spine as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood.

My steps were steady. Too steady.

Each movement felt foreign, yet frighteningly familiar, as though my body knew something I didn't. My heart thundered as I finally reached the mirror, every instinct screaming at me to turn back.

But I couldn't.

I had to know.

And then I saw him.

No.

I saw me.

Jet-black hair, tousled but effortlessly styled. Eyes as dark as the abyss, gleaming under the dim candlelight. A sharp, well-defined jawline, high cheekbones, and skin so flawless it looked like it had been sculpted by an artist's hand. My attire was just as foreign—black and silver, embroidered with intricate patterns of a noble house I didn't recognize.

I looked like someone straight out of a fantasy novel.

Wait.

Fantasy novel.

The pieces slammed into place, and my breath hitched.

My last memory—playing Mana's Ascension. The game that had been my escape, my sanctuary, my second life during those endless hospital days. I had lived in that world, memorized its lore, explored its every secret. I had devoured every detail, from legendary artifacts to obscure Easter eggs.

And now…

I looked exactly like a character from that game.

This has to be a dream. A coma hallucination. Some kind of afterlife bonus package.

Before I could make sense of anything, white-hot agony exploded in my skull. I staggered back, gripping my head as a flood of memories—not mine, but mine—poured into me, drowning out everything else.

A name surfaced through the chaos.

Alden Blackwood.

A disgraced noble.

The second son of the powerful Blackwood family—disowned, cast aside, forgotten. Labeled as talentless in a world where mana dictated worth. A disposable background character, meant to serve as little more than a stepping stone for the protagonist during the Academy's introductory duels.

And like any good disposable extra…

He was supposed to die.

The pain gradually subsided, leaving behind a chilling silence. My breath came ragged as I processed what I had just seen—what I now knew.

I was no longer Ethan.

I was Alden Blackwood.

And I was doomed.

A humorless laugh escaped me. "Great. So I reincarnated… as a nobody who's about to be erased from the plot. Fantastic."

The irony of it all wasn't lost on me.

After years of playing Mana's Ascension, after obsessing over its lore, its battle mechanics, its world-building—after dreaming of being a part of that world—I finally got my wish.

But not as the hero.

Not even as a major villain.

No, I got stuck in the role of a dead man walking.

Still… I had something Alden never did.

Knowledge.

I knew this world inside and out. I knew its events, its hidden quests, its secret pathways to power. And if I played my cards right, I might just have a chance.

"System."

The word left my lips instinctively, and a translucent blue screen blinked into existence before me.

---

[System Interface]

Name: Alden Blackwood

Race: Human

Class: None (Unawakened)

Rank: F-

Mana Capacity: F-

Skills: None

[System Functions: Status | Skills | Traits]

---

I stared at the screen.

"…Wow. I suck."

No class. No skills. F- rank. Even in a fantasy world, my luck was garbage.

At this point, I had two options:

1. Follow the original script and die a tragic, forgettable death.

2. Break the game.

The choice was obvious.

I had seven days before the Academy's entrance ceremony. Seven days before I was thrown into the same storyline that would inevitably end with my death. In the original story, Alden was humiliated in a mock battle, setting the stage for his downward spiral. Shortly after, he got tangled in an unfortunate encounter that sealed his fate.

Yeah, that wasn't happening.

I needed power. Fast.

And I knew exactly where to get it.

A secret event. A hidden trait so absurdly broken that it had once shattered the game's balance.

An Easter egg so obscure, only the most obsessive players had ever found it.

And lucky for me… I had been one of them.

I exhaled sharply, my grip tightening into a fist.

"Alright," I murmured, eyes blazing with newfound determination.

"Time to rewrite this story."