Chapter 1: The End Before the Beginning

Pain.

That was the last thing he remembered. A sharp, searing agony that burned through his chest, radiating outward like wildfire. He could feel the warmth of his own blood spreading beneath him, soaking into the cold marble floor.

His breath came in shallow gasps, his vision blurring at the edges. The world around him was fading, growing distant. But even as his body weakened, his mind remained sharp, racing through every decision, every miscalculation that had led to this moment.

'So this is how it ends.'

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips, though it was barely more than a ragged exhale.

He had always known that death would come for him sooner or later. In a world where power dictated everything, survival was nothing more than a temporary victory. No matter how strong, how intelligent, how prepared one was, there was always someone lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

And yet… he never expected it to be him.

The one standing over him now, staring down with cold, impassive eyes.

A trusted ally. A brother-in-arms. Someone he had bled with, fought with, built everything alongside.

And now, the very person who had driven a dagger straight through his heart.

A Life of Struggle

He was not born into privilege.

Unlike those who inherited wealth, power, and status, he had nothing.

His earliest memories were of hunger, of cold nights spent beneath the flickering glow of streetlights. He had no family, no home, no safety net to catch him when he fell. The only law he knew was survival—either he clawed his way to the top, or he was trampled underfoot like the countless others before him.

But he refused to be nothing.

He studied, he fought, he adapted. He sharpened his mind and body like a blade, turning himself into a weapon against the world that sought to break him.

His rise to power was not easy. He had made enemies, lost people along the way, faced betrayals and setbacks that would have crushed a weaker man.

But he endured.

Through blood, sweat, and sheer will, he carved a place for himself among the elites of society. He built an empire, gathered allies, and cemented his name as someone untouchable.

Or so he thought.

In the end, it wasn't his enemies who brought him down—it was the one person he trusted the most.

The Fall

He could feel his strength slipping away.

His limbs were growing numb, his heartbeat slowing.

'Damn it… my body… isn't responding…'

He tried to move, to reach for his weapon, to fight, but the pain was too great. His body refused to obey him.

Above him, his betrayer knelt down, gripping the hilt of the dagger still buried in his chest.

"You should've seen this coming," his voice was calm, almost regretful. "You always thought you were untouchable. But you let your guard down, and now… it's over."

His grip tightened. With a slow, deliberate motion, he twisted the blade.

A fresh wave of agony tore through him, but he refused to scream.

He wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Instead, he forced his lips into a smirk, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You're making a mistake…"

The man raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"

He coughed, blood staining his lips, but his gaze remained sharp. "You think killing me will change anything? You think you'll take my place? Control what I built?"

His betrayer said nothing.

But he could see it now—the flicker of hesitation.

A hollow laugh escaped him. "You don't understand… The world doesn't care about you. The moment I fall, they'll come for you next."

Silence.

A muscle twitched in the man's jaw. For the first time, there was doubt in his expression.

But it didn't matter anymore.

His vision was darkening. His body was shutting down.

'So this is it.'

His thoughts grew sluggish. His heartbeat slowed.

And then, everything went black.

Darkness.

A void so deep and endless, it felt as if he was floating in nothingness.

Was this what death felt like?

There was no pain. No sound. No sensation at all. Just an empty abyss stretching in every direction.

But then… something changed.

A flicker of warmth. A distant echo of a heartbeat—his heartbeat.

Then, a single breath.

The void trembled.

And just like that, he was pulled back into existence.

A New Beginning

Aether's eyes shot open, his lungs dragging in a sharp, desperate gasp of air.

His body jerked violently as if he had been drowning and finally broken through the surface. His skin was damp with sweat, his muscles trembling from the sudden shock of awakening.

He tried to move, but his limbs felt weak, uncoordinated.

What… what was happening?

Everything felt wrong.

His senses were sharper, yet his body felt fragile. His mind was intact, yet the world around him was different.

He forced himself to take slow, measured breaths, his instincts kicking in. Assess. Observe. Adapt.

The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't alone.

He could hear voices—faint but distinct. A woman's voice, soft and warm. A man's, deeper, filled with pride.

Slowly, his vision adjusted to the dim glow of candlelight flickering against wooden walls.

A room.

A bed.

And then… a realization struck him like lightning.

His body—it was small.

His arms, his legs—tiny, weak. His hands trembled as he tried to move them, his fingers barely responding.

His breath caught in his throat.

This wasn't his body.

At least… not the one he remembered.

Panic surged through him, but before he could react, warmth enveloped him.

A gentle touch. A pair of hands lifting him, holding him close.

"You're awake, my little star," a soft voice murmured.

His head was turned slightly, allowing him to see the woman cradling him.

She was… beautiful.

Long, silver-blue hair cascaded over her shoulders, her golden eyes glowing like embers in the dim light. There was warmth in her gaze—an unfamiliar kind of affection.

Aether barely had time to process this before a second presence joined them.

A man—tall and strong, with sharp features and deep blue hair. His golden eyes were the same as the woman's, filled with something Aether had rarely seen before—pride.

"He's strong," the man said, his voice deep and confident. "He didn't even cry."

The woman laughed softly, pressing a kiss to Aether's forehead. "He's perfect."

Aether felt his breath hitch.

What… was happening?

These people… they were his parents?

He had been reborn?

His mind reeled, struggling to grasp the impossible reality before him.

He wasn't just in another body.

He was in another world.

And he was no longer the man he once was.

He was Aether Zephirion now.

Memories of the Past, Eyes on the Future

For the next few days, Aether did nothing but observe.

His newborn body was weak, limiting what he could do physically, but his mind was sharper than ever. He quickly realized that this world was nothing like his old one.

The air felt… different. Rich with an energy he couldn't quite describe. The people spoke a language unfamiliar to him, yet somehow, he understood it.

And his new family…

They weren't just ordinary people.

From the way they carried themselves, the way they spoke—there was nobility in their presence. Power.

His father, Cassian Zephirion, was a commanding figure, his every movement exuding authority. His mother, Selene Zephirion, was equally formidable, though she carried herself with a grace that softened her strength.

Aether listened carefully to their conversations, picking up bits and pieces about the kingdom they lived in, the noble house they belonged to, and the power that ruled this world.

It didn't take him long to confirm one crucial truth.

This world had magic.

And if he was going to survive—no, if he was going to thrive—he needed to understand it.

Even as a child, he wouldn't waste a single moment.

A Resolve Unlike Any Other

Aether had already died once.

Betrayed. Cut down before he could reach his full potential.

This time, he wouldn't let that happen.

This life… this world…

He would rise.

He would grow.

And this time, no one—no one—would stand in his way.