Recall: Memories From a Dead Timeline

The moment he returned to his room, Ashen locked the door, changed into something more comfortable, and dropped onto the sofa. 

He mentally summoned his system window with a deep breath, eager to dissect every detail.

The first area provided his name, followed by the date of arrival.

The arrival date likely referred to when he first arrived in Seravelle. If that were the case, then his entire batch probably had the same date.

He didn't see any real use for it aside from reminding him how long he'd been stuck in this strange land, so he set it aside.

The next section contained his details. Nothing interesting there. He skimmed over it until he reached the Path section.

From class lessons, he had a rough idea of how it worked. Clicking on "Select" would redirect him to a screen where he could choose a concept for the system to help him master.

Something to revisit later.

Next up: Affiliation.

"...Atlas Defense?" He racked his brain, trying to recall where he'd heard that name before.

Then it clicked.

"Ah."

A dry chuckle escaped him. "Isn't this the company Lucia claimed to work for? Guess it makes sense that I'm affiliated with them now."

The (Temp) tag next to it likely meant his contract was temporary.

Titles: None. Pass.

Then, he reached his Traits.

He visibly winced.

"Brilliantly Restless?"

'Brilliant, sure. But did they really have to slap restless on there?'

As he strolled down memory lane, countless unfinished hobbies, games, sports, and most damning of all, career paths flashed through his mind.

His expression darkened.

"Alright, alright, you got me there, system. Next…"

Strategically Idle.

"...What's this now?"

Ashen prided himself on his ability to work himself to the bone. How the hell did that translate to idle? And did being lazy require strategy?

He scoffed internally. What a load of crap.

But then, as he read the description,

Scenes played in his mind… throwing responsibilities onto Alice whenever something inconvenient popped up… Every bill for the past few months before their breakup? Paid by her.

Now that he thought about it, wasn't he basically a househusband?

A househusband who didn't even do house chores.

"...What do you even call that?" A dry chuckle left him, but there was no humor in it.

Even when Alice wasn't around, he had his family to fall back on. Always someone to pick up after him.

Wow.

He really was a piece of shit, wasn't he?

Strategically idle? More like a waste of space.

"Whatever…" He shoved the thought aside and moved on.

Loved by Time.

Finally. Something decent.

From its name, it sounded like a positive trait.

Reading the description, however, left him unsure how to feel.

At its core, it seemed to act as a booster for his ability to comprehend time-related concepts.

Given how much professors raved about the sheer brokenness of concepts, this was probably priceless. And considering it was related to time—one of the most enigmatic forces—it was likely even more valuable than he realized.

But then, something caught his eye.

"As a side effect of prolonged contact with a godly organ…"

His lips twitched.

"…The fuck do you mean godly organ?"

Were gods real now? And even if they were, what the hell did that have to do with him?

"Man, I'd rather you keep roasting me than throw this incomprehensible shit at me!"

He groaned, running a hand down his face. His brain was already juggling a hundred different theories.

Deep breath.

Huff.

"Alright. This 'godly organ' is probably my eyes. There's nothing else it could be."

As for why they were considered godly… He'd shelve that mystery for now.

Scrolling further down, he reached his Physical Level.

Each attribute was graded alphabetically, and from what he remembered, the ranking went from F- to A+. Beyond that, another classification was used, but that wasn't relevant for now.

Strength: F | Endurance: F | Agility: F 

Perception: E | Stamina: F | Mana: F-

A string of Fs stared back at him.

He wasn't even discouraged. From what he knew, F represented the peak of human potential—the highest an Esperrian could reach without mana.

Getting there in just three months? Not bad.

The F- in mana still stung, though.

As for Perception, he assumed he was naturally talented in that area. After all, Perception was considered the hardest attribute to raise. Training one's senses to a higher level was notoriously difficult.

A small win, at least.

For now, he kept scrolling.

Next up—Innate powers.

"Weaver's Eyes." Finally, he knew his blasted eyes' real name.

The fancy description was full of grandiose terms, but Ashen, now completely numb to the word godly being thrown around like confetti, managed to extract three key points.

First, despite his eyes' ability to see a few seconds into the future, the Weaver's Eyes were considered dormant.

Which meant that this absurd ability wasn't even their true power.

That realization alone was enough to make his brain short-circuit. If this was just the dormant state, what kind of broken nonsense would they be capable of when fully awakened?

Not that it mattered.

Because, secondly, these eyes didn't even consider him worthy.

Rolling his eyes, he grumbled, "Great. Even my own damn eyes think I'm unworthy."

'Well, I didn't ask you to latch onto me anyway…'

His voice was laced with bitterness, but his frustration peaked at the third point.

"These eyes weren't even mine to begin with. They belonged to this 'Weaver' guy or whatever his name is."

A strange sense of dissonance settled in.

He'd never been able to control them… never been able to stop them from showing him glimpses of the future, no matter what he tried. Now it all made sense.

How could they obey him?

They weren't his to command in the first place.

Suppressing his unease, Ashen moved on to the next section, eager to distract himself from that particular existential crisis.

Under Other Abilities, his spear techniques, along with his mana skills, were listed. Each had a descriptor in brackets, indicating mastery level.

"Entry-" was the lowest rank, followed by "Entry" and then "Entry+". After that, there was a jump to "Basic".

If he recalled correctly, "Skilled" came next, but that was still a distant dream. Not relevant.

What was relevant was a skill named Recall.

He had no idea what it did. Or how he even got it.

'Not the first time this has happened…'

Bitterly sighing, he clicked on the ability.

A description popped up.

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Recall

This ability is the manifestation of the host's memories from another ruined timeline.

Made accessible by Miratheris, the soul of the planet, who was deeply moved by the host's alternate self's indomitable will and granted it as a gift for protecting her until the very end.

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"...What?"