Magnus
The whispers of night lingered at the edge of my dreams. The rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl greeted me as I woke in my crib. Moonlight and starlight spilled softly across the room, comforting me as I lay there, small and helpless.
It had only been a few hours since I'd escaped the twins' room, but I already wished I'd never found that book.
All it left me with was confusion and a gnawing sense of unease. I knew this world wasn't Earth—now, after reading the book, I was sure of it. Still, the fact that the book was written in Greek—a language no one here spoke—nagged at me. Could there be others like me in this world? Other reincarnators? If I could end up here, what's to say someone else couldn't? Of course, that was probably just wishful thinking. The book didn't even have an author's name for me to trace.
Setting that aside, the contents of the book were even more unsettling. In this world, there was more than one god. The greedy and ambitious gods ended up killing their mother, Gaia. A tragic end for the mother of this planet, that's for sure, but without their betrayal, humans would never have obtained mana. In some twisted way, humanity owed its power to the gods' selfishness. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Not because mana was born from death—no, what truly bothered me was how little it took here. One death, a god's death, and humans gained magic. In my old world, the price of power was so much higher. To awaken ki, it took the deaths of billions.
My eyes drifted to the stars above.
Back in my old life, about a thousand years before I was born, a Great War had erupted—World War III. It started as a minor conflict between nations, but quickly spiraled out of control. According to the textbooks, world wars weren't new; there had been two before, and the world had survived. But this time, humanity's technology had far surpassed its wisdom. Atomic bombs—meant to be deterrents—became weapons of desperation. When resources dwindled and tensions soared, even the wealthiest and most powerful countries grew restless. Historians speculated that this desperation was what pushed leaders over the edge.
In the end, without warning, every nation with atomic bombs launched them at once. The war ended in a single day, along with three-fourths of the world's population. The land itself was scarred beyond recognition. Those who survived faced a new hell—radiation made life nearly impossible, but not entirely. Humans are stubborn creatures. The survivors clung to life in a world that changed every year.
Radiation warped more than just people—it reshaped the very earth. Continents that had once been separated drifted together until all seven became one. But that was nothing compared to what came next. Maybe it was desperation, perhaps it was evolution, or perhaps it was both. The next generation of humans was born different.
They possessed something new inside them—a power called ki. It was a force that flowed through the body, letting people run faster, jump higher, and overpower anyone without it. The more ki you had, the stronger you were. Society quickly revolved around this new power. Some praised the leaders who unleashed the bombs, calling it a necessary step for human evolution. Of course, only those blessed with abundant ki said that. Those without it cursed the same leaders, though I suspected that, had they been stronger, they would have felt differently.
I shook my head, pushing away the memories. There was no point in dwelling on all that history now. Ki didn't exist here, or on Earth anymore, for that matter. Here, it was all about mana and magic. That was all I needed to focus on if I wanted to grow stronger.
Still, one question gnawed at me. If that book was truly the history of this world, why was it written in a different language? Maybe the author didn't want anyone to know the truth. Or perhaps it was just a copy—one of many, its origins lost.
With a groan, I forced myself to let it go. There was no use worrying about it until I was strong enough to stand alone—strong enough to leave this house, if I chose. But then what? After I learned to use mana and escaped, what would I do? I hadn't thought that far ahead. Maybe, in this life, I could live quietly, without ambition or purpose.
For now, that sounded good. But as I stared at the stars, I couldn't shake the feeling that fate had other plans.