"Some people read fiction to escape. I guess I escaped by becoming one."
The air was cold. Not the refreshing kind—cold in that way old wood gets when it's been damp for too long.
He lay on a straw mat, body stiff, the faint smell of mold clinging to his nose.
No pillow. No blanket. Just the slow ache of a body that wasn't his.
He blinked at the sagging wooden ceiling. Cobwebs in the corners.
Dust dancing in the light that leaked through half-broken shutters.
"…Where am I?" His voice cracked, more croak than speech.
His throat burned. He hadn't spoken—or eaten—for days. At least, that's what it felt like.
He tried sitting up. Bones creaked in protest. A weak groan slipped out.
His own fingers caught his attention when they trembled in front of his eyes: pale, thin, veins like ink bleeding through rice paper.
"...Yeah, that's not my hand."
He looked down at the body. Ribs jutting out, stomach caved in, legs like sticks.
Frail. Half-dead. He didn't need a mirror to know the truth.
"This isn't me."
Silence. Just the hum of the wind squeezing through the cracks.
Alein leaned forward, wheezing, dragging himself upright with shaky arms.
Every movement hurt. Every breath burned.
"Okay… step one: figure out where I am. Step two: complain about it."
Right on cue, a chime echoed in his head.
[The Aether Codex: System Integration Successful]
[User: Alein – Profile: Reader & Author, now Reincarnator]
[Status: Weak Vessel | Potential: Dormant]
[Awakener: Inactive]
[Genesis Forge: Linked]
[Clone Slot: 1 Available]
He froze. Blinked. "…Wait. I actually have a system?"
For a long moment he just sat there, lips parting in disbelief. Then a short, dry laugh escaped.
"So… I get dumped into a collapsing shack with the body of a corpse, but hey—congratulations, I won the cheat-code lottery."
He coughed, doubled over, hand braced against the floor.
His throat ached, but a grin tugged at his lips.
"Fine. I'll take it. God-tier system, trash-tier body. Seems fair."
Shoving against the floorboards, he crawled to the window and pushed it open.
Light stabbed his eyes, forcing them to squint.
Outside, a quiet town stirred. Stone paths, crooked rooftops, wooden stalls creaking in the breeze.
Smoke from chimneys. People with baskets and sacks, beginning their day.
Normal life.
And him—an outsider, barely alive, clinging to the ruins of somebody else's body.
He leaned against the window frame, breathing shallow.
"So I'm in another world… systems, magic, the whole package. Still feels like reincarnating straight into a hospital bed."
Despite everything, something stirred in him. Not despair.
Not dread. Something sharper. Curiosity.
A new prompt shimmered before his eyes.
[Genesis Forge – Activation?]
Yes ・ No
His hand paused mid air. "…Genesis Forge. Create someone?"
Alein's mind flashed with the memory of countless nights writing characters that never lived outside the page.
He swallowed, then muttered:
"…Then let's make it count."
He chose [Yes].
The room flared with light. Symbols carved themselves into the air, shifting into circles that spun like gears.
[Set Identity]
He closed his eyes and Imagined.
His thoughts scattered. He whispered, almost without realizing:
"…Someone who once had peace, but lost it. Someone who tried to sleep beneath the stars and never woke."
The system flickered. Symbols shifted, listening.
He frowned, eyes unfocused.
"…No. Not just that. Someone who… knows pain.
The kind that settles in your bones. Someone who kept walking even when the road stopped making sense."
[Searching…]
"…Unmoving. Still. Not because he wanted to, but because stopping meant disappearing."
[Processing…]
"…Someone who endured. Even when there was no reason to. Someone who… couldn't let go."
The room hummed faintly.
Circuits spun in the air, as though his scattered words were being collected, sorted, reshaped.
"…Yeah," he murmured. "Someone like that."
[Identity Loading…]
[Name: Ashen]
[Memory: Fragmented – Sealed]
[Personality: Melancholic Calm Immortal]
[Title: Wandering Swordsman]
The light took shape.
A man stepped out—tall, lean, White hair falling around his face like pale fire. His eyes opened: one black, one gold.
Ashen.
He didn't look at Alein at first. His gaze went straight to the window, to the sunlight spilling across the floorboards.
His voice was quiet, detached.
"…The sun feels different."
The wind stirred his hair.
Alein stared, breath caught. His lips turned into a grin. "He looks… cooler than I imagined."
System text flickered again:
[Genesis Forge: Stable]
[Sync: 100%]
[Warning: Emotional Depth Limit Nearing Threshold]
[Note: Clone autonomy increasing rapidly]
Ashen finally turned his head. His gaze lingered on Alein—silent, unreadable—but there was something in it. Recognition, maybe. Or suspicion.
Alein exhaled, voice barely above a whisper. "…Go. Live as I couldn't."
Ashen didn't answer. He simply walked to the door. It creaked open. Sunlight spilled across the floor. Then he was gone.
Silence again. Only the wind remained.
Alein leaned back against the wall, exhausted, but lighter somehow. He laughed once under his breath.
"Guess… I don't need to be a hero. Maybe creating one's enough."
His eyes drifted shut. Light warmed his skin.
"Let's write something unforgettable. Even if I'm not the one living it."