Darkness.
That was the first thing Vaughe Crimson remembered. A cold void, weightless and endless. He couldn't recall the exact moment it started. There was only the sound of the wind howling past his ears, the blur of flashing lights beneath him, and the final, haunting memory of Caelia's bloodied body collapsing in his arms.
Then—nothing.
Until now.
His eyelids fluttered open slowly, assaulted by sterile white light. The sharp scent of antiseptic filled his nostrils. A mechanical hum droned in the background—too smooth, too consistent to be anything from Earth.
He blinked.
The ceiling above him was made of a strange alloy—metallic, but transparent in places. Lines of blue energy pulsed faintly through the panels. The bed he was lying on adjusted automatically to his body, reacting to his slightest shift. When he tried to sit up, the room gently responded, lifting him at an angle with a quiet hydraulic sigh.
Vaughe's breath caught in his throat.
Where the hell am I?
He looked down at his body. Still the same height—six feet tall. His arms, lean and muscular, still bore the old scars of past fights. He flexed his fingers. Nothing felt... wrong. But nothing felt familiar either.
He turned his head. Monitors blinked quietly beside him, displaying strange holographic readouts he couldn't read. The architecture was alien. Advanced. Not Earth-tech, yet human enough to make him wonder.
He swung his legs over the bed.
The floor was unnervingly warm.
As he stood, a dull throb pulsed behind his eyes. A flood of disjointed memories came crashing in—
A rooftop. The laughter of cruel voices. The feeling of helplessness. Tears. Then a fall. A leap of desperation.
His head snapped up.
"That wasn't me," he whispered.
The memories weren't his. Not completely.
But they were Vaughe Crimson's.
Just not his version.
---
The infirmary door hissed open as he approached. Outside was a corridor of smooth obsidian walls, trimmed with glowing veins of blue. Lights adjusted to his presence, illuminating the hallway as he walked.
"This place... it's not Earth," he muttered. "Or if it is, it's not my Earth."
He moved with caution, footsteps echoing faintly. His instincts were sharp, honed from a life of hardship and survival—but nothing in his previous life had prepared him for this.
Then he heard voices.
"Did you hear? The loser from Class Zero tried to off himself again."
"Tch. Pathetic. Still talentless after the Awakening Ceremony. Just a waste of space."
Vaughe froze, body tensing.
The voices were around the corner. He pressed against the wall and listened.
"I heard he didn't even awaken a profession. No Talent, no Class, no System. He's seventeen and still useless."
There was cruel laughter.
Vaughe's heart pounded.
"So this world has a system... talents, professions..."
He clenched his fists. That explains it. Whoever I've replaced had nothing. No talent. No future. That's why he...
Suddenly, a voice echoed in his mind:
[SYSTEM INITIALIZING... WELCOME, PARAGON CANDIDATE: VAUGHE CRIMSON]
His eyes widened.
[RECOGNITION COMPLETE. YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED THE UNIQUE TALENT: SPACE DEITY'S BODY]
[UNLOCKING FIGHTER CLASS EXCEPTIONAL PROFESSION: ALL-FOR-ONE]
[COSMIC RECOGNITION CONFIRMED. SYSTEM INSTALLATION SUCCESSFUL.]
A blinding blue light flared before his eyes. A semi-transparent interface hovered in the air.
> [Paragon System Interface Active]
Name: Vaughe Crimson
Profession: All-for-One [Fighter Class]
Talent: Space Deity's Body [UNDEFINED-GRADE]
Level: 1
Status: Stable
Authority Level: Initialization
Vaughe stumbled back, breathing heavily.
Space Deity's Body? Paragon System? All-for-One?
His hands trembled. The same hands that once held Caelia as she died.
"What the hell is going on..."
Another notification appeared.
[WARNING: TALENT GRADE EXCEEDS SYSTEM PARAMETERS. DEFINING AS: BEYOND-GRADE]
[NOTE: YOU ARE THE ONLY SYSTEM HOLDER IN THIS WORLD. KEEP YOUR EXISTENCE HIDDEN.]
Vaughe swallowed hard.
That last part sealed it. Whatever had happened, he wasn't just dropped into a parallel world—he'd been summoned.
But by who?
His thoughts were interrupted as another voice echoed in his mind, different this time. Familiar, yet distorted—aged and deeper.
"Vaughe... if you're hearing this, then it means I succeeded. I've summoned you."
His pulse froze.
"You're me. From the future. This world—Neo Terra—was once my home. I had no talent, no profession, no future. But I discovered the truth. And I chose you to carry it."
Then silence.
The message ended as suddenly as it came.
Vaughe stood frozen.
My future self... summoned me here? But why?
His mind raced. If the former Vaughe had no power, how did he unlock a summoning ritual powerful enough to pull someone across worlds?
Unless... he never did.
The universe did.
As if in response, the System chimed softly:
[THE UNIVERSE RECOGNIZED YOUR EXISTENCE. YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED THE PARAGON SYSTEM.]
[YOU ARE NOW BOUND TO THE COSMIC THREAD.]
[WARNING: USE OF COSMIC AUTHORITY WILL INCUR HEAVY PHYSICAL, MENTAL, AND SPIRITUAL TOLL.]
Vaughe sat on a nearby bench, his heart pounding.
All of this. The transmigration. The awakening. The whispers of a greater path. Cosmic Authority?
It was too much.
And yet—
He felt alive. For the first time in years.
No longer hunted by grief. No longer haunted by Caelia's death. Here, in this foreign yet familiar world, he had power. He had purpose.
He closed the interface with a gesture.
His face hardened. No one could know about this—not yet.
He needed to understand the world. Its rules. Its power structure.
Then, and only then, could he act.
He looked at his reflection in a sleek obsidian wall.
Jet-black hair, tousled and sharp. Blue irises that seemed to shimmer unnaturally now. His body—lean, muscular, athletic—brimming with quiet strength.
"I'm not the old Vaughe anymore," he whispered.
Then the memory of her returned.
Caelia.
Her name drifted through his mind like a ghost. But the moment her face came to focus, the infirmary doors opened.
A girl stepped in.
And his heart stopped.
She had the same silver hair. The same gentle eyes. The same aura of quiet sadness.
It was her.
"Vaughe?" she asked, surprised. "You're awake?"
He stared, speechless.
She tilted her head. "You… look different."
He clenched his fists.
Is this fate? Or some cruel joke?
But deep down, he already knew. This Caelia wasn't the one who died in his arms back on Earth.
Yet, she was still Caelia.
The same name. The same face.
His heart ached. Longing. Confusion. Hope.
He managed a soft smile. "Yeah... I just needed some rest."
She smiled gently. "I'm glad you're okay. I was worried."
Then she turned and walked away.
Vaughe watched her go, thoughts churning like a storm.
He had been given a second chance.
A new world. A system. A talent beyond comprehension.
And her.
But this time, he wouldn't be weak. He wouldn't let her die.
He wouldn't let anyone control his fate again.
He would rise—not just as a Talent-Bearer.
But as a Paragon.
And when the time came, he would uncover the truth behind Neo Terra, the System, the summoning—and the hidden war no one dared speak of.
Because he was no longer just Vaughe Crimson.
He was the Cosmic Rebirth.