The world stirred gently.
Zen's eyes fluttered open, greeted not by moonlight, but by the piercing glow of morning sun. He winced, his eyes twitching against the brightness. The light was too sharp, too sudden — a stark contrast to the quiet silver of the night before.
He lay on soft grass, the earth cool beneath him. A calm wind whispered through the trees, making branches sway and blades of grass dance in rhythm. The air was perfect — not too cold, not too warm — as if the forest itself had chosen to welcome him gently.
For a moment, he simply breathed.
Then it struck him.
This body… it wasn't his. Not the one he remembered. He sat up slowly, the realization settling like a weight in his chest. No memories of how he got here. No knowledge of the world around him.
"Memory Synchronization: Initiated."
He clutched his temples as a faint headache bloomed. Images flickered — not of past lives, but fragments. His name. His age. Fourteen. An orphan. But beyond that… nothing. No family. No home. Just silence.
Then came the world.
A rush of knowledge poured in — not personal, but universal. This was a realm of magic, vast and ancient. A place where species thrived in harmony and conflict: elves and fairies beloved by nature, dwarves proud in their craft, vampires cursed by sunlight, demons feared by all, beastkin and werewolves bound to instinct and moon.
Zen's breath caught. The realization hit hard: this was a beginning. A new life in a world of magic, danger, and limitless possibility.
He stood slowly, brushing dew from his clothes. His shadow stretched across the grass, long and soft under the sun's golden gaze.
He focused.
No words. No commands. Just intent.
The shadow twitched.
Zen's breath caught. It wasn't the wind. It was him. He narrowed his eyes, concentrating harder. The shadow curled slightly, then rippled — slow, deliberate, like a ribbon responding to thought.
A surge of excitement bloomed in his chest.
But then, pain.
A sharp pulse behind his eyes, followed by a dull ache in his chest. He staggered, clutching his ribs. The shadow snapped back to normal, and the world seemed to blur for a moment.
Zen dropped to one knee, panting. Too much. He hadn't realized it, but the effort had drained something deeper — mana. His reserves were faint, incomplete.
Still seated, he closed his eyes and thought inwardly:
System… show me my status.
" System Interface"
Name: "Zen Lawkey"
Age: "14"
Status:" Reincarnated "
Element: "Shadow "
— Latent affinity. Allows manipulation of one's own shadow. Further details locked.
Core Skill: "Moonblade "
— A sword technique that awakens under moonlight. Conditions unknown.
Attributes:
Strength: 10
Agility: 14
Intelligence: 16
Charm: 8
Mana: 50
Zen stared at the glowing panel, heart thudding. The numbers meant little now, but they felt important — like pieces of a puzzle he hadn't yet learned to solve. His eyes lingered on Shadow. It pulsed faintly, as if waiting to be understood.
Then the system's voice returned:
"Guidance available. Recommended path: Join Silvery Academy — the continent's premier institution for awakened talents. Estimated preparation time: two years. Optional, but advised."
Zen's gaze lifted to the sky, sunlight filtering through the leaves. His lips curved into the faintest smile.
A new world. A new body. A system.
And now… a quest.
The path to Silvery Academy had begun.