The sound was sharp, cruel, slicing through the silence of the room.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
My hand reached blindly across the small bedside table, knocking over an empty coffee cup before finally slamming down on the alarm. The noise died, but its echo lingered inside my skull, like a reminder that sleep was never enough.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling of my tiny rented apartment in Tokyo. The paint was peeling in one corner. A faint crack ran along the wall like a scar. Everything about this place felt temporary—just like my life.
Another morning.
Another failure.
I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes. Cold air slipped in through the half-open window, carrying the distant sounds of the city: footsteps, engines, voices that didn't care whether I existed or not.
Bills were scattered on the desk. Rejection emails on my phone. Missed calls from temporary jobs I barely managed to keep.
I had dreams once. Big ones.
Now I only had routines.
I dressed, grabbed my worn-out backpack, and stepped outside. The streets were crowded, as always. Everyone moved with purpose, with somewhere to be—unlike me.
And then—
Light.
Noise.
Impact.
I don't remember the moment clearly.
Only the feeling of weightlessness.
Only the sky breaking apart.
Only the sense that my life… had ended.
I woke up to unfamiliar sounds.
Soft voices. Echoing footsteps. Flowing water.
Slowly, I opened my eyes.
The ceiling above me wasn't concrete.
It was carved.
Golden patterns decorated its surface, glowing faintly in the light filtering through stained-glass windows. The air smelled… clean. Like rain and flowers and old wood.
I tried to move.
My body felt wrong.
Smaller.
Lighter.
Panic surged through me as I lifted my hands.
Tiny hands.
Child's hands.
My breathing became erratic.
"No… no, no…"
I tried to speak—but only a soft, broken sound escaped my lips.
Footsteps approached.
A woman entered the room, wearing a long, elegant dress. Behind her stood a man holding a scroll.
They spoke in a language I didn't recognize.
But I understood their tone.
Serious.
Uneasy.
"…an illegitimate child," the woman said.
"…noble blood," the man replied.
Then a name.
A name that made my heart tremble for reasons I couldn't explain.
"Valeria."
"And the queen… Elyssia."
I didn't know these words.
Yet my soul reacted as if it did.
I wasn't in my world anymore.
I had died.
And been born again.
Later, I would learn what Valeria meant.
Later, I would learn who Queen Elyssia truly was.
Later, I would understand what it meant to be born into nobility… without the right to exist.
But for now, I lay there, trapped in the body of a newborn, with the memories of a broken man.
And one question echoing inside my mind:
In this world… will I be able to protect what I love?