Even though Miles could no longer see or hear what was going on around him, he was still able to perceive the images flashing through his mind. Now, however, it felt like a dream. These scenes should only be possible in a dream, unless they were projected on a TV screen.
Luckily for Miles, because it now truly felt like a dream, the pain disappeared, allowing him to focus on the information flowing through his mind like a river downstream.
Miles wanted to be shocked by the story unfolding before him. It felt impossible to the soul currently inhabiting the body of the young man at the center of this new play. But deep down, these scenes resonated with him. Although the life story he had lived through twice was larger, the connection he felt with this new narrative grew.
He watched as a young boy, maybe six or seven, who shared the same name, played with his older brother and younger sister. His parents sat in floating chairs, watching the children run around in the backyard of a mid-sized house. Smiles danced across their faces as they held hands, enjoying the children's activities.
Slowly, the scene faded. Miles found himself sitting against a wall. To his left was a door, barely ajar. On the other side, he could hear his parents yelling at each other—one demanding an explanation while the other struggled to provide one.
Shifting to another time, young Miles was now ten years old, hugging his mother's waist as he shed tears. They stood in front of the same house where he had played with his siblings just moments ago.
In front of the house was a vehicle that looked like a moving van, but strangely, it was floating and had no wheels. In front of the vehicle stood a four-legged beast resembling a wolf but with scales instead of fur—an Iron-Scaled Wolf, measuring 2.5 meters (8 feet) long. This was his father's beast companion, standing guard with its eyes fixed on his mother.
Boxes surrounded the floating vehicle. Miles could see his father, younger sister, and elder brother packing the car. While his younger sister occasionally glanced over at their mother and brother waiting on the porch, the father-and-son duo ensured she didn't stop helping.
Once the boxes were stowed away, his father called out to the Iron-Scaled Wolf, as he got into the van with the two children. The Iron-Scaled Wolf led the way as they disappeared into the city without looking back.
Before the car was out of sight, everything changed again. Now Miles, still ten years old, stood in front of a crowd of adults, surrounded by children who appeared to be of similar ages.
Some children wore anxious but excited expressions, while one group cried, and another celebrated loudly. The group celebrating was evidently much smaller than those who were crying.
Miles stared up at a strange device divided into sections. There seemed to be around seven or eight, but the device was blurred in the memory, as were the faces of those surrounding him. The one thing that could be made out was the strong feeling of depression enveloping young Miles at that moment.
Suddenly, he was sitting in a park, a little older than in the previous scene—maybe twelve or thirteen. On the table in front of him lay an open notebook filled with words. Sitting across from Miles was a younger version of Leyla. To his right was a boy with blond hair and golden eyes, his gaze locked onto Leyla. The name of this handsome boy didn't come to mind, perhaps because teenage Miles was focused on the notebook.
Trying to concentrate on the words written on the pages, all that could be deciphered before the scene vanished was "How to Succeed Without Talent."
All the scenes sped up once again. All Miles could make out were images of himself working out, studying, or meditating.
Finally, the flood of information and memories came to an end with Miles lying down to sleep. He looked just as he had when he woke up that morning. However, as he watched the teenage version of himself sleep, he saw something shocking: his body shifted from the darker hue associated with someone of mixed descent to a pungent green.
The sleeping boy stopped breathing, and slowly, green smoke began to flow from his body. Then he woke up, and what had just happened before he ended up in this dream-like space played out again.
The constant flow of images was cut off. A dark space of unknown width and depth replaced it. Slowly, a ghost-like form began to take shape.
"It seems I have been reincarnated. But it feels like I've also gained memories of a past life," Miles spoke to himself, not yet realizing he was now a misty form.
Miles stayed lost in thought, sifting through the memories he had gained. Initially, he felt like one soul gaining memories left behind in a body as its original soul departed for the afterlife.
But slowly, as he processed the memories of both lives, he realized that wasn't quite the case. Just because the memories existed didn't mean the connections and feelings someone had experienced would remain intact. They could influence him during the recollection of the memory itself, but they probably wouldn't shape his feelings toward another person as they had when he looked at Leyla.
In truth, this wasn't a reincarnation of one person replacing another. It was a split soul coming together to be whole after living two lives apart—a mending of a soul from two individual pieces into one whole.
The true soul of Miles Duke.
Now he understood why the name stood out so strongly when the storm of information first rattled his brain. It wasn't because he was originally Miles Duke from an Earth where superhuman beings were mere fantasy.
Nor was he a Miles who grew up in that fantasy, where people became strong enough to rival gods. He was a combination of the two: the Miles who believed money dictated power and the Miles who understood that true strength came from individual capability.
He was not one or the other; both were him. Without one, he was incomplete.
This epiphany led to a sigh of relief. Yes, he may have died not only once—not just twice, if this line of thinking was accurate—but likely at least three times, one more than he could remember, as his soul reassembled.
Thinking this way allowed him to calm down more quickly than if he had followed a different train of thought. Accepting that he was now complete and that both pasts he had just experienced were roads he had walked until he could be whole again provided him a positive outlook on what was to come.
Shifting his focus to the present, Miles decided to process the information related to his current world. Many changes accompanied this new situation.
This world resembled the fantasy realms that the more dominant part of his soul remembered reading about; however, it was not quite the same.
The city he was in was called Gold Ocean City. How it got that name, considering there were no gold or oceans nearby, was a question for another day.
Contrary to what he would expect in a fantasy world filled with magic, sword-wielding heroes, other humanoid races, and magical beasts, the city felt quite modern—in fact, it felt futuristic.
Skyscrapers towered in the downtown area. As one traveled farther from the city center, the buildings grew shorter; instead of an abundance of businesses, there was a profusion of housing.
In contrast to the modern buildings surrounding it, the central structure resembled a palace.
The palace matched the feudalistic governance prevalent in this new world. Kingdoms and empires existed everywhere until this very year. In fact, Miles was currently a commoner in the Kaihuo Empire.
Yet, the changes in governance and the futuristic city weren't what surprised or excited him the most. Two changes captured his attention above all else.
One was the existence of mana and inner energy. The other was the status system.