Rami awoke to the morning light seeping through the cracked windows of an old house. He tried to rise, but his body wouldn't move, as if drained by a long journey.

He glanced around the room; the walls were crumbling, and the low ceiling made it feel like a relic from another time. Leaning on the bed, trying to gather his strength, he whispered, "What's happening? Where am I?"

Rami sat there, struggling to make sense of his surroundings. Memories suddenly flooded his mind like an old film. These weren't fleeting glimpses, but vivid, painful recollections of a nine-year-old child. The images came back with such intensity that Rami felt as if he were living someone else's life.

A picture of the man who had been the father of this body's previous owner flashed in his mind—a weary man whose face showed the weight of debts and pressures. The man endured much before passing away early, leaving the family in a weakened state.

Rami winced as he envisioned a small child, no older than five, sitting in a corner, staring at his father's corpse with tear-filled eyes. The child's sorrowful gaze at the world was heart-wrenching.

Then came the image of the mother, a young, beautiful woman working tirelessly to provide for her children. She juggled several jobs, determined to give them a decent life despite harsh circumstances. Rami felt a deep sadness as he saw her struggle with the burdens of the family. Life wasn't easy, full of challenges brought by economic and social hardships.

The memories showed how the mother faced mounting pressure after her husband's death. Suitors approached her, wanting her but not her children. She bravely turned them down, insisting on caring for her family, despite the struggles.

Things improved gradually, but hope was fragile. Life always had a way of delivering unexpected blows.

One day, while she was selling fruit, a wealthy man named Nabil became captivated by her beauty. He offered her money for a night, assuming she'd accept. When she refused, he grew angry and ordered his guards to take her by force. Cornered, the mother made a desperate decision.

Instead of fleeing or surrendering, she grabbed a knife from her stall and stabbed herself in the chest, defending her honour.

This was what the townspeople had told the original owner.

With her death, the original owner felt his world collapse. The weight of grief consumed him. His mother, who had cared for him since childhood, was gone.

Later, he learned from the people that they hadn't just killed her—they beheaded her and hung her head at the city gate. That final blow shattered what little remained of his heart. The cruelty and injustice he faced became unbearable.

Tears streamed down Rami's face as he mourned the body's original owner. Although he had seen death before, this incident struck him the hardest. Perhaps it was more tragic, or maybe the memories felt too real as if they were his own.

As he relived those painful memories, Rami felt the weight of responsibility grow. He couldn't continue without striving to change his fate. Every memory, every image from the original owner's past, strengthened his resolve to seek revenge and care for Layla, who was now under his protection.

Rami struggled to get out of bed, his body still weak. The pain was sharp, but he ignored it, pushing himself up. Suddenly, the door creaked open, and his little sister, Layla, walked in. She froze when she saw him awake.

Layla, around six years old, could have been beautiful if not for her thinness and pale skin. The worry on her face made her seem older.

She rushed to the bed and threw herself into his arms, crying with joy.

"Brother!" she cried, hugging him tightly. "You're finally awake! I was so scared."

Rami patted her back gently, though his strength was failing. "Don't worry, Layla. I'm okay now."

Layla lifted her head, eyes still wet with tears, and said, "Don't get up!"

Rami tried to remember the cause of his injuries, but his memory was foggy. Slowly, images began to clear. He had been on his way home after working for a month to buy something special for Layla's birthday. A gang of youths had attacked him, trying to rob him. When he refused, they beat him senseless.

He smiled bitterly. "Before I seek revenge for my family, maybe I should start by avenging myself."

"How long was I out?" he asked.

"One day," Layla said, her voice trembling.

"I'm here now, and I'm much better. Don't be afraid."

Layla wiped her tears and stood up. "I'll get you some food."

Rami watched her leave, then lay back on the pillow. After a while, Layla returned with a simple dish and offered it to him with a smile. He ate in silence, though the food was barely edible. But he finished it, knowing it would speed up his recovery, and he hadn't eaten in a day.

---

A week later, after resting and slowly recovering, Rami decided to return to work. He knew things had been difficult at home, and Layla had sold some belongings to get food. He headed to the security centre, where he worked as a cleaner. A soldier carrying cleaning tools greeted him as he arrived.

"Where have you been?" the soldier asked. "You've been gone for a week."

Rami nodded. "I told the supervisor."

The soldier shrugged. "Yeah, I had to do all the work myself." He left after handing Rami the cleaning Tools.

Rami went about his work as usual, cleaning for hours. Soon, only Commander Drake's office remained.

As he approached the door, he froze. Voices were coming from inside, discussing the "super serum."

Rami held his breath and listened.

"Is the shipment coming today?" the captain asked.

"Yes, sir. It arrives today," came the reply.

"Tighten security. This serum is for the nobles in the capital. No mistakes, or we're dead."

"Understood, sir. But where will we store it tonight?"

"Near the northern prison. Even if someone tries to steal it, they'll never think to look there. I'll increase the guards just for tonight. The shipment leaves for the capital tomorrow."

Rami's mind raced. He remembered from the original body's memories that the super serum could awaken magical affinity or make someone a mage or warrior. But it was incredibly expensive.

Hearing footsteps, he slipped away before anyone saw him. Half an hour later, after pretending to clean elsewhere, he returned to Drake's office and continued cleaning as usual.