I opened my eyes to darkness.
For a moment, I thought I was still in the office, waking up from one of my many accidental naps. I expected to hear the hum of the fluorescent lights above or feel the rough, familiar texture of my desk under my cheek. But the silence here was deafening, and the air... it smelled clean.
The last thing I remember was reading an ancient text I found in a pawn shop just across the office. I have a particular interest in these things.
I blinked, trying to clear my mind from the fogginess. It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. I was walking home after another soul-crushing day at the company. I had finally decided to quit—resign from the endless cycle of drudgery. Maybe even start my own business. But now... now, I was here, wherever here was.
Slowly, a soft light flickered above me, casting a warm, golden glow over my surroundings. I wasn't in my office. Hell, I wasn't even in my dingy little apartment. I was lying in what looked like a massive four-poster bed, the canopy draped with rich, burgundy curtains. The sheets were silk, far too soft and luxurious for someone like me. My heart raced. This wasn't right.
I sat up, trying to shake off the dizziness that clouded my head. My hands grabbed at the sheets, and something felt different—the way my fingers moved, the strength behind them, the softness of my skin. I held my hands up to the light, examining them. These weren't my hands. They were smaller, more delicate, and—wait, were these calluses? My fingers, though slender, were callused like I had been training with a sword.
What the hell was going on?
A sharp knock sounded at the door, and I froze. Panic surged through me. I had no idea where I was or who I was supposed to be. But instinctively, I pulled myself out of bed, barely noticing the fine silk pajamas I was wearing. My feet hit the cool marble floor with a soft thud as I steadied myself.
"Master Ryuji?" A soft, feminine voice called from behind the door. "May I enter?"
Master... Ryuji? Who the hell was that?
Before I could answer, the door opened slightly, and a young woman stepped into the room. She wore a maid's uniform, her brown hair neatly tied back, and her eyes were downcast as if she didn't dare look directly at me. She seemed nervous, but she smiled politely.
"The Duke has requested your presence for breakfast, young master," she said quietly, bowing slightly.
Duke? Young master? My head spun. This wasn't a prank. It couldn't be. No one could afford to set something like this up. It was too real—the details, the weight of the world around me, the feel of the air. This wasn't a dream either. I'd pinched myself a few times already.
"What's... the date today?" I asked, my voice coming out softer than expected. Not my voice either.
The maid blinked in surprise but quickly recovered. "It is the 12th day of the Crimson Moon, year 932 of the Celestial Calendar."
The... what now?
I could feel my heart beating in my throat. This wasn't Earth. The realization hit me like a truck. I wasn't in my world anymore. And I wasn't me anymore.
The memories flooded in suddenly—like a dam breaking. Images, thoughts, and feelings that weren't mine crashed through my mind. I stumbled, grabbing onto the bedpost for support as my head swam with foreign memories.
Ryuji Valorian. Noble son of the Duke of Valorian. A child prodigy in swordsmanship and magic. Heir to one of the most powerful families in the kingdom. My family.
No. No, this couldn't be happening. I was supposed to be an ordinary man, trudging through life. The boring kind of existence where you get a paycheck and hope for the weekend. Not this. Not... reincarnation.
But the more I sifted through the memories, the more I realized that this was my reality now. I wasn't that office worker anymore. I was Ryuji Valorian. A young noble, barely fourteen years old, and living in a world of mana, swords, and ancient magic.
The maid was still standing there, patiently waiting for me to respond. I could feel her nervousness growing. I realized then that any odd behavior would be suspicious. I had to play along until I could figure out more.
"Tell my father I'll be down shortly," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
The maid nodded and quickly excused herself, leaving me alone in the room once again.
I took a deep breath. This was insane. Impossible, really. But as I looked around the grand room—this room that was now mine—I knew I didn't have the luxury to deny it any longer.
I walked to the window and pulled the heavy curtains aside. Beyond the glass stretched a sprawling estate, with lush green gardens and towering stone walls. Beyond that, I could see the distant spires of a castle, and even further, mountains that touched the sky. It was breathtaking. Unreal.
But I had no time to admire the view. I needed answers.
And then I felt it—something I hadn't noticed before. A presence. Something lingering in the back of my mind, like a voice whispering just out of reach. I closed my eyes, focusing on it, and in an instant, it was like a switch had been flipped.
A screen appeared in my vision, hovering just before me:
[System Initialized]
Welcome, Sovereign of Fate.
Fate scripts available: [10,324]
My heart stopped. A system? Fate? It was like a game interface, but the implications were far bigger than any game I'd ever known.
Beneath the message was a single option, a prompt that made my blood run cold:
Would you like to begin altering the script of this world?
Yes or No.