"Huuh..." Maximus let out a quiet sigh as he stirred from a deep stupor.
Looking down, he noticed his fingers still wrapped around a cup filled with warm tea. His throat felt dry, and without a second thought, he took a sip.
"Hmm, it's warm," he murmured, savoring the gentle sweetness that played on his tongue.
As Maximus's gaze drifted back to the distant skyline, he slipped into contemplation once more. His thoughts circled around the life his former self had endured.
It struck him as both ironic and oddly amusing how this life had been unfolding almost exactly like the first half of his previous one. Here, he became an orphan again, raised in an orphanage, never knowing the warmth of a family. This life, too, had been nothing but a flat line—no peaks, no valleys. Just a steady, monotonous stretch, drifting by without any significant twists or turns, completely uneventful.
Maximus couldn't quite understand why, but his former self had been far from sociable. He had a dull personality and a strong aversion to socializing—not from shyness, but because he saw little purpose in interacting with others beyond basic courtesy.
As a result, the former Maximus had no friends, not even casual acquaintances. In truth, he'd been somewhat like that in his previous life, too. But back then, he hadn't been as isolated; he'd still made an effort to connect with others, especially his fellow soldiers. He'd had friends—not many, but enough, and they were people he could wholeheartedly trust with his life.
Compulsory education existed in this world as well, though it took a different form, yet was equally vital. Despite being an orphan, the former Maximus still found himself sent to school. His living expenses, including tuition, were all covered by the government. Even so, he remained a loner during those periods. He spoke rarely, only when necessary, whether to teachers or classmates.
No passion, no real dreams, no fire. That was the life his former self had led—like a robot, just drifting through one uneventful day after another, utterly alone.
Fortunately, such a monotone life had changed for the better with the emergence of his previous life's memories. The usual numbness and dullness were replaced by a sharp determination and a burning eagerness to chase after an ultimate goal.
Becoming a ranker…
This matter could be said to be, well... a paradox—it could be both easy and difficult at once.
The first, and by far most crucial step to becoming a ranker, was awakening what was known as an "innate gift."
It wasn't just a spark one could summon at will; it was a supernatural essence, buried deep within every living creature—hidden in the deepest corners of the soul. It lay there like a sleeping beast, waiting for the right trigger, the exact moment to awaken and roar to life.
Once awakened, the innate gift unleashed the body's full potential, granting a person a unique ability and the power to harness something known as Energia—a primal force that seeped into every corner of the world. It was in the air one breathed, deep beneath the earth, and swirling in the cold, black depths of the ocean.
With this energy, a person can strengthen and nourish their body, slowly transforming through relentless practice. Over time, they would grow stronger, more powerful, until one day, they became something far beyond what they once were.
In that sense, an innate gift was like a talent, essential for anyone hoping to walk the path of the rankers. Without it, there was no point in even trying. If someone couldn't awaken their innate gift, the door to that world stayed firmly shut. No amount of whining or regret could open it; the path of a ranker would remain forever out of reach.
The problem was that an innate gift couldn't be awakened through sheer self-effort, nor would it activate on its own. The usual method involved an external intervention—something to deliberately arouse the gift, stirring it from its dormant state.
And it had to happen at the proper time, within a narrow window—between the ages of fifteen and twenty. The belief was that only during those years would the body be mature enough and ready to handle the power brought forth by an innate gift. Before then, it was like trying to pour lightning into a cup—it couldn't hold it. At that age, the chance for success was at its peak.
But here lay another problem. There were only a few things in existence capable of awakening an innate gift, and sadly, they weren't freely available to the masses. These valuable things couldn't be bought with money, nor could they easily be found in nature. They were strictly monopolized by prominent powers, who were rarely willing to use them for the greater good, reserving them instead for their own members.
However, among those major forces were several powerful countries that weren't keen on hoarding all the power for themselves. Luckily for Maximus, the country he now lived in was one of those generous nations. The government here was particularly attentive to its citizens, and a prime example of their care was the annual mass awakening events. These events gave ordinary citizens, without significant backgrounds, the opportunity to try and awaken their innate gifts.
The mass awakenings normally consisted of two events: the general one, held twice a year in every provincial capital, and the juvenile one, conducted simultaneously across all high academies in the country during graduation season. The latter event was exactly the one Maximus had decided to gamble on, as it was specifically meant for recently graduated senior students and was the closest to being held—just a few days away.
Maximus was currently fifteen years old, and before regaining his past life's memories, he had essentially completed all of his compulsory education, from junior school to high academy. He had received his final diploma a month ago, officially marking the end of his time as a student. The only thing left to do now was participate in the graduation ceremony at his school several days later, where the juvenile awakening event would also take place.
It would be at that event that his future shall be determined. Whether or not his innate gift could be awakened, once the event concluded, Maximus would leave his school days behind and step into the world of adults, once again.
Of course, he desperately hoped for a successful awakening. In fact, failure would likely shatter him. It was strange, honestly, but he couldn't shake the feeling—he truly didn't want to fail. Becoming a ranker was something he yearned for deeply, with all his heart. Never before had Maximus felt such an intense longing. It was as if the weight of endless regret would crush him if he failed to achieve the goal.
Ever since he recalled his past life, Maximus had not been idle. While he had yet to leave this apartment room that his former self had rented after leaving the orphanage and starting to attend high academy, Maximus had been doing his best to learn more about this new world. More importantly, he had been focusing on gathering knowledge about rankers—the object of his newfound fascination.
Despite inheriting his former self's memories, Maximus's knowledge of rankers was almost nonexistent, as clueless as anyone could be.
His former self had never been interested in such matters, completely indifferent to rankers to the point of not bothering to learn about them at all. But after three weeks of scouring this world's version of the Internet and devouring every textbook he could find, the former veteran had managed to increase his knowledge considerably. Right now, he wasn't as ignorant as before—he had roughly the same level of understanding as the average populace.
There was still a wealth of information about rankers that remained hidden from the public, and what Maximus had learned barely scratched the surface. However, he felt prepared—at the very least, he was ready to face whatever challenges might arise during the upcoming ceremony.
Shaking off his thoughts, Maximus reached into his pocket and retrieved a small, shiny metallic object.
Clutched in his hand was a device known as a PCT, or Personal Communicator— the equivalent of a smartphone in this world, utilized by nearly everyone. Unlike the purely technology-driven devices of his past life, this one carried a unique blend of magic and science. Its power source was imbued with mystical properties, allowing it to operate far beyond the limitations of conventional technology.
This device was a small but clear proof that magic thrived in society. Its influence was seamlessly woven into everyday life, manifesting even in the simplest objects and quietly powering the world in ways Maximus was still getting used to.
He glanced at the glowing screen and saw it was already 7 a.m. 'I'd better get inside and wash up,' he thought, deciding on his next move. Maximus then turned around and stepped away from the balcony, slipping back into the room.
He had actually just been cooling down after a light workout—something his former self would have scoffed at, but a ritual from his past life that he hadn't let go of. Ever since three weeks ago, he'd stuck to the routine, doing it every morning without fail.
The exercise was good for his body, and for someone aiming to become a ranker, physical health wasn't optional—it was a necessity. Awakening an innate gift was one thing, but staying in top condition was just as crucial. There were no shortcuts on the path to becoming a ranker, and maintaining his physical state was an integral part of the journey. So, sticking to the routine made perfect sense.
What Maximus wanted right now was simple: a shower, and then a trip outside. The daily necessities his former self had bought were nearly run out, so it was time for him to restock. But more than that, he wanted to use this errand as an excuse to see the world with his own eyes.
Even though he had inherited the memories of his former self, who had already experienced much of what this world had to offer, Maximus knew there was a difference between remembering and actually seeing. Memories were just fragments, blurred by time and emotion. But witnessing something firsthand—feeling it in real time—that was a whole different thing.
That was why Maximus felt a flicker of excitement stir within him. The prospect of stepping out and seeing the magical world firsthand, of experiencing it in a way that memories alone couldn't offer, made both his pulse and pace quicken.
After rinsing the teacup at the kitchen sink, Maximus made his way to the bathroom. Moments later, the steady rhythm of water falling echoed through the room, filling the space with a calming, almost hypnotic sound.
The hot water washed over him, easing the tension in his muscles and clearing his mind, the lingering thoughts of the upcoming awakening event pushed aside, if only for a moment. He let the warmth seep into his skin, a brief pause in the whirlwind of thoughts that had consumed him.
A little over ten minutes later, the water stopped, and Maximus stepped out of the bathroom, the towel draped around his waist. He moved with a quiet efficiency, heading straight for the wardrobe. His movements were fluid and practiced, as he'd done this routine a thousand times before.
He picked out his clothes with little hesitation—a pair of light blue jeans, a plain gray t-shirt, and black sneakers. Simple, yet tidy and neat, the kind of casual fashion one would expect from any youngster his age, blending in effortlessly with the crowd. The type of outfit that wouldn't draw attention, but also wouldn't be out of place anywhere. Perfect for the day ahead.
Once he donned the clothes, Maximus stood before the full-length mirror beside the bed, giving his appearance one last once-over.
The mirror reflected a striking figure—a dashing youngster with short raven hair that faded at the sides and messy bangs that fell lazily across his forehead. His angular, well-defined facial features gave him a somewhat sharp presence. His violet eyes, intense and penetrating, stood out like brilliant gemstones against his slightly pale skin. Broad shoulders and a lean build filled out the frame of his casual attire, his tall stature—around 185 centimeters—further amplifying the impression of quiet strength.
All in all, he was a sight for sore eyes, the kind of handsome that lingered in the mind long after he'd passed.
Maximus couldn't help but sigh as he looked at his own reflection. The image staring back at him was undeniably his—no mistaking it. It resembled his younger self from his previous life, perfectly, with no discernible differences. The same face, the same features—very uncanny.
This was the main reason for his speculation that he had reincarnated into a parallel self. If it had been a normal reincarnation, Maximus would have turned into someone else entirely—a different name, a different face, a different life. But this... This was something else. Everything about him was almost the same.
Every time Maximus stared into the mirror since regaining his past life's memories, questions surged in his mind like an unrelenting tide. Was this some kind of cosmic twist? Or was there something else at play here, something far beyond his understanding?
The face staring back at him was his own, yet it carried the weight of two lives—two existences that shouldn't have overlapped, and yet somehow did. The familiarity was almost haunting, a reminder that his second chance came with mysteries he couldn't yet unravel, and perhaps never would.
'It's really mind-boggling...' Maximus remarked inwardly before shaking his head and shoving the thoughts aside. There was no point in dwelling on that can of worms. Answers were as elusive as shadows in the dark. It was futile to question the unexplainable when all he could do was accept the reality at hand and focus on the more pressing matters ahead.
After combing his hair into a stylish shape, Maximus paused for a moment, eyeing his reflection one last time. "Alright, let's go then," he muttered softly, a faint edge of readiness in his voice.
Grabbing his PCT and room keys from a nearby table, he felt the last of his hesitation slip away. He was ready. It didn't take long to reach the door, unlock it, and swing it open. With a final glance back, he stepped outside, locking the door behind him, sealing away the comfort of familiarity…
********
********
Walking steadily along the immaculate sidewalk lined with lush, dew-kissed trees, Maximus inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp morning air. The coolness filled his lungs, a refreshing wave that seemed to cleanse him from the inside out. It set a calm, steady rhythm to his steps, grounding him in the moment. With each breath, the world felt sharper, more vivid, as if he were seeing it anew.
The vibrant scenery around him was a quiet spectacle—birds flitting through branches, the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the gentle hum of life stirring to start the day. It was a picture of peace, yet it stirred something deeper within him.
A wave of emotion welled up, unbidden. It had been so long since he'd walked streets like these, surrounded by the calm of everyday life. The last several years of his previous existence had been swallowed by the chaos of foreign battlefields, where gunfire and desperation drowned out even the faintest echoes of normalcy.
In that life, he never made it back. Not to this. Not to the rhythm of civilization that felt so achingly familiar yet distant, like a song he'd nearly forgotten.
For the first time in years, Maximus could feel the pulse of city life again, and he found himself deeply appreciating it. The clamor of people going about their day, the distant sound of laughter, the rumble of passing vehicles—it was all so ordinary, yet it filled him with a quiet gratitude he hadn't expected. The simple pleasures of a bustling world, untouched by the horrors of war, felt like a gift he hadn't realized he missed so deeply.
Speaking of which, Maximus's identity in this world was that of a citizen of the Etrussia Republic, one of the many nations that made up Atlas. The city he now called home, Nova Regium, was among the major urban hubs in the country—a prosperous metropolis renowned for its economic vitality and high standards of safety.
As its name implied, Etrussia was a unitary republic governed by a democratic constitution. Yet, there was a notable twist: not every citizen held the right to vote. That privilege was reserved exclusively for those who had awakened their innate gifts—rankers.
A bit unfair, sure, but that was just the way here in Atlas. Many other democratic nations around the world followed a similar practice. In this realm, the ability to vote was not seen as a fundamental right but rather as a privilege granted only to the exceptional.
Still, that didn't mean ordinary people were left entirely powerless. Many, like Maximus, had yet to awaken their gifts or might never have the chance to do so. These unawakened citizens vastly outnumbered rankers, simply staggering. And despite lacking the political clout and privileges enjoyed by rankers, the lives of ordinary people were safeguarded and upheld by the state.
In fact, the government took additional measures to protect vulnerable groups. Orphans, the disabled, and other marginalized communities received enhanced support, ensuring they weren't left behind in a world where strength often dictated status. It was a delicate balance between meritocracy and care — a system striving to avoid outright alienating the masses while still celebrating the extraordinary.
But it was precisely this disparity that fueled the aspirations of countless individuals to become rankers. Power, status, privilege—these were not mere luxuries but tangible, life-altering advantages that no one could overlook. Rankers enjoyed access to the most prestigious careers, the highest-paying jobs, and an unparalleled level of respect that ordinary citizens could only envy from afar.
The allure was undeniable, an irresistible beacon promising a golden ticket to a better life.
Returning to the Etrussia Republic, the structure of governance was a mirror of typical democratic states, though with distinct limitations. At the most local level, a junior magistrate held sway over the smallest communities, while towns were governed by senior magistrates. Cities were overseen by prefects, and provinces were commanded by praetors. Above them all, the Senate, with its hundreds of members, debated and shaped the laws of the land.
At the very top of this hierarchy stood the consul, the head of government, who ruled the country with the aid of a cabinet of ministers. However, the unique twist of this system was the requirement that only rankers could hold any of these powerful offices. Elections were held to select leaders for positions such as prefect, praetor, and consul, with the latter occurring once every ten years.
The same system also extended to the armed forces, but it was even more rigid there. Every post, every rank, was determined by a ranker's strength. The stronger the ranker, the higher the position they could hold, regardless of age or experience. The hierarchy was built on combat prowess, and the strongest warriors were elevated to positions of authority.
This structure, mirrored in both government and military, ensured that rankers were at the top of the food chain. Whether in the halls of power or the front lines of battle, they held the reins, while everyone else was relegated to secondary roles.
In summary, Atlas was, at its core, a world of rankers. They were the ruling powers, the dominant class, and their influence permeated every aspect of life. From the government to the military, their strength was the foundation upon which the entire society rested. The power they held wasn't just political or economic; it was ingrained in the very fabric of civilization. Rankers dictated the trends, made the crucial decisions, and ensured that their status remained unquestioned.
For the last two centuries, this dynamic had become unshakeable, all across the world. Ordinary people had to adapt to this order, living under the shadow of those with innate gifts, striving for a place in a society where the strongest held sway.