I woke up to nothing.

Not a single sound, not a whisper, not even the faintest movement. Just an eerie silence, so thick it pressed against my eardrums, making my head pound as if it were ready to crack open. The first thing I felt wasn't the relief of waking up, or the familiar sense of a new day. No. It was pain. A gnawing ache in my chest, a sickening, searing burn behind my eyes.

I couldn't move. Not at first. My limbs felt heavy, sluggish, uncooperative, like they weren't even mine. The warmth of blood—my blood—felt distant, almost unreachable. It was like I was floating in the air, weightless and suspended between some horrible void and the earth itself.

My eyes blinked open, sluggishly. I stared at the ceiling, trying to focus, but everything was so blurred. The stone above me was jagged, ancient, unfamiliar. The dim glow of torches flickered weakly from the walls, casting long shadows that seemed to dance in time with the echo of my heartbeat.

The room around me was a fortress—stone walls, cold and unyielding. But more than that, it felt like a prison. Not just physically. My mind was trapped, trying to make sense of things, but I couldn't. Everything was out of focus.

A dull throbbing pain radiated from the back of my skull, and I tried to raise my hand to my head, but my body resisted. My arms felt like lead. The familiar sensation of control over my own body—the one thing I could always rely on—was completely absent. Panic clawed at the edges of my mind, but I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to stay still.

"Young Master Kael... You're awake!"

The voice broke through my haze like a blade through fog. It was a woman's voice—soft, but with a hint of urgency. A flicker of movement caught my attention as a figure appeared beside me. Her form was blurry at first, but it became clearer with each passing second.

I turned my head to look at her. She was young, her delicate features framed by pale blonde hair, eyes wide with worry. She was a maid, dressed in the standard uniform of someone in service—simple, but there was something about her eyes that hinted at something more, something deeper than mere duty.

The moment she saw me stir, she gasped, relief flooding her face.

"Young Master Kael, you're awake! Thank the gods. I was so worried..." she trailed off, her voice trembling.

I tried to speak, but my throat was dry, scratchy. I barely managed a croak, "Where... where am I?"

"Y-you're in the fortress, Young Master," she replied, a little too quickly. "Don't worry, you're safe now. You were... you were blasted by a magic attack, but you've been unconscious for several days. The doctor is on his way."

Blasted by a magic attack?

The words rang in my ears, but they made no sense. Magic... attack... what was she talking about?

I wanted to ask more, to demand explanations, but the dull pain that had started to fade into the background roared back to life. It surged through me like fire. My eyes squeezed shut in agony, and I gasped for air. The world felt like it was slipping away from me again.

Just then, another figure entered the room—a man, older, with a long coat and a face that looked like it had seen too much. His features were sharp, but his eyes were kind, betraying a calmness that seemed almost out of place in such a tense situation. He was the doctor, I assumed. His steps were measured as he moved closer to me, his gaze sweeping over my body.

"Young Master, how are you feeling?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

"Like I've been run over by a... train," I muttered, my words barely audible.

He let out a short breath, half chuckle, half sigh. "That's an apt description, considering the circumstances."

I frowned, my mind trying to cling to some shred of coherence. Something wasn't right. Why did they keep calling me "Young Master Kael?" Who was Kael? I struggled to push away the confusion. The memories were coming back, but they felt... incomplete. Like holes in the fabric of my consciousness, gaps that my mind couldn't quite fill.

The doctor, seeming to sense my discomfort, placed a hand on my shoulder gently. "I need to check your vitals, young master. You've been unconscious for some time."

He began his examination, but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was what the maid had said.

Young Master Kael.

The name echoed in my mind.

Kael Thorn.

I remember that name. I know that name.

I struggled to recall the details, but the moment the name "Kael" resurfaced in my mind, it was like a floodgate opened, and memories rushed back. A story, a book I had read—a novel.

A novel about a world of magic and monsters, where a hero named Kaiden Reagers would rise to save the world from the forces of darkness. And where Kael Thorn, the villain, would meet his tragic end at Kaiden's hands.

I felt a cold chill run through me, sharper than any physical pain.

I'm the villain.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

I'm Kael Thorn. The scion of House Thorne, a family of immense power in this world. The villain. The one destined to be defeated by the hero.

A cold sweat broke out across my body. I tried to sit up, but my body refused to obey. I had no strength. I was weak. How could I be weak? I remember... I was a monster. A force of power, a schemer, a manipulator, a villain with the strength to match my will.

But now?

I couldn't even move my fingers.

The memories continued to assault me, fragments of past lives, of who I was and who I had become. I remembered the novel—the path the story would take, the future I would inherit, and the fate that would end with my death. The more I remembered, the more it became clear: this wasn't just a new life.

I had been reincarnated into the body of Kael Thorn, the villain who would lose.

I clenched my fists, though it hurt. It hurt to feel so powerless. I could see it now, all the pieces falling into place. I knew the plot. I knew the end. Kaiden Reagers would come for me, and I would fall—just like every other villain in every other story.

But I didn't finish the novel. I don't know how it ends for Kael.

My breath caught in my throat as the weight of my new existence settled in. I could feel the core within me, the one I had obtained from a dungeon. A strange, blackened orb. It pulsed faintly, a dark energy that felt like it was tied to the very fabric of the world itself. It was a power I didn't understand, but it was there. I had it. But what was it for? What did it mean?

"Doctor…" I croaked, my voice shaky. "What happened? How did I get here?"

The doctor hesitated before answering, a slight grimace crossing his face. "You were gravely injured, Young Master. A monster's attack... it nearly killed you. You were found in the wasteland near the dungeon. Your injuries were severe... but we were able to stabilize you."

The wasteland near the dungeon. I remembered now—vaguely. My last memories were of fighting, of monsters, of the pain. It all came rushing back, a chaotic mess of images. But I couldn't make sense of it. I couldn't understand what happened.

I was Kael Thorn.

A villain.

But I wasn't dead.

---

As I lay there, struggling to make sense of this strange new reality, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. I wanted to escape the endless spiral of thoughts, the confusion, the fear.

But it didn't matter. I couldn't run away from the truth.

I was the villain in someone else's story.

---

The doctor spoke again, breaking my thoughts. "Rest now, Young Master. You need time to recover. You've been through a lot."

But I couldn't rest. Not yet. My mind was too full, too lost in the chaos of memories and self-doubt.

The maid and doctor exchanged a look before she spoke, her voice soft and uncertain.

"Young Master... You... you do remember, don't you? Your... your past life?"

Past life? The words hit me like a blow.

Of course I remember.

---

I was Kael Thorn, the villain of the story. But this time... this time, I wasn't going to die.

Not yet.