The day had been a blur. One moment, Dante was lying in his decrepit apartment, trapped in the monotony of his miserable life, and the next, he found himself standing in the middle of a sprawling academy courtyard. The air was crisp, the sunlight dazzling, and the distant hum of life and energy filled the space. The transition had been jarring—like waking from a dream only to find yourself in another, more vivid one.
Crystal spires stretched toward the heavens, their surfaces refracting light in impossible patterns that painted the ground with rainbow-hued shadows. The architecture defied earthly physics, with floating walkways connecting buildings that seemed to phase in and out of reality. Students traversed these ethereal paths with casual confidence, as if walking on air was as natural as breathing.
He wandered the academy grounds for hours, trying to make sense of it all. Students bustled past him, their uniforms pristine and their chatter filled with talk of classes and magical disciplines. No one looked at him. No one spoke to him. It was as if he didn't exist—a ghost in a world of vibrant life. The sensation wasn't entirely unfamiliar; he'd felt invisible for most of his life, but this was different. This wasn't the willful ignorance of cruel peers or disinterested coworkers. This was something deeper, as if he existed slightly out of phase with reality itself.
The academy grounds seemed to shift and change as he walked, paths appearing and disappearing like the ever-changing patterns in a kaleidoscope. He passed courtyards where students practiced what could only be magic—spheres of elemental energy dancing between their fingertips, plants growing and withering at their command, and portals opening to reveal glimpses of distant worlds.
By the time he found his way to the small house assigned to him—an unassuming structure tucked just beyond the academy gates—he was exhausted. The house was sparse but cozy, with just enough space to function as a temporary home. It was almost too perfect, too clean, compared to the chaos of the life he had left behind. The walls seemed to pulse with a faint energy, and the air inside felt charged, as if the very atmosphere was alive with potential.
Dropping his bag at the door, Dante headed straight for the bathroom. His body felt strange, heavy in ways he couldn't explain. Each step seemed to carry more weight than it should, as if gravity itself was adjusting to his presence. He splashed water on his face, hoping the coolness would ground him in this new reality. Then he looked up.
The mirror reflected a face that wasn't his own.
Dante froze, his heart thundering in his chest. The person staring back at him was impossibly beautiful, their features delicate yet striking. Her hair cascaded in luminous waves, each strand catching the light like threads spun from molten gold. Her eyes, prismatic and shifting with the colors of the rainbow, glowed with an unearthly brilliance. The face in the mirror was both familiar and alien—he could see echoes of his former self in the bone structure, but everything else had been transformed into something otherworldly.
But it wasn't just her face that had changed. His chest...
He staggered back, wide-eyed. His chest had swollen, it was perfectly round, radiant, and glowing in a way that defied all logic .His chest had become a massive 2 meters, impossibly large—each breast was perfectly round, radiant, and glowing in a way that defied all logic. They seemed more like a symbol of divine grace than a physical burden, pulsing with an inner light that synchronized with his heartbeat. Dante stumbled toward the mirror again, his reflection like a strange, twisted version of a goddess, both terrifying and magnificent.
He was... different. Transformed. Reborn.
Your transformation is complete, a voice chimed in his mind. It was calm, cool, almost soothing—like a mountain stream in winter.
Dante's heart skipped a beat. He clutched the sink, almost losing his balance. Who's there?
I am the Omnipotent System, assigned to guide you in this new reality. Your previous form was deemed inadequate for the challenges ahead. Modifications have been made to optimize your potential.
Dante's pulse raced as he turned, trying to understand the impossible reflection before him. Modifications? What are you talking about? Why do I look like this?
Your body has been modified to enhance your strength, endurance, and adaptability. Your previous limitations have been removed. This form is better suited to channel the energies you will need to master.
The words sank in, and Dante's knees went weak. His body felt alien to him, overwhelming in its strangeness. The room seemed to spin, reality bending around him like a funhouse mirror. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think of Stacy—what would she say if she could see him now? The thought brought a bitter laugh to his lips.
But this... he whispered, shaking his head. This doesn't make any sense. I was supposed to become stronger, not... this.
Your survival is paramount. This form grants you the strength and resilience necessary to navigate this world. As your power grows, so too will your physical form. Gender and appearance are merely vessels for power in this realm.
Dante stumbled back into the wall, trembling. "I just wanted a second chance... not this." His voice cracked, emotions warring within him—fear, confusion, and underneath it all, a strange sense of liberation.
The voice remained indifferent. This is your second chance. You will come to understand the power of your transformation in time. The multiverse cares not for human concepts of identity.
His head spun as he processed the weight of it all. Was this some kind of joke? A cruel twist of fate? Or was it something more—a true rebirth, free from the constraints and expectations that had shackled him in his previous life?
"What do I do now?" he asked, his voice wavering.
The system didn't respond right away. Instead, the air around him shimmered, and another panel appeared in front of him, glowing with an inner light that seemed to pierce through reality itself:
Omnipotent System - Status Screen
Name: Dante Miller Class: Extra Talent: None Potential: Locked
The words glowed brightly before his eyes, each letter seeming to pulse with possibility.
Great, he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. So I'm a 'classless' nobody in this new world. What a fantastic start. The bitter taste of his old life threatened to rise again—always the outsider, always the failure.
Your potential is vast, the voice responded calmly. The System will unlock your talents and abilities as you grow. Your progress will be determined by your actions. The more you achieve, the greater your power will become. Your status as an 'Extra' is not a limitation—it is a blank canvas.
Dante narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of the surreal situation. He wanted to scoff, to reject this world and everything about it. But part of him—the part that had been broken and beaten down for so long—felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this was his chance to prove he wasn't worthless. Maybe he could finally take control of his life, his destiny.
He studied his new reflection again, forcing himself to really look at what he had become. The face that stared back was beautiful, yes, but it was more than that. There was strength in those prismatic eyes, power in the way light seemed to bend around this new form. Perhaps this transformation wasn't a curse but a gift—a chance to shed the weakness and pain of his past life like an old skin.
He sighed deeply, steadying himself. There was no going back now. The old Dante—the broken man, the betrayed husband—was gone. In his place stood someone new, someone with the potential to be extraordinary.
Well then, Dante said aloud, his voice firmer. Let's see where this takes me.
With that, he turned and walked out of the bathroom, stepping into a new life. His past and the weight of it faded into the distance, but the faintest spark of determination burned in his chest. The academy awaited, and with it, the chance to become something more than he had ever dreamed possible.
As he stepped out, the air around him shimmered with possibility, and for the first time in longer than he could remember, Dante felt truly, completely alive.