I was drifting in the haze of a dream, something faintly familiar and oddly peaceful.

It was one of those moments when the world fades, and for a brief spell, everything feels still.

Suddenly, a whiff assaulted my nostrils—it was like a wet dog had rolled in a pile of gym socks and then decided to stuff its fart in my nostrils.

'!'

"Uwaahh!—haah...haaa..." My nose twitched, and my eyes shot open just in time to see the offending sight: my brother's grinning face above me.

"Good morning, loser," he sneered, jamming and wiggling his dirty sock-clad toes dangerously close to my face.

"You're dead, fucker," I growled, jolting upright.

'!?'

Before I could even swing at him, a massive weight slammed me back down.

"Get him, Oaf!" my brother cheered as the so-called 'dog' leapt onto my chest.

Its massive paws pinned me to the bed, knocking the air out of my lungs.

"Get it away from me idiot?!" I gasped, struggling to shove the beast off me. "This thing weighs a ton!"

"That's what you get for being weak," my brother taunted, his arms crossed and a smug grin plastered across his face.

"Come on, is this all you've got?"

"You bastard," I spat, still pinned.

"Just wait! Get this thing off me, and once I have my own beast, I'll wipe that smirk off your face!"

"Pfft, hahaha!" He threw his head back, laughing as if I'd just told the funniest joke in the world.

"Oh, your own beast? Sure, sure," he said, pointing towards the small corner of my room. "Don't you already have a pet? Isn't that your mighty champion right there?"

I followed his gaze, my stomach sinking as it landed on the larva.

The tiny creature was squirming lazily on a leaf, completely oblivious to my suffering.

That larva had been given to me when I was five years old, back when the wolf cub—a beast passed down through our family—was gifted to my elder brother.

The cub was our family's pride, but only the one deemed worthy could form a bond with it.

My grandfather had decided my brother, with his Lunar Physique, was the obvious choice.

I had argued, begged, and even tried to prove my worth, but my grandfather remained firm.

I was left to watch as my brother received the cub while I got nothing.

Then, as I sat alone, trying to hide my tears, my childhood friend approached me.

She held out the larva with a bright smile on her face.

// Now you have a beast too! // she had said cheerfully, her voice brimming with innocence.

At the time, I didn't have the heart to reject her gift.

She looked so proud of herself, and even though I knew it wasn't the same, a part of me felt warm.

At least someone cared enough to give me something, even if it was a slimy, squirming insect, unlike my whole awful family who don't even come to console me!

But whatever, I consoled myself with the thought that it might grow into something amazing someday.

But that was over a decade ago.

Now, with only five days left until I turned 18—the age when most people awakened their true potential—that same larva hadn't changed at all.

It had remained exactly as it was: a useless, pathetic larva.

It hadn't grown, evolved, or shown even the faintest sign of transformation.

13 whole fucking years as a larva.

In my mind, I cursed my past self, the one who had been reborn into this world.

Back in my previous life, I'd read countless novels where the protagonist awakens some godly cheat ability or magical "golden finger."

I thought that when I came here, I'd be the hero of my own story.

But reality? Reality hit like a rock.

For nearly 18 years, I'd been stuck with nothing.

No awakening.

No power.

Not even a good physique.

Just me, my brother, and this damn larva.

Which did not even become a damn butterfly.

In the meantime, my older brother—who is as cocky, arrogant, and insufferable as they come—had formed a bond with Oaf and even advanced it through two additional stages, resulting in the massive dog that's currently pinning me down and crushing my ribs.

This world was clearly trying to screw me over.

"You're pathetic," he added, leaning casually against the doorway with hands folded and narrowed eyes, a mocking smirk.

"Honestly, how do you even live with yourself? That little bug is going to turn into a butterfly. What're you going to do, flutter me to death?"

"Shut up," I growled.

"What was that?" He cupped a hand to his ear mockingly. "Speak up, weakling."

"Shut. Up." I lying flat while under the paw of that dog, keeping a frown and a utter scoff with the utmost disgust I can mustrr to this bastard.

I have been an orphan in my previous life and always hoped to have a family, seeing how good it was to have an older brother.

But now, seeing this person, I feel like I would have been better off alone! Fuck family!

Darius smirked, clearly enjoying every second of my misery.

"Cyrus and Darius! Get your asses on the dining table now!" our mother's voice echoed from downstairs

"You're just mad because you know I'm right." He turned to leave, but I wasn't letting him off that easily.

"Hey!" I shouted, my voice sharp as a saw, at my two-minute older brother, who was leaving without taking this shitty dog off me."Take your dog with you!"

"It's a wolf, not a dog," he corrected without looking back.

"Whatever!" The beast finally moved toward the door, but as it did, I swore it turned its head and smirked at me.

I felt my mouth twitch, but I still did not want to lift myself up. Lying flat, I was looking at that flash of a smirk and the butt flash that the mutt had just shown before disappearing.

"Sigh, Even a dog smirks on me", Though it may appear to be a funny quarrel, in truth, in a world where the hierarchy was decided by a person's potential, this was too big of a deal considering I was a third-rate individual with no prospect of a future.

It was similar to being born in the slums with blind eyes in my last life—let alone dreaming of a good life; one can't even think of a bright future.

"It's not a dog, dumbass...."

Though I can still hear a fading voice from the doorway, that brother who often tries to act tough and bully me may, at least deep down, just want to see me become strong—I hope so.

But, this life is shitty.

And, I was born a shit.

I sat up slowly, wincing as I rubbed my chest.

My eyes wandered back to the larva.

It was still squirming on the leaf, completely useless.

I let out a long sigh.

"Five more days," I muttered under my breath.

Five more days until my eighteenth birthday.

I'd been hoping—praying—that my time would come sooner.

But now, as the clock ticked down, I wasn't so sure.

I picked up the tiny creature's leaf and held it closer, staring at the slimy little thing that represented all my failures.

My brother was right to mock me.

In a world where strength was everything, what could a butterfly do?

But at least there was some positivity in this life, like how I had a fragrance known as my childhood friend, even if everything was shit.

'Ah shit, I am again trying to console myself'