The dormitory was quiet, save for the occasional creak of wood settling and the soft rustle of the wind outside. Samson lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. His body was still, but his mind raced, replaying the events of the day. The humiliation in the Mana Chamber, the disdain from his peers, and the rare but peculiar Lightning attribute that now defined him—all of it weighed heavily on his chest.
Eventually, exhaustion claimed him, and his eyelids fluttered shut.
---
He found himself standing in the middle of a battlefield, his armor splattered with blood and dirt. The sky was an ominous gray, thunder rumbling in the distance. Around him, the lifeless bodies of his comrades littered the ground. Their faces were frozen in expressions of pain, fear, and despair.
"Samson!" a voice called out, faint and desperate.
He turned to see Maren, his mother from his past life, reaching out to him, her face pale and streaked with tears. Behind her, Ayla, his younger sister, lay motionless, her once-bright eyes dimmed forever.
"No! This isn't real!" Samson shouted, falling to his knees. His hands trembled as he reached for them, but they were just beyond his grasp.
"You failed us," the voices of his fallen comrades echoed around him. "You were too weak. Too powerless."
The words clawed at his soul, and he screamed, his voice raw and broken.
---
Samson jolted awake, his heart pounding against his ribs. "No! No!" he shouted, sweat dripping down his face.
The room was dark, but a soft voice broke through the silence. "Samson, are you okay?"
He turned to see Pedro sitting up in his bed, concern etched on his face. With a flick of his wrist, Pedro conjured a faint golden glow that filled the room. The light emanated from his hand, soothing yet bright enough to illuminate the shadows.
"You were shouting in your sleep," Pedro continued. "Was it a nightmare?"
Samson took a moment to steady his breathing. "Yeah… Just a bad dream. Sorry if I woke you."
Pedro shook his head. "Don't apologize. Nightmares can be rough. If it's something that keeps happening, I can help. My Light magic has a purification spell that can cleanse your dreams. It's not a permanent solution, but it might give you some peace tonight."
The offer was tempting. The pain of reliving that nightmare was almost unbearable. But Samson shook his head, forcing a weak smile. "Thanks, Pedro, but I'll be fine. I think I'm just anxious about my first day here. A little fresh air should help clear my mind."
Pedro hesitated, studying him for a moment before nodding. "Alright. If you're sure. Just… don't let it eat you up, okay? We all have stuff we carry."
"I know. Thanks," Samson said as he slipped out of bed.
Pedro didn't press further, respecting Samson's need for space. As Samson stepped out onto the balcony, Pedro lay back down, his golden light fading until the room was once again bathed in darkness.
---
The cool night air greeted Samson as he leaned against the stone railing of the balcony. The academy grounds stretched out before him, shrouded in the soft glow of moonlight. The crescent moon hung high in the sky, its pale light casting long shadows.
Samson's mind raced as he gazed at the moon. The disdain of his classmates echoed in his ears, but their words weren't what haunted him most. It was the revelation in the Mana Chamber—the Lightning attribute.
In his past life, his magic attribute had been Light. He remembered it clearly—the spells, the purification. Light magic had been his identity and yet now it has been altered this time.
"How?" he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible.
His eyes drifted to the mysterious watch strapped to his wrist. It gleamed faintly, as if in response to his thoughts. The watch had already proven to be extraordinary, rewinding time and granting him elemental powers. Was it responsible for the change in his magic attribute?
"It has to be," Samson muttered. "But why Lightning? Of all things…"
Lightning was powerful, rare, and unpredictable. It was nothing like the steady, radiant nature of Light magic. Was this change a blessing or a curse? He remembers his encounter with those bullies. His watch first used lightning magic. Maybe this can be the reason.
Samson sighed, running a hand through his hair. "People are going to troll me for my mana levels, no matter what magic I have," he said bitterly. "But this… this wasn't supposed to happen. Everything is different now."
The moon offered no answers, only its silent, watchful presence. Samson closed his eyes, letting the cool breeze calm his restless thoughts.
---
The next morning, the academy buzzed with energy as students hurried to their first classes. Samson joined the crowd, his nerves on edge. His mind was still clouded by the events of the previous night, but he forced himself to focus.
The first class was held in a grand lecture hall, its high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings of ancient runes. The students filed in, their chatter filling the air. Samson found a seat near the middle, hoping to blend in.
As the professor entered, the room fell silent. He was an older man with a commanding presence, his robes flowing behind him as he strode to the front of the class.
"Good morning, students," he began, his voice resonating through the hall. "Welcome to your first day at Alamcaran Academy. I am Professor Eldric, and I will be your instructor for Basic Mana Theory. Here, we will lay the foundation for your magical studies."
Samson listened intently as Professor Eldric began his lecture, explaining the fundamentals of mana flow and manipulation. Despite his nerves, Samson found himself engrossed in the subject. It was familiar territory, and his previous knowledge from the national magic exam gave him confidence.
But as the lecture continued, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Glancing around, he noticed Siddhartha and Eva seated near the front, their expressions unreadable. They didn't seem to notice him, but their mere presence was enough to remind him of the gap between them.
"Focus," Samson muttered to himself, redirecting his attention to the lecture.
As the class ended, students began to gather in groups, discussing the material and forming alliances. Samson lingered for a moment, unsure where he fit in this new world.
"Hey, Samson!" Pedro's voice called out, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Pedro approached with a grin. "How was your first class?"
"It was… good," Samson replied, grateful for the familiar face.
"Good! Let's grab lunch before the next one." Pedro said, leading the way.
As they walked, Samson felt a small spark of hope. The road ahead was uncertain, but he was determined to navigate it, one step at a time.