"Ah!"
I jolted awake, cold sweat clinging to my skin, my heart pounding in my chest. Blinking rapidly, I took in my surroundings, and a wave of confusion washed over me.
"This is... my room? Back on Earth?" I muttered, scanning the familiar walls, the cluttered desk, and the posters I'd never thought I'd see again. "What the hell?"
Knock knock!
"Hey, Ethan! Wake up, you lazy piece of shit! It's almost 8! Hurry up and change, or we're gonna be late for school!"
A girlish voice rang out from the other side of the door. My breath hitched as recognition dawned on me. That voice... I knew it too well.
"Alright, alright! I'm up!" I called back, my voice shaky, still trying to process what was happening.
Staring at the ceiling, I whispered to myself, "Was... being Arthas just a dream?"
Memories surged, unrelenting, vivid flashes of the fifteen years I'd lived as Arthas—the struggles, the triumphs, the pain, and the fleeting moments of joy. It felt too real to be a dream, yet here I was, back in the life I thought I'd left behind.
Shaking my head, I dismissed the thoughts. "It was probably just a dream," I muttered, but the moment the word "dream" left my lips, an excruciating pain exploded in my skull.
"Argh, what the hell?" I groaned, clutching my head as the sharp ache made my vision blur.
There was something... a faint thought clawing at the edge of my mind, but before I could make sense of it, I decided to let it go. "Whatever. A bath will clear my head," I said, grabbing my towel and heading to the bathroom.
__
College life on Earth was... surreal. Everything was exactly as I remembered—my friends, my family, the familiarity of daily routines. It was everything I thought I wanted to see again.
At least, it should've been.
"Hey, babe!"
My sister's voice rang out across the courtyard, filled with an affection I'd never heard from her before. I turned, expecting to see her friends, but instead, she called out to someone standing a few meters away.
When the guy turned to her, my heart sank.
'... George? What the hell is this bastard doing here?'
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My sister—my sister—was with George. George, the guy who made my life a living hell. The one who bullied me mercilessly throughout high school.
"Ethan! Don't just stand there! Come meet George!" she called out cheerfully, her smile wide and oblivious to my inner turmoil. "He's my loving boyfriend~!"
I forced my legs to move, each step feeling heavier than the last. My mind raced, trying to make sense of this twisted reality.
"Yo, the name's George. Nice to meet you, Ethan," he said, extending a hand. His voice was friendly, but the venom behind his words was unmistakable.
"Nice to meet you too, George," I replied, keeping my tone as neutral as possible. My face was a mask of calm, but inside, I was seething.
'What the hell is happening? Why is he here? And why is she with him?'
__
Time dragged on until lunch. My sister had gone off to eat with her friends, leaving me alone in the cafeteria. Not that I minded—I wasn't in the mood for company.
I was halfway through my meal when a shadow loomed over me. Looking up, I wasn't surprised to see George standing there, his friendly facade nowhere in sight.
"Hey, you. Follow me," he ordered, his tone cold and commanding.
I hesitated but decided to go along. I wanted to know what this piece of shit had in store for me.
__
Thud!
"Ack!"
I gasped as pain shot through my gut, the force of George's punch knocking the wind out of me.
I staggered, clutching my stomach as I tried to steady myself. "F-Fuck..." I cursed under my breath, the searing pain spreading through my body.
George smirked, towering over me like the bully he'd always been. "Still as weak as ever, huh, Ethan?" he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain.
My fists clenched, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to suppress the anger bubbling inside me. Memories of Arthas—the strength, the resilience I'd cultivated over years—flashed in my mind, but they felt so far away now.
"You know, it's funny," George continued, his smirk growing wider. "Your sister? She's mine now. And there's nothing you can do about it."
His words cut deeper than the physical pain, but I refused to let him see that. I straightened up, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as I could muster.
"Go to hell, George," I spat, my voice steady despite the tremor in my legs.
He laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed in the empty hallway. "You're already there, Ethan."
George wasn't alone. Of course, he wasn't. Flanking him were his ever-loyal lackeys, grinning like hyenas ready to pounce on wounded prey. Their eyes gleamed with malicious excitement, their fists already curling in anticipation.
"Hey, boys," George sneered, his voice dripping with mockery as he gestured toward me. "Help me beat this fucker up, will ya?"
"Right on it, Boss!" one of them chimed, practically skipping with eagerness.
"You can count on us!" the other added, cracking his knuckles as if he'd been waiting for this moment all his life.
The joy in their voices made my stomach churn. These weren't just schoolyard bullies—they were predators who thrived on the misery of others.
Thud!
"Kuhak!"
A sharp kick to my gut sent me sprawling against the cold, unforgiving wall. Pain radiated through my torso as I clutched at my stomach, gasping for air. One of George's lackeys smirked, clearly pleased with his handiwork.
"Strong legs, huh? Bet the coach loves you," I muttered under my breath, unable to stop myself from throwing out a sarcastic jab despite the pain.
Apparently, my sarcasm wasn't appreciated.
Bam!
A fist connected with my jaw, snapping my head to the side. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth as I slumped against the wall, my legs barely holding me up.
"Still got that smart mouth, huh, Ethan?" George growled, his tone dangerously low. "Maybe we need to shut you up for good."
I clenched my teeth, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. But deep down, I couldn't stop the bitter thoughts from surfacing.
'Why me? Why does it always have to be me?'
I knew their reputations all too well. George, the top of his class and the star athlete of every team he joined, adored by teachers and admired by students. His lackeys weren't much different—both were high achievers in academics and sports, golden boys in the eyes of the school. And yet here they were, using me as their personal punching bag.
'Do the gods loathe me or something?' I thought bitterly, my fists clenching at my sides. My body ached, my pride was in shreds, and my mind felt like it was spiraling into a pit of despair.
Wham!
Another kick landed on my ribs, sending me crashing to the floor. Lying there, gasping for air, I stared at the cold tiles beneath me. My vision blurred, but not from tears—from sheer exhaustion.
'I'm pathetic. Completely powerless,' I thought, gritting my teeth as frustration and anger bubbled beneath the surface.
"Come on, Ethan, don't pass out on us yet," one of the lackeys taunted, his voice laced with mock concern. "We're just getting started!"
George crouched down to my level, grabbing a fistful of my shirt and yanking me forward until we were face-to-face. His grin was cruel, his eyes glinting with satisfaction.
"You've always been nothing but a punching bag," he hissed, his breath hot against my face. "That's all you'll ever be."
My mind raced, desperation clawing at me. For a fleeting moment, a single thought pierced through the chaos.
'I want to go back... Back to being Arthas.'
The memory of Arthas—his strength, his resilience, the power I'd wielded in that other world—surged through me like a lifeline. I could almost feel the weight of a sword in my hand, the warmth of magic coursing through my veins. I wasn't just some weakling then. I was someone.
But here? Here I was nothing.
George shoved me back against the wall, his smirk widening. "You're too quiet, Ethan. Lost for words?"
I didn't respond. My body was too battered, my spirit too drained. But that fleeting thought—the memory of Arthas—refused to fade.
'If only I could go back... If only I could fight like I did as Arthas... None of you bastards would be able to touch me.'
My vision darkened as another kick landed, and the voices around me grew distant, muffled. My mind clung desperately to that memory, that fleeting hope.
'Please... let me go back.'
And then, just as consciousness began to slip away, I felt it—a faint spark, deep within me. A warmth I hadn't felt since leaving that other world.