The last thing I remember is the sharp, searing pain that coursed through my body, an impact that left me breathless. I had always imagined death would come to me in some grand fashion, yet here i am my body betraying me after years of wear and tear.

The world, in all its chaos, took me without a moment's hesitation.

And then, nothing. A void.

No light. No warmth. No sound. Just silence.

It left me time to contemplate, rethink some of my life choices. My name was Marcus downwell, i had a good childhood my parents had a stable income, at least enough for me to be living well. I had friends i wasn't bullied or had it really hard, at least nothing really bad.

I finished school and started working at a good company, found a girlfriend and already planned for marriage.

But of course, at the young age of 24 while walking home from a long days of work, a truck hit me.

And here i am.

I couldn't say how long it lasted. Minutes? Days? Weeks? Time had no meaning in that endless space. Yet after what felt like eternity, the darkness seemed to slowly fade away.

I gasped, air rushing into my lungs. It felt like I hadn't breathed in forever. I blinked, my eyes opening slowly, my vision blurry at first. The first thing I registered was the softness beneath me. A bed? I was in a bed, but this wasn't the sterile white of a hospital room, the kind I had expected. The sheets were blue, dark blue, soft and thick, like something out of a luxury hotel.

"What the hell?" I muttered, my voice strangely unfamiliar. It was higher, softer than what I was used to. Not the deep, voice of a 24-year-old man, but the voice of a child.

I threw the sheets away, looking down at my child like body in horror i quickly jumped out of the massive bed.

I stood up too quickly, my feet barely catching beneath me as I stumbled, steadying myself against the massive bedframe. My head spun as I took in my surroundings. This wasn't the small, one-bedroom apartment I'd been living in. The room was vast, like something out of a palace, with high ceilings and ornate furniture that looked too grand for someone like me. There were blue curtains drawn over massive windows, and the soft glow of sunlight filtered through them, casting long shadows across the floor.

‚I am alive?' i thought. ,what the hell is this? Why am i a child?' i sat back down grabbing my head in confusion.

I suddenly noticed a mirror behind me ,what is this?' i thought as i looked at my reflection. What i saw was not a 24 year old, but what looked like a 14 year old child with blonde hair, blue eyes wearing absurdly expensive looking pjamas.

A rush of nausea hit me. "What… who…"

Then the memories came.

It was like a floodgate opening, a torrent of images and sensations crashing into me. My knees buckled, and I collapsed to the floor, clutching my head as fragments of a life that wasn't mine forced their way into my mind.

I was Alaric Sigmund Falkenrath, the newly crowned emperor of Ehrenhald. My father, Emperor Adalric Wulfrich Falkenrath, had died from an illness, leaving behind a grieving wife and four children. As the eldest and the heir, the weight of the empire now rested on my shoulders.

Suddenly i heard a knock on the wooden door next to the mirror

The knock startled me, dragging me out of my spiraling thoughts. Before I could answer, the door opened slightly, and a man stepped inside with careful precision.

His uniform ornate and formal, marked him as someone of importance. His eyes, a sharp gray, immediately locked on me, widening slightly in surprise.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing deeply, his voice steady but laced with the faintest trace of hesitation. "You're awake earlier than expected. The physicians advised rest after the coronation."

Coronation. The word hit me like a jolt. The fragmented memories of my… no, his life began to fall into place. I was Alaric Sigmund Falkenrath, crowned Emperor of Ehrenhald just hours ago. The boy's memories were crystal clear now, like a second life layered over my own.

"I feel fine," I said, though my voice betrayed a slight edge of confusion. It still felt strange to speak with this younger, lighter voice. "Just… tired."

The man straightened, studying me carefully. There was no fear in his gaze, only a quiet wariness, like a chess player assessing their opponent. "That's understandable, Your Majesty. It was a long day, and the weight of the empire is not easily borne."

I nodded, unsure how to respond. The sheer grandeur of the room, the opulence of my clothing, and the clarity of Alaric's memories all felt surreal.

Part of me, the part that was still Marcus wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Another part, the one that was Alaric, wanted to demand answers and assert control.