A crimson orb floated weightlessly in an endless expanse of darkness, its glow faint but ominous against the void.
"Pathetic."
"Filthy worm."
"Ugly creature."
"Leech of the Maximus family."
"Foolish bastard."
These were just a few of the countless insults I had grown accustomed to.
My name is Gabriel Maximus, the youngest child of the illustrious Maximus family—sole proprietors of Pinnacle Investments and among the wealthiest people on the planet. But wealth and privilege had little meaning in my life. If I were to sum up my existence in a single word, it would be tragic.
I was born cursed—or so it felt—with albinism, asthma, and facial deformities. I still remember the first time I saw my reflection in the mirror. I was horrified. But not nearly as horrified as my family was. My parents and siblings recoiled from me as if I were some grotesque anomaly, an error in their otherwise perfect lives.
They shunned me.
I was homeschooled by a private tutor, my only genuine companionship provided by my grandmother—an outlier in the family, like me—who also had albinism.
I know what you're thinking: "Isn't albinism a recessive trait?"
Yes. Unlucky, isn't it? The odds were stacked against me—99.99% in favor of a life without it. But I was that cursed 0.01%. A statistical anomaly.
Some might say having crimson eyes made me unique, almost mystical. But when that uniqueness is accompanied by a face so disfigured it terrifies even its own owner, it feels less like a gift and more like a cruel joke.
I majored in ethical hacking—a digital refuge from the cruel reality I inhabited. Books, novels, shows—they became my escape. When you have no friends, no one to share your thoughts with, fictional worlds become your sanctuary.
At twenty, I died alone in my car. An asthma attack. I had forgotten my inhaler at home. No one to call. No one to come looking for me.
I died with regrets—too many to count. I had never truly lived.
"That's true. You really didn't enjoy anything."
The crimson orb vibrated violently as if resonating with the weight of my despair. Slowly, it began to shift, materializing into a humanoid silhouette—featureless, yet exuding an overwhelming presence.
"Do you want another chance?"
The voice echoed through the vast emptiness, reverberating not just around me but within me.
"Yes," I replied without hesitation.
"You have suffered greatly, child. I shall grant you two wishes and a gift. However, your wishes cannot defy the fundamental laws of the universe."
Silence followed—thick, almost suffocating.
After a pause, I spoke. "I want an adaptive body—a body capable of mastering any martial art, any sport, effortlessly evolving to its peak potential. For my second wish, I want an eidetic memory and a genius-level intellect, especially when it comes to computers."
Another moment of silence. Then, the voice responded:
"Unexpected… Most people ask for power beyond measure, for immortality, for control over others. But you… you ask for the tools to carve your own path. Very well. Your wishes are granted. Live well this time"
-------------------------
A luxurious hospital room bathed in sterile white light. The air was thick with anticipation. The cries of a woman in labor echoed against the pristine walls, her agony met with the calm efficiency of doctors and nurses attending to her every need.
"Push, ma'am, push! We can see the head!"
Minutes felt like hours, but eventually, the piercing cry of a newborn shattered the tension. A fragile life, fresh and new, had entered the world.
"Doctor, the child isn't opening his eyes," a nurse reported, her voice tinged with concern.
The medical team sprang into action, their faces tight with focus. A flashlight beamed into my tightly shut eyelids, probing for signs of life, of consciousness. Slowly, I opened my eyes.
Gasps filled the room.
Crimson. My eyes were a deep, unnatural red—like liquid rubies reflecting the sterile glow of the hospital lights. The medical staff stared, momentarily mesmerized, but quickly regained their composure. They exchanged hushed whispers, murmuring about possible genetic conditions.
Days passed--
I am now "five" days old. But within this fragile, newborn body, my mind remained untouched—fully aware, fully conscious. I had been reborn to the same parents: Lexi Maximus and Anthony Maximus. The very people who had once discarded me like an unwanted blemish.
For the past few days, I've been subjected to endless medical tests—blood samples, genetic screenings, neurological assessments. A laboratory specimen wrapped in soft blankets.
-------------------
"According to our tests, the child does have albinism," a doctor explained to Lexi and Anthony, flipping through a clipboard filled with medical jargon. "However, it appears to be a mutated version. It only affects his eye pigmentation. There are no health complications—no sensitivity issues, no risk of vision impairment, no systemic vulnerabilities."
Lexi barely looked up from her phone, disinterested, resuming her daily vlog as if nothing of importance had been said. Anthony didn't even bother staying; he answered a business call mid-conversation and left the room without a backward glance.
Outside the sterile confines of the hospital room, two children—my siblings—lingered near the glass window of the neonatal unit.
"Looks like we're getting a new sibling," muttered a black-haired girl, her tone devoid of emotion.
"Yeah," replied a brown-haired boy with equal indifference.
They spoke like the child was a new appliance delivered to the house—something to acknowledge briefly before moving on with their lives
--------------------
{Five Years Later – 2012}
"Come eat, Gaeb!"
The raspy yet warm voice of an elderly woman echoed through the grand halls of the Maximus estate. Her face bore the marks of time—deep wrinkles etched like stories upon her pale skin, her crimson eyes still vibrant despite the years.
"Coming!"
A child's voice responded, full of energy and innocence.
A boy with striking crimson eyes and a mop of unruly brown hair dashed toward the dining table. His features were delicate yet radiant, the kind that captured attention effortlessly. He was beautiful—almost ethereal—with a charm that seemed to glow even brighter under the soft morning light.
_______________
[Gabriel's POV]
Today is the day.
I've managed to get my hands on some advanced books on hacking—cybersecurity, algorithms, cryptography, the works. You're probably wondering how a five-year-old could pull that off. Well, it's simple. I'm the son of two of the wealthiest people on the planet. My allowance alone could fund someone's education, and in this life, I've learned to put every resource to good use.
Unlike my past life, my parents now show me a semblance of affection—perhaps because I turned out beautiful this time. Society tends to worship appearances, after all. But no matter how genuine their smiles or tender their gestures, I can't shake off the unease. The admiration in their eyes feels like echoes of the stares I used to endure—stares filled with pity, disgust, and condescension.
Still, this life isn't just a repeat of the last. I've noticed something extraordinary: this is an alternate world. There are gaps—subtle yet undeniable. In the realm of entertainment, for example, iconic series like Game of Thrones, Percy Jackson, and Harry Potter don't exist. Not a trace.
And that's when it hit me.
With my eidetic memory, I can recall those stories word for word. I could write them, claim them as my own, and reshape the literary landscape of this world. A small but thrilling ambition.
Beyond that, I plan to enroll in martial arts and fencing classes once I turn ten. Until then, my days will be filled with rigorous self-study—honing my hacking skills, learning, investing, and preparing for a life of true freedom.
Revenge? No, I have no interest in that. I didn't ask for a second chance to waste it chasing the ghosts of my past. I was given this life to live, to experience the beauty I was denied before.
Parties? Girls? Shallow indulgences? They hold no allure for me. Getting drunk, meaningless flings, fleeting connections—that's not living. That's distraction.
I find joy in exploring new places, breathing in the untouched beauty of nature, savoring new cuisines, and losing myself in the wonder of the world.
"What are you daydreaming about? Eat, Gaeb!"
Grandma's sharp voice snapped me from my thoughts.
________________
[Later, in Gabriel's Room]
My grandmother, Elizabeth Maximus, is the heart of my world. I live with her, tucked away from the cold grandeur of my parents' mansion. My older siblings—Elaena and Marcus—don't exactly like her.
But I know better.
Marcus, my older brother, eventually grew to love her—and the old me—in my previous life. He was the only one besides Grandma who ever saw me as something more than a mistake, more than an inconvenience. He gave me moments worth cherishing, fragments of happiness stitched into an otherwise bleak existence.
But his life… his life became tragic.
It unraveled because of a certain someone—a shadow I will ensure never crosses his path in this life. Not this time.
And then there's Elaena, my sister. The quintessential "mean girl"—beautiful, arrogant, drowning in superficial superiority. She treated life like a game, people like pawns. I don't harbor hatred for her, just indifference. Some people are too lost in themselves to notice the wreckage they leave behind.
But none of that matters now.
Tomorrow, my journey begins. A journey not of vengeance, but of liberation.
A life unchained.
------------------------
{January 1, 2014}
Posters of Star Wars adorned the walls of the spacious room, their vibrant colors contrasting with the muted, polished décor. Pictures of breathtaking landscapes hung neatly, capturing distant places that seemed worlds away from the sterile atmosphere within these walls, a Brown haired boy stood at the centre of the room
_______________
[Gabriel's POV]
Today is the day my "family" visits Grandma for New Year's.
Two sleek BMWs pulled up at the front gate of the Maximus estate. The engines purred to a halt, and four figures emerged, dressed in designer clothes, their expressions reflecting the same cold detachment they carried like second skin. They walked toward the main entrance with the kind of mechanical grace that wealth often breeds—polished on the surface, hollow within.
______________
{At the Dining Table}
The room was thick with tension, a stark contrast to the warmth and laughter that usually accompany family gatherings. Here, silence spoke louder than words, and when words were spoken, they were coated in thinly veiled indifference.
Anthony Maximus, my father, finally broke the silence.
"How's your health, Mother?" he asked, his voice flat, as if reading from a script he'd grown tired of performing.
"Alive," Elizabeth replied curtly, her tone colder than the polished silverware laid out before us.
Elizabeth was disappointed—disappointed in the man her son had become and in the grandchildren who mirrored his superficial values. Except for Gabriel. Perhaps Gabriel was her last thread of hope. They had all chased glamour and status, but Gabriel was different
Elizabeth often thought of Carlos Maximus, her late husband, a man grounded in principles, who valued people over possessions. He kept both his employees and his family close to his heart. Unlike him, Anthony was a man starved for attention, hollow at the core, and unsurprisingly, he married someone just like him—Lexi Maximus, self-centered and obsessed with appearances.
Their children turned out no different.
But then Gabriel was born.Gabriel reminded her of Carlos
Gabriel shared her condition, though his was less severe,for which she was thankful to god.
_______________
"Why do we have to come here every New Year? Can't we just go to a party?" Elaena complained, rolling her eyes dramatically as she picked at her food with disinterest.
"Who asked you to come?" I shot back, my voice calm, my words sharp enough to draw a glare from her.
She glared at me, her face twisted with irritation, but I remained undeterred, continuing to eat as if her existence was nothing more than background noise.
"You'll be starting school in two weeks," Lexi announced, her voice laced with a hint of excitement—not because she cared about my education, but because she was eager to parade her "beautiful" and "unique" son in front of the world. To her, I was an accessory, a living trophy with crimson eyes—a product of a condition she couldn't be bothered to understand. But as long as it made me "special" in the eyes of others, she was satisfied.
"Okay," I replied simply, hopping down from my chair with the help of one of the household staff. I made my way back to my room, eager to escape the suffocating charade.
---
[Gabriel's Room]
I sat at my study desk, engrossed in reading about different countries and their hidden tourist treasures. Maps and notes were scattered around, each detail a window to a world far removed from this suffocating legacy I was born into.
A knock on the door interrupted my focus.
"Come in," I called out, my eyes still skimming the pages.
Anthony stepped inside, his gaze sweeping across the room, lingering on the neatly arranged shelves filled with thick books on hacking, computer science, and a few scattered comics. His eyes were calculating, as always.
I stood up, walking over to where he stood, his presence filling the room like an unwanted shadow.
"I wanted to talk to you about your future," he said, his tone neutral but laced with curiosity.
I wasn't surprised. In the Maximus family, children weren't raised—they were groomed, shaped into competitors fighting for the ultimate prize: the title of successor. The family empire wasn't divided among heirs; only one was chosen. This conversation was Anthony's way of assessing whether I would be a contender against Marcus and Elaena or if I was content being just another branch on the family tree.
"If you're asking whether I'm interested in inheriting the company, I'm not," I replied bluntly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "I prefer computers over boardrooms."
My directness seemed to catch him off guard. He studied me for a moment, perhaps expecting hesitation, ambition, something. But there was nothing for him to dissect. I'd already made peace with who I was—and who I wasn't.
In my previous life, I had supported Marcus. He was the most suitable for the role, and I had no intention of stepping into that arena again. This time, I wanted peace, not power.
Anthony's gaze flickered toward my study desk, his interest piqued by the technical books neatly stacked alongside scribbled notes.
"Do you actually understand these?" he asked skeptically, picking up one of the thicker volumes.
"Yeah. It's interesting," I replied casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a seven-year-old to grasp complex algorithms.
A rare smile crept onto his face—not the cold, practiced smile he wore at business meetings, but something genuine. Or at least as genuine as Anthony Maximus could manage.
"Would you like to visit our cybersecurity headquarters tomorrow?" he asked, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and intrigue.
I nodded, flashing a wide smile that masked my true intentions.
After all, I had my own reasons for agreeing.
___________________