There was no pain. No body. No sense of self.
Only the Cycle.
A great, infinite flow of energy, a river of souls stretching beyond time, beyond galaxies, beyond the limitations of mortal comprehension. Millions—billions—of souls drifted through its currents, each one bound to the eternal loop of death and rebirth. Some were carried gently into new lives, while others were pulled deeper, lost in the endless cycle.
But one soul—one fragment of existence—was caught.
It did not follow the natural path.
A force, something beyond the Cycle itself, reached in and plucked it out.
And then, there was a voice.
Cold. Calculating. Absolute.
"This one. He will do."
And just like that, the soul was ripped away from its destined reincarnation, thrown into something new.
A system beyond natural rebirth.
A chosen cycle.
A designed fate.
There was no pain. No fire. No suffocating weight of debris crushing his body.
Just silence.
And then—awareness.
William's mind stirred, yet his body did not exist. He was nowhere and everywhere, floating in a vast, endless void. Darkness stretched infinitely in all directions, but it was not cold. It was not empty. It pulsed, as though it were alive, as though something—someone—was watching.
A presence.
Ancient. Immense. Overwhelming.
William wanted to speak, but he had no mouth. He wanted to move, but he had no form. Yet, as if sensing his thoughts, the void rippled.
Then, a voice spoke.
Deep. Resounding. Absolute.
"William Carter. Your existence was meant to fade. And yet, I have pulled you from the cycle of reincarnation."
The words carried weight beyond comprehension. William did not understand how, but he knew—this being was not a god. It was something beyond gods, beyond mortals, beyond the very fabric of reality itself.
"Do you know why?" the voice asked.
William's thoughts spun. He was dead. He had died. And yet, he was here, wherever here was. The weight of the situation settled over him.
"No," he admitted, his voice forming not in sound, but in thought.
The void shifted.
And then he saw.
Visions flickered before him—worlds torn apart, empires crumbling, shadows devouring the sky. Blood soaked the land, and screams filled the heavens.
A war. No—a calamity.
"A storm is coming, one that threatens the very foundation of existence," the being intoned. "The balance of power must be maintained, but the scales tip toward ruin."
The images stopped. The void returned to silence.
"You will be my instrument."
William felt something stir inside him. A purpose. A weight heavier than anything he had ever carried in life.
"Why me?" he asked.
The being did not answer immediately. And when it did, the response was simple:
"Because you were nothing. Because your fate was insignificant. And because now, you will rise."
A pulse of energy surged through the void.
"Live again, William Carter. But remember—your path is not your own. You have a mission. Whether you accept it or not, fate will find you."
The darkness collapsed.
The first thing William felt was warmth. Not the searing heat of flames, but something comforting.
Soft voices. A distant, rhythmic sound—a heartbeat.
Then, light. Blurred. Unfocused. His body—small, weak, unfamiliar. His mind raced, memories jumbled between who he was and what he was becoming.
He was alive.
No longer William Carter. Someone else.
A baby's wail tore from his throat, and the voices around him reacted instantly. A woman—his mother—cradled him close, whispering words he did not yet understand. A man—his father—stood beside her, pride and exhaustion in his eyes.
Through his infant haze, realization settled in.
He had been reborn.
And he was not alone.
"What will you name him dear?" His father asked.
"We decided on Leona if it was a girl and Leon if he was a boy." The woman said looking at he husband.
"Leon, Leon Varian." The father said, stroking the child's forehead. "I feel you'll be destined for great things my son, many great things."
Leon stopped crying as soon as the taste of milk flowed into his mouth and he begun to suckle his mother's breast drinking to his fill.
The couple watched on with a smile as he soon finished drinking and fell into a deep slumber.
The first five months of Leon Varian's new life passed in a blur of lights, sounds, and strange sensations.
At first, he was consumed by the simple struggles of infancy—the helplessness of a newborn, the frustration of being trapped in a weak, undeveloped body. But even as his tiny form lay cradled in his mother's arms, his mind remained his own. Memories of his past life lurked in the depths of his consciousness, scattered and unclear at first, but growing sharper with each passing day.
And then, understanding came.
The moment his eyes focused properly, taking in the sleek, metallic architecture surrounding him, the hovering drones silently patrolling his home, the distant hum of quantum networks pulsing through the air—he knew.
This wasn't just any futuristic world.
It was The Eternal Dominion.
A novel. A massive novel. Over 5,000 chapters long. A universe so sprawling, so intricately built, that only the most dedicated readers stuck with it to the end.
And he had been reborn in it.
The realization struck him like a plasma bolt to the chest.
He wasn't just reborn in The Eternal Dominion—he had been reborn as Leon Varian, a name he recognized all too well. A minor villain in the first 100 chapters. Not even a significant one.
A stepping stone.
"For fucks sake! Off all novels, I had to be reincarnated into the most dangerous one." He complained inwardly. " And as a minor villain not worth a 100 chapters."
In the grand narrative of The Eternal Dominion, there were multiple protagonists, each rising from different backgrounds—the supreme families, the lesser families, the guilds and some many others. Some were chosen by fate, others clawed their way to the top through sheer determination.
It wasn't that either the world or realm if you would call it spanned billions of light years and filled with multiple races and humanity was split into three factions. A Sci-fi society, medieval society and a wuxia society each with it's own protagonists, antagonists, and multiple heroines and villainess, not just the human race either other races as well had it's own children of destiny.
Leon Varian? He was none of them.
His role in the novel had been brief, appearing in the mid-level conflicts of the story's early arcs. Born into one of the lesser families serving one of the Supreme families, he had been talented but arrogant, a privileged young man with enough skills to be considered dangerous but not enough to truly change the course of history.
And like many before him, he had crossed paths with one of the protagonists.
In the original story, Leon had gotten involved in a disastrous power struggle between two opposing factions. He had schemed, underestimated his enemies, and when the moment came—he had lost. A humiliating downfall, cast aside, killed and forgotten within a hundred chapters.
That was supposed to be his fate.
"This is insane."
He took slow, steady breaths, forcing himself to think rationally.
"Okay. Think. Think! This is bad, but it's not the end."
He wasn't doomed yet. He still had time.
Time to change. Time to prepare.
He wasn't some arrogant fool who would rush blindly into conflict. He knew how this world worked. He knew how the factions moved, how the power struggles played out.
And more than that—he knew what was coming.
The numerous wars that will happen. The rise of the protagonists. The fall of countless noble houses, extinction of some races and the final war that had been foreshadowed but never got to finish.
He had been thrown into a battlefield where only the strongest survived.
And he would not be a casualty.
He would not follow the script.
Leon lay still in his crib, his infant body weak but his mind burning with new determination.
This wasn't just a second chance at life.
This was a game of survival.
He would not become a mere stepping stone.
If fate had thrown him into this world, into this grand cosmic battlefield of supreme families, guilds, mercenaries, overlords, and planet-shattering wars—then he would rise.
Not as a pawn. Not as a disposable villain.
But as something greater.
Leon Varian would rewrite his fate and take his place among the great one's.
That will all be in the future, but now, now it was time to sleep. It seems the influx of memories overloaded his developing brain, quickly putting him to sleep.
"Oh well -Yawn- I'll think about it next time." He thought falling asleep.
His mother who was close by saw him sleep and gently covered him with a blanket and begun to hum a tune in the quiet room. Making sure he drifted off to a peaceful dream.
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