Leon had always considered himself an average guy.
Not particularly lucky, not particularly unlucky.
Just… normal as any normal human should be.
Until, of course, he died like an idiot.
It all started with a power outage.
A stupid, random power outage in his crummy little apartment.
His phone was at 3%, his food was half-cooked in the microwave, and the Wi-Fi — his precious, sacred Wi-Fi — was gone.
The landlord, a fossil of a man who thought technology was witchcraft, had "accidentally" messed with the breaker again.
So Leon, in his infinite wisdom, decided to fix it himself.
He didn't know much about electrical wiring, but he figured, "How hard can it be?"
He grabbed a screwdriver, opened the switchboard, and —
ZZZZZZT!
His body locked up. His vision exploded into white.
Every muscle in his body convulsed, and for a brief, horrifying moment, he realized he had made a very bad decision.
Then — nothing.
Just cold, endless nothing.
——
"Hey. Hey! The heroes are coming!"
Leon's eyes snapped open, his breath catching in his throat.
He was standing.
No searing pain, no fried body lying on a cheap apartment floor.
He was just… standing, as if nothing had happened.
The first thing he noticed was armor.
Heavy, slightly dented armor strapped to his body.
His hands, no longer familiar, were calloused and strong.
His legs, wrapped in leather greaves, felt too sturdy to belong to a guy who spent most of his life sitting at a desk.
The second thing he noticed?
The people around him.
A group of warriors, mages, and knights stood at attention, gazes locked on a grand marble staircase ahead.
Their faces were tense, awestruck, like they were witnessing history unfold.
And then it hit him.
This wasn't some fever dream. This was —
"No way," he muttered. "This is… 'The Apocalypse Chronicles'?"
He knew this world. He had read this damn story and Manhwa too just to be sure!
Leon wasn't just in another world — he had reincarnated into a novel.
A novel where humanity fought against the monstrous creatures of the Apocalypse.
A novel where four heroes from another world were summoned to lead the resistance.
And the worst part?
He knew exactly who he was.
Zayn Eldrake.
A low-ranking swordsman in the Hero of Light's party.
A background extra. Cannon fodder.
In the original story, Zayn died barely a month in, getting torn apart by monsters while Cedric, the Hero of Light, was busy monologuing about justice or whatever.
Leon — no, Zayn — felt sweat bead on his forehead.
This was bad.
Before he could fully process his situation, a loud, commanding voice rang out:
"Behold! The chosen ones!"
Every soldier, including Zayn, turned to face the grand staircase.
At the top, bathed in golden light, stood four figures.
The summoned heroes.
Leon… no, Zayn, knew them all.
At the center stood Cedric Alstein, the Hero of Light, a golden-haired bastard with a smile that could charm angels.
To his right was Ragnar Helstrom, the brute of a warrior with arms like tree trunks.
On the left was Eve Laurent, the shadowy assassin who trusted no one.
And at the farthest end was Tobias Faulkner, the Hero of Knowledge, his piercing eyes already scanning the crowd.
They looked… impressive.
Otherworldly.
Zayn, still reeling from his electrocution-to-reincarnation pipeline, could only stare.
"Shit."
A soldier next to him, a guy with a scar across his nose, gave him a sharp glance. "What?"
Zayn straightened. "Uh… I said… 'Shit, they're majestic'?"
The scarred guy snorted. "Damn right. The gods really gave us some legends this time."
Zayn barely held back a grimace. Yeah, legends who are going to get me killed.
In the original story, Cedric was too righteous for his own good, constantly jumping into battles without strategy.
Ragnar was a bloodthirsty maniac who fought anything that moved.
Eve was so paranoid that she might stab you just for looking at her wrong.
And Tobias? That guy was too smart for his own good — Zayn would have to be careful around him.
He had to survive.
That meant getting stronger and not dying like a disposable minion.
As the grand hall fell silent, a regal figure stepped forward — King Alden of Eldoria, ruler of the last great human kingdom.
He raised his hands, his voice carrying through the hall.
"Chosen ones! You have been summoned to lead us against the darkness that threatens to consume our world. Your fates are intertwined with ours. Will you stand and fight?"
The tension in the room was palpable.
Every soldier, knight, and noble awaited the heroes' response.
Cedric stepped forward, his golden aura flaring ever so slightly.
"We will fight."
The room erupted in cheers.
Zayn, meanwhile, was mentally screaming.
'Yeah, yeah, great speech, but what about me?!'