On a mist-covered mountain peak, a lone figure sat cross-legged, silent as stone. The thick purple fog surrounding him pulsed with strange energy, slowly swirling inwards until it vanished into his body. The mountain hushed.
The man stood, tall and composed. Late thirties by appearance, with streaks of experience etched into his otherwise youthful features. He looked to the sky, eyes filled with longing and quiet rage.
"It's been a month and a half. I've already reached the late stage of this technique... and yet it's still not enough."
He dropped the ancient manual from his hand and began ascending toward the highest ridge. With each step, his muttering grew louder, like an oath being carved into the air itself.
"I want more. I want to conquer, to understand, to escape. This world… it's not a cradle. It's a cage."
As he reached the summit, the wind howled, and his voice rose to meet the heavens.
"Do you hear me? I will not remain chained here forever. I'll rise beyond your stars, see the worlds you hide. Conquer the very laws you've built."
Lightning crackled across the gathering clouds. His words—half declaration, half defiance—shook something far beyond mortal comprehension.
"I will fulfill the dream all men carry but dare not speak. All beneath me. None above."
The words repeated like a mantra. The sky responded.
A deafening roar tore through the atmosphere as space itself cracked open. A swirling rift appeared, darkness pouring from its center, as if the void had blinked.
The man's name was Joe. And in that moment, he smiled.
"If this is the consequence, so be it."
The wind surged. A pull, sharp and irresistible, gripped him. Before he could react, he was drawn into the portal, swallowed by the unknown. The storm faded, the mountain fell quiet again—scarred by what had just occurred.
* * *
It was daytime. Sunlight streamed through the wide windows of an ornate room. A boy lay on a plush bed, his face pale, drenched in cold sweat. Beside him, a graceful woman sat, touching his forehead with calm concern.
"The fever's finally broken," she said, more to herself than to the others. "I can't explain it, but… something's changed."
A tall man stepped forward—broad-shouldered, dressed in noble garb. The Duke of the House. "Lady Darcia, we're indebted to you for arriving so swiftly."
The healer rose, bowing slightly. "No need for that. But I suggest you send him to me in a few days. His recovery might need closer monitoring."
The Duke nodded, and the two left the chamber, their footsteps fading.
Two more women remained—family members by their attire. One, with teary eyes, knelt by the boy and kissed his cheek.
"Wake up soon, my baby. You've been through too much already."
She rose and left in silence. But the last visitor lingered.
A teenage girl with sharp features and stiff posture watched the boy closely. Her expression twisted.
"How… how did you survive? That poison should have worked."
She clenched her fists.
"You left me no choice. If I want to marry into this house and keep my claim to the throne, I had to follow through. You forced this on me."
She turned and walked out, unaware that the boy's fingers twitched beneath the sheets.
The boy's eyes snapped open.
They were deep blue—like the ocean during a storm. He sat up slowly, sweat drying on his skin, and touched his forehead.
"This body… isn't mine."
He stood and walked unsteadily to the window, gazing out at the distant figure of Lady Darcia's carriage leaving the estate.
"She's no ordinary healer. That woman knew the poison was still in my system… and left it there."
A thin smirk crossed his lips.
"But I'm not Travis Sean anymore."
He looked at his hands, flexing each finger.
"I'm Joe. And this world just became far more interesting."
Memories surged into him—fragmented pieces of Travis's life. The Duke's only son. Born into privilege, yet physically frail. Coddled by a household of nobles, barely given responsibilities, and always in the shadow of stronger heirs.
Joe frowned.
"Too spoiled. Too loud. And too many enemies for someone so young."
He turned back toward the room and stretched, adjusting to his new vessel.
"Still... the foundation isn't bad. The bloodline, the influence, the resources... if I play this right, I won't need to start from scratch."
His thoughts flickered to the girl who had whispered threats at his bedside.
"Poisoning a six-year-old to secure her path to the throne. This world's politics are no less ruthless than my last one."
He chuckled, then stopped.
"But that's fine. I didn't come here for peace. I came here to rise again."
Joe closed the window gently, letting the light fade behind him.
"Let's see what this world has to offer... and what happens when someone like me decides to rewrite its rules."
And thus, the story of a man who had defied the heavens once, began anew—in the body of a noble child, in a world called Edhas. With ambition in his heart, poison in his veins, and danger waiting at every corner.
He had only just arrived.
But already, the world had shifted.