The cold, unyielding darkness of space pressed against the shattered viewport, a reminder of the void's indifference to the struggles of men. Inside the drifting spacecraft, a single figure moved with purpose, his every motion calculated and precise.
Dr. Elias Thorn was a man of many talents—a genius, some would say, whose name echoed in the halls of scientific inquiry. He was the architect of countless breakthroughs, a mind so sharp it seemed almost unnatural. Yet here he was, floating alone in the heart of an unknown galaxy, his brilliance reduced to a desperate attempt to stave off the inevitable.
The ship's systems had failed hours ago. Communications were down, engines silent. Life support was hanging by a thread, and that thread was fraying fast. Elias had done everything he could, rerouted power, bypassed circuits, even considered the unthinkable—a manual restart of the reactor. But it was all in vain. The ship was dead, and he knew it.
As he floated weightlessly, his eyes scanned the control panels one last time. It was a habit, a need to confirm, to reassure himself that he had left no stone unturned. The truth was, he had known the moment it happened that there was no escape, no salvation to be found in the cold metal husk that had been his home for the last year.
He sighed, a sound that was lost in the void, and closed his eyes. Perhaps, he thought, there was some comfort in knowing that even the brightest minds could falter, that even he was not immune to the whims of fate. He had always imagined his end would come in a blaze of glory—a final, brilliant flash as he solved the universe's last great mystery. But this… this was quiet, peaceful even.
His thoughts began to drift, to wander to places long forgotten. Memories of childhood, of a time when the world was simple and his mind was not yet burdened with the weight of knowledge. He remembered the first time he looked up at the stars, the wonder and the awe that had filled him. And now, here he was, among those very stars, and all he felt was a deep, abiding sadness.
The cold began to seep in, a numbing chill that started at his fingertips and slowly worked its way inward. He knew what it meant. Hypoxia, the gradual loss of oxygen. Soon he would lose consciousness, and then… then it would be over.
As the darkness closed in, Elias Thorn's last thought was of the stars, and how, in the end, they had claimed him as their own.
He was reborn.
Not in the cold, unfeeling metal of his spacecraft, but in a soft, warm place. He could feel the gentle embrace of something he didn't understand. He heard muffled sounds, felt warmth and movement. The sharp brilliance of his mind was gone, his thoughts muddled. He was small, weak, dependent.
A bright light blinded him as he was brought into the world, the sounds suddenly clearer—voices, loud and unfamiliar.
"He's here!" cried a woman's voice announced, filled with reverence.
Coeus—no, he was no longer Dr. Elias Thorn, he knew that instinctively. He was someone else now. As his eyes adjusted, he could barely make out the figures around him. He was in a castle, or so it seemed, surrounded by people dressed in ornate robes and armor. His body was so small, so new.oice, filled with exhaustion but also relief.
"You have a son, my king," another voice announced, filled with reverence.
Through blurry vision, Coeus saw a towering man approach. The man's gaze was intense, his expression unreadable, but he reached down and gently cradled the baby—Coeus—in his arms.
"Welcome, my son," the man said softly. "You are Coeus Valdrik Thalionson Ravenmark, prince of the Veilshroud Dominion, eleventh-born of King Thalion Drevik Ravenmark."
The words rang in his infant ears, unfamiliar yet strangely fitting. He had been reborn, not just as any child, but as the son of a king, in a world where magic and ancient power flowed through the very air.
Though his newborn mind could barely hold onto the memories of his past life, a spark remained. He still knew what he once was, the knowledge of a scientist from a different universe. And as he looked up at his father—the king—his infant mind already began to plan.
He would live again, and this world, with its magic and kingdoms, would become his to shape. Technology, science—everything he had learned from his previous life—would merge with this world's power in ways they couldn't imagine.
And this time, nothing would stop him.