Luke's eyes snapped open, and his first thought was that he was dreaming. The last thing he remembered was the sterile, cold hospital room, the pain in his legs, and the slow failing of his heart. But now, everything felt... different.
Soft morning light streamed through a wooden window. The walls were made of thick, old stone, and the bed beneath him was simple—nothing like the hospital bed he had been confined to for over a year. Confused, he sat up and looked around.
Where am I?
Then he saw them—his legs.
Whole.
Healthy.
What the hell?
Luke yanked back the covers and stared in disbelief. No rods. No casts. No pain. No paralysis. Just his legs—real, functional legs.
He placed his feet on the floor and stood up slowly, his body shaking not from weakness but from shock. He took one step… then another. A slow grin crept across his face.
I can walk. I can move.
His heart pounded, not with failing beats, but with power. With life.
Around him, the small room looked like something out of a medieval fantasy. A wooden dresser. Rough-hewn shelves. A stone hearth still holding the warmth of last night's fire.
Then his eyes landed on something else—a sealed parchment on the bedside table.
Drawn by a feeling he couldn't explain, Luke walked over and picked it up. The seal was pressed with a symbol he immediately recognized—the emblem of the Battle Academy from The Prodigy of Dawn.
That's when the realization crashed down on him like a tidal wave.
No way… this can't be.
He tore open the seal with trembling hands and read the ornate script:
"Congratulations, Alucard. You have been selected to enroll in the Stardust Academy of Arenthor. Your potential has been acknowledged. Prepare for a future worthy of legends."
Alucard...
His new name.
Luke staggered back, gripping the edge of the table.
He wasn't just in some random fantasy world.
He was inside The Prodigy of Dawn, the very novel he had read countless times. The one that ended in tragedy. The one where the prodigy—gifted with light and wind attributes—wasted his power chasing women instead of stopping the Demon King. And because of that, the world fell. Everyone died.
That ending had haunted Luke, angered him. He remembered yelling at the pages, "You had everything—and you wasted it all!"
And now... he was here. In that very world. Not as the hero. Not even as a named side character.
An extra.
A forgotten nobody.
But Luke—now Alucard—grinned.
That was fine.
Because this time, he wasn't going to play by the script.
He would steal the protagonist's chances. Take his training. Claim his encounters. Rewrite the ending.
What will happen to the main plot if I do that?
He looked at his restored legs, the letter in his hand, the world beyond the wooden door.
I don't care.