Chapter: Judged by a Ten-Year-Old
First Person – Oliver Reed
Ugh… why does she look like that?
Seriously—those freckles like someone went crazy with a cinnamon shaker, and that big smug face like she owns the world. Red hair tied so tight it looks like her brain's holding its breath. And she's calling me ugly?
> She should look in a mirror before throwing shade.
I didn't say it out loud, of course. I just stood there like a statue, letting her poke my cheek like I'm some helpless toddler. But inside?
> I'm roasting her.
This little preteen drama queen has no idea I used to drive myself to gas stations at 2 a.m. to buy off-brand Nyquil and debate if I was depressed or just lazy. She's still in her "elemental magic is cool" phase like it's a game.
No, Lyra. I'm not some cute baby brother you can push around.
I've seen real life.
I've seen job applications that vanished into the void.
I've seen rent due with $3.18 in my account.
I've watched season 2 of Tower of God fall off a cliff.
And now I'm here.
In a 6-year-old body.
Getting insulted by a water-wielding ten-year-old goblin girl.
> Great. Just great.
But I stay quiet.
Why?
Because I'm playing the long game.
Let her think I'm a mute little runt. Let her get cocky.
When I figure out how to use Vita—really use it—
she won't see it coming.
----
Chapter: Lyra's House, Lyra's Rules
First Person – Oliver Reed
Okay, now she's touching my face?
Lyra grabbed me by the chin like some tiny drill sergeant trying to assert dominance over a confused toddler. I let her do it—only because jerking away would break my "silent observation" mode. But trust me, the urge to roll my eyes into the next dimension was strong.
> "Listen up," she said, like she was a queen addressing a servant.
"I made the rules in this house. I'm the older sibling, I'm the superior water user, and I don't have time to babysit crybabies. So don't mess with my stuff, don't talk too much, and stay out of my room."
I blinked.
Not because I was confused.
But because I was imagining a bucket of ice water "accidentally" falling on her later. From the ceiling. Twice.
She got closer and smirked—God, that smirk.
> "You probably don't even understand Vita. Let me educate you."
She raised one smug little finger like she was a genius giving a TED Talk for kids.
> "Two hydrogen," she said with dramatic flair, "plus one oxygen… equals water."
She looked at me like she just dropped the secrets of the universe.
Girl.
I passed 10th-grade chemistry in 2013 while eating nachos during a substitute lecture. I don't need this.
> Wow, thank you, Lyra. I totally didn't know the molecular structure of the one thing I used to drink while crying about college loans.
Still, I stayed quiet.
Just stared at her. Unmoving. Unimpressed.
Like I was watching a child pretending to be a CEO with a plastic briefcase.
Because that's what she was.
A loud, overconfident ten-year-old who thought her Vita tricks made her invincible. And maybe they did.
> For now.
But I've got something she doesn't.
Twenty-eight years of pent-up frustration, poor life decisions, and a fresh cosmic reset.
And I'm just getting started.
----
Chapter: New World, New House, New Start
First Person – Oliver Reed
After Queen Lyra dismissed me like some peasant in her water kingdom, I took a breath, turned away, and started wandering the house a little.
Slow steps. Tiny legs.
But my eyes were sharp.
The place was... pretty nice, honestly.
Modern architecture with a twist of fantasy. Wood floors that had that fresh polish glow, but the grain shimmered faintly like it was grown from Vita-touched trees. The walls were light gray-blue, calming and spacious. Big windows let the sunlight in, filtered by flowing, semi-transparent blinds.
I passed a floating painting—some glowing coastal city with a sky full of stars. A staircase spiraled up, not with harsh corners, but curved like a ribbon, elegant and subtle.
> This wasn't what I expected from a world where turtles shoot oceans at you.
Then I saw Liam outside through the tall glass door, crouched down in the yard. And next to him?
A dog.
Big. Golden fur. Not yellow—actual gold fur, like sunlight weaved into its coat. It stood proudly next to him, tail flicking in slow rhythm. Calm. Powerful. Watching everything.
Liam gave it a pat and tossed something into the grass. The dog bounded forward—effortless, graceful.
> A Vita-touched breed? Or just a really cool dog?
I kept watching.
---
And then it hit me.
This is my life now.
Not in a simulation.
Not in a game.
Not in another dream I'll wake up from with chip crumbs on my chest.
This is real.
A peaceful home.
Parents who seem to care.
A golden dog in the yard.
Magic—real magic—flowing in the air.
> This wasn't supposed to happen to me.
I was supposed to waste away in a bedroom with a broken fan and existential dread on loop.
But now?
Now I had a second chance.
And for the first time in years, I didn't feel numb.
I felt... hopeful.
Confused, sure.
Nervous, definitely.
But under all that?
Hope.
> Maybe this new life isn't just a reset.
Maybe it's a rewrite.
----
Chapter: A New Name, A Lighter Self
First Person – Oliver Woods
I woke up slowly.
Soft light crept through the curtains, a warm pink hue glowing against the blue walls. For a moment, I forgot where I was. My brain still had that weird half-dream haze, expecting the heavy ceiling fan above my old bedroom, the cold AC hum, the unfinished plate of microwaved garbage on my nightstand.
But that wasn't here.
This room was… clean. Big. Mine.
I sat up in bed.
No creaking. No groaning. No struggling just to breathe.
And that's when it hit me again.
There was no weight pulling me down. No pressure in my chest, no pain in my knees, no aching back from a body I let rot for years.
> I feel... free.
I swung my legs out of bed. Light. Fast. Like I could jump ten feet and still stick the landing.
Then I remembered something else.
My name.
> Oliver Reed.
Except… not anymore.
I blinked, staring at my little hands.
No. That name's already fading.
It's Oliver Woods now.
Like Liam Woods.
Martha Woods.
Lyra Woods.
This isn't just some borrowed life anymore—I've been folded into it. Adopted? Technically, yeah. But in this world, no one sees me as some random kid who showed up out of nowhere.
I'm part of the family.
I'm their son.
> It feels strange to let go of "Reed."
That name was mine through all the hard years. All the mistakes.
But maybe... that name belonged to someone who already finished his story.
And this new one?
Oliver Woods…
He's just getting started.
I hopped off the bed and stood on the floor like a brand-new person. My bare feet barely made a sound.
> No restraints. No limits. No gravity dragging me down.
Just freedom.
And a world full of possibilities.