My name is Gin Deacon, I'm now 82 years old, and this is my life.
I was once a young teenager with dreams and aspirations. When I turned 18, all of that changed. I was summoned to this world of magic, dragons, elves, and more. It was like those isekai anime. I was summoned with three other people, and we were all expected to be great, yet I had no capacity for magic.
I wanted to prove my worth, get better, maybe get praise, but I fell short, and they cast me out of the castle.
I wanted to enter an adventurer's guild, only to find out that no such thing existed, at least not how it was in terms of stories.
My heart sank, but I decided to pull myself up by my bootstraps and deal with it.
My first year in the military was the worst. I thought fighting goblins would be easy, yet those goblins were half the size of humans and far stronger than the media portrayed them on Earth.
Many men and women of various species always died on the field, sometimes of their own action, but most of the time, I know it was my fault.
I was a coward who ran without trying. I wanted to be praised, yet I ran away, leaving many to die, including the people who taught me, humored me, and basically raised me.
I was a damned coward who did nothing to help others.
When I turned 32, the Calamity came, the moon turned red, and hundreds of monsters were becoming far more powerful than they should be. The cause seemed to be the heroes who grew exponentially powerful as it responded to great strength.
It was a slaughter, people died, soldiers fell, and the heroes desperately tried to save everyone, yet there was no hope. Hundreds of kingdoms and cities fell, and humanity was driven to a corner.
Thankfully, the Calamity ended, but the destruction was already dealt. Humanity lost.
Reconstruction was long, all the way until I reached 51, where I was now bestowing knowledge onto the new guys, young, optimistic, just like I was before.
I had gotten a long, stronger, finding myself a craftsman who could create me a silver sword capable of morphing itself.
It was perfect for me, allowing for great techniques to be developed, but all of that would be ruined and pointless when dragons started to become more aggressive.
It was unknown why, but they started to wreak destruction on the lands, destroying everything, as if the Calamity had never happened.
Another great destruction, and those same young men were killed. I failed again, incapable of saving anyone.
I turned 56 this year. Writing in this diary has allowed me to become numb to all the things that have happened to me so far. Killing has become second nature to me, but I'm always haunted by the spirits of those I failed to save.
At first, I thought I was hallucinating, but a priest told me I was being haunted by vengeful spirits, spirits that wanted me dead.
I couldn't blame them; I made promises I failed to keep. I ruined the futures I should have paved the path to.
Every day, I wanted to find a way to right my wrongs; I needed a solution to fix my sin.
I am now 82, and I finally found the answer, the key to correcting my sin. I need to travel to the past and grant my past self this sword, merging it with his body using the magic symbol imbued with mana liquid.
If I do that, my past self will become far stronger than anyone at that time, but it may be too much for my own body.
I trust my past self. I know I wasn't dumb, I'm sure I could understand the limitations of such power.
This is the end of this diary, the end of this future, so a new one can be made, a better future.
An old man with long white hair and soulless silver eyes closed the diary. Alone in a damp cabin with a single lit oil lamp, a window that allowed for the moonlight to enter through, and a dirty bed, unclean for years, and holding a large silver sword made completely of only silver with a talisman on the blade.
Getting up, he grabbed the sword and walked out the door with his long white cloak with a black collar, revealing vast deforestation in front of him, hundreds of monsters slowly approaching from the darkness.
"Goodbye." From his pocket, he took out a jewel that began to glow.
"I may not have the magic capacity, but with this jewel, I can commit to one spell without the need for capacity or flowers."
Slowly, a golden magic circle began to be created from below him. The terrifying monsters backed up, scared of the mystical light.
The circle got bigger and bigger until the entire forest was covered by this giant magic circle.
Magic comes from the imagination. Bring me to the past in this very spot! Allow me to correct my mistake!
As if sentient and responding to his desires, a golden torrent of light shot into the sky, sending waves of wind throughout the landscape. Reality began to distort, appearing as perception slogging from a screen.
Everything outside of the circle sagged until there was nothing but black, leaving only a pitch-black abyss.
Slowly, soldiers that were faint materialized, but he didn't focus on that; he only looked at a single tree stump.
Slowly, a soldier from where he was looking began to materialize as well.
"Finally, you are here." It had been revealed who was sitting at that tree, himself, but younger.
He reached out to his younger self and, touching his shoulder, both were mentally transported to a white void.
"Huh, HUH!? W-WHO ARE YOU!?"
Old Man Gin looked at his younger self, tears running down his face, his chance to fix his faults finally in front of him.
"Who are you!?" Young Gin asked, still scared.
"I am you from the future, who you will be if you do not follow instructions."
"W-What?" Young Gin was afraid, not believing the words of a crazy-looking old man.
Old Man Gin pointed his sword at his younger self. "Do you want power?"
"...What?"
"Power! Do you want power?"
Old Man Gin knew exactly the answer he would say, so at the same time as his younger self...
"YES!"
...Younger Gin was caught off guard by his future self-copying his answer.
"I know you want power; we both wanted power. I know what my past self-wanted. Now, you can obtain it; allow me to grant it to you."
Power, I can finally prove my worth! Young Gin thought, a smile manifesting on his face.
"Give it to me!" Without hesitation, Old Man Gin stabbed the blade into his younger self's chest, shocking him.
"Don't worry, it won't kill you. Take this power, keep your promises, and don't ruin the lives of others without selfish interests." Hearing those words caught Gin's attention. "Every time we try to forcefully prove our worth, we make things worse. Just obey orders and stop the calamity and dragons, please!" Old Man Gin said, tears streaming from his eyes.
"...I, I understand. I will trust you, future me."
"Thank you." The sword was absorbed into Young Gin's body, turning his entire body into Silver.
Old Man Gin slowly dematerialized.
"Where are you going!?" Young Gin asked, worried for his future counterpart.
"The past is being changed. The future will now be erased, and our consciousness will be one again. Unfortunately, the memories won't transfer, but that's fine, you will still have the memories of this moment. Do well and save everyone."
The future was erased, and the consciousness of two souls merged into one, not making him any different than what he was, but now, with this knowledge, Young Gin would take the advice of his future self, "Stop the Calamity".