The scent of damp stone and rusted metal filled the narrow alley as Fenix stirred, every muscle in his body screaming from the night spent curled against the girl's fragile frame. The sounds of city life drifted from somewhere beyond the maze of broken buildings - angry shouts, cart wheels grinding over cracked stone, the distant clanging of iron bells marking the morning hours. But it all felt like it was happening in another world.
What demanded his immediate attention was the gnawing emptiness in his stomach.
Fenix blinked away the crusty sleep from his eyes and slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing as his back protested against the cold stone wall. Beside him, the little girl still slept peacefully, curled up like a kitten in her torn and dirty clothes. He still had no idea who she really was, but throughout the terrifying night, she had clung to him like a lifeline, whispering the same two words over and over in her sleep.
"Big brother."
It wasn't really his name - at least, it hadn't been before. But for her, it was everything. And somehow, hearing it made something warm flutter in his chest.
He rubbed his hands together, trying to bring feeling back to his numb fingers as the morning chill bit into his skin through his thin clothes.
Standing up slowly and moving as quietly as possible to avoid waking her, Fenix began to explore their makeshift shelter. As he looked around at the crumbling walls and piles of debris, a strange sense of familiarity washed over him.
This place... he'd never been here before, but somehow it felt like he had. Then, like a lightning bolt, it hit him. The stories Greg had read to him during those long prison visits - the webnovel about a fantasy world filled with magic and political intrigue. The setting he was looking at right now matched perfectly with one specific location Greg had described in great detail.
Grimhaven.
Grimhaven was supposed to be a district in Lunaris City, one of the territories that had once belonged to the powerful Ackerman family. According to the story, it used to be one of the most beautiful and prosperous areas in the entire province. But now it was nothing more than a shadow of its former glory, torn apart by civil war as smaller noble families fought each other like wild dogs over the scraps of what remained.
All that was left now were the forgotten places - the areas too worthless for even the lowest families to bother claiming. Only thugs and criminals ruled here, preying on anyone weak enough to be caught.
A terrible thought began to form in his mind.
"It can't be..." he muttered under his breath, frantically searching through the piles of rubble and garbage around him. There had to be something - anything - that could show him his reflection.
Finally, half-buried under a pile of broken bricks, he found a small pocket mirror with a cracked surface. His hands were actually shaking as he slowly lifted it to his face, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cold morning air.
What he saw in that broken mirror made his blood turn to ice.
White hair that fell like fresh snow, bound back in a high ponytail. Eyes that glowed like liquid fire - red as fresh blood and twice as bright. A face that looked like it had been carved from the finest marble by a master sculptor - flawless, cold, and hauntingly beautiful in a way that was almost inhuman.
He knew this face. He had heard Greg describe it dozens of times during their prison visits. It belonged to one of the most tragic characters in the entire story - a doomed young man whose family had been betrayed, stripped of their power, and ultimately destroyed.
While rotting in his cell, Fenix had actually felt sorry for this character. The betrayal, the fall from grace, watching helplessly as both he and his sister were murdered before their entire bloodline was wiped from existence. He had thought they were kindred spirits - two people abandoned by the world and left to die.
Now he was staring at the face of the person he had pitied.
Fenix Ackerman.
"I'm him," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "How is this possible? Was it Greg somehow? No, that's crazy. What do I even call this - reincarnation? Divine intervention? A really messed up dream?"
He stood there for several minutes, muttering confused questions to himself while staring at his reflection. When he had first realized he was still alive after his execution, he had been too focused on survival to really examine his appearance. But what he was looking at now defied all logic and reason.
After a few more minutes of panic, he forced himself to take a deep breath and think rationally.
*I can't lose my cool here,* he told himself firmly. *It doesn't matter how impossible this seems. I'm him now, whether I like it or not. I need to accept it and figure out how to move forward.*
He turned to look at the sleeping girl, and another piece of the puzzle clicked into place.
*She must be his sister - Abigail Ackerman. It can't be helped now. She's my sister, which means I have a responsibility to protect her no matter what happens.*
Abigail lay there on the thin mat they had found, looking surprisingly peaceful despite everything they had been through. Her hair was black as a raven's wing and seemed to shimmer like polished obsidian even in the dim light. Like her brother, she had the trademark Ackerman family eyes - those distinctive crimson pupils that shone like molten rubies. Even at her young age, it was clear she would grow up to be beautiful.
As he watched her sleep, Fenix suddenly felt a strange pressure building behind his eyes. It wasn't physical pain exactly - more like an invisible finger tapping insistently against the inside of his skull.
Then, without any warning, a translucent screen appeared in the air in front of him.
---
Compatibility: 61%
Stability: Fragile
Status: Extra (Unregistered Anomaly)
Survival Protocol: Instincts Active, Memory Fading
Notice: The world will not accept you. Adapt or be erased.
Generating Status Interface…
Before Fenix could even process what he was seeing, the screen flickered and changed, displaying new information in neat, glowing text.
---
Character Profile
Name: Fenix Ackerman
Age: 14
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Aura Core: Dormant
Rank: N/A
Attributes:
- Strength: 5
- Agility: 6
- Endurance: 6
- Intelligence: 10
Abilities:
Innate Skills:
Black Star - Locked: A unique Ackerman family trait that manifests as a collapsing black aura. It passively devours aura, mana, and spirit energy on contact, feeding the user's power. The trait activates instinctively in combat, enhancing speed, strength, and survival drive.
---
"What the hell is this?" Fenix muttered, instinctively jerking backward. The floating screen followed his movement, maintaining the same distance from his face like it was tethered to his vision.
He got no response from the mysterious interface.
Cautiously, he reached out and tried to touch the glowing text. His hand passed right through it without any resistance - the screen just flickered slightly, like ripples on a pond.
"Status Interface?" he repeated slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. "A system? Like in those video games?"
This was completely unexpected. He wasn't in his old world anymore - death had made sure of that - but he hadn't been prepared for anything like this. In all of Greg's stories about this world, no one had ever mentioned anything about floating screens or game-like interfaces. No gods had spoken to the characters. No mysterious powers had chosen them.
Yet here it was, hovering in front of him like it belonged there.
The realization hit him like a punch to the gut: he wasn't just some background character anymore. He was something even the world itself hadn't planned for - an anomaly that didn't fit into the natural order.
---
The rest of that day passed in a blur of desperate hunger. He and Abigail scoured the lower sections of the district - what the locals called the Gutterring, which had once been the proud district of Grimhaven. Now it was nothing more than a ring of slums that circled the outer walls of the great city of Lunaris like a festering wound.
Fenix learned quickly that this world operated on a simple principle: strength was everything. Powerful families controlled the upper rings of the city, living in luxury and comfort. Guards were few and far between in places like this. Everyone else? They were just meat waiting to be ground up and forgotten.
He and Abigail managed to steal a small loaf of bread from a distracted vendor's stall, then ran through winding alleys until their bare feet were bleeding and raw. They drank murky water from a cracked fountain that was half-choked with green moss and algae. When evening came, they huddled together under a broken stone bridge, trying to ignore the rats that scurried uncomfortably close to their makeshift bed.
That night, after Abigail had finally drifted off to sleep from pure exhaustion, Fenix sat up straight and focused his thoughts. Just like before, the glowing interface appeared at his mental command, casting its ethereal light across the bridge's stone underside.
"Dormant aura core..." he whispered to himself, reading the text again.
From what he remembered of Greg's stories, this world ran on various power systems based on aura, mana and spirit. In a broken, dangerous world like this one, having strength wasn't just about survival - it was about having any kind of identity or worth at all. Without power, you were nothing.
He pressed his palm flat against his chest, right over the spot where the interface indicated his 'aura core' should be. There was nothing there that he could feel - no warmth, no energy, no sign of hidden power.
But as he concentrated, something stirred deep inside him. Just a whisper of sensation, like a distant memory trying to surface. A breath of warmth that seemed to come from somewhere beyond his physical body.
Suddenly, words echoed in his mind - not his own thoughts, but something else entirely:
'To awaken the aura core, one must first find their Will.'
'Draw it out from the depths of your soul. Ignite it with your determination. Let it shroud your spirit in power. Then forge it into an unbreakable flame that will burn away all obstacles.'
Fenix's eyes widened as the mysterious voice faded back into silence. He looked down at his hands, then at his sleeping sister, then at the broken world surrounding them.
His Will? What did he want more than anything else?
The answer came to him immediately, crystal clear and burning bright:
'I will survive and I will protect her.'
As that thought crystallized in his mind, he felt something deep in his chest beginning to stir - like the first spark of a fire that would soon become an inferno.