The last thing I felt was the cold, hard glint in my twin brother's eyes. Then, nothing.
I woke with the bite of hunger gnawing at my insides, the taste of dirt thick on my tongue. For a moment, confusion clouded my thoughts—fleeting images of a grand throne room, the weight of the Mythical Cards heavy in my palm, and the deafening roar of victory. But now, nothing remained. The stench of refuse was thick in the air, the sounds of my brother's ragged breathing beside me. The only warmth came from the thin blanket covering our bodies, the only security the ache in my chest, a bitter reminder that it was a betrayal by the two people I had foolishly called family that had cast me into this new, empty world.
My brother. The boy who would one day plunge a blade into my back.
It was impossible to not feel that cold rage, a silent promise of what would come. I was a king. Once, I had crushed monsters beneath my heel, my fingers clutching the Top Mythical Card, the ultimate prize in a world built on the backs of magic and power. But none of that mattered anymore. Here, I was nothing but a boy in a nameless slum, my power and titles ripped from me, swept away by the whims of fate and the jealousy of those closest to me.
The cards had betrayed me. My own brother, driven by envy since we were children, and my wife—a viper wrapped in silken lies—had conspired to steal my power. They wanted the Mythical Cards, every single one except for the last—the ? card. It was a secret I had discovered in my dying breath, a truth so simple yet so profound. The card's power wasn't in its name or its rank—it was in its ability to turn back time. And it had worked. I had been reborn, thrust back into a world I thought I had conquered.
Now, all I had was this broken body, the echo of a king who once commanded legions. The stench of decay lingered in the streets outside, and the cold fingers of hunger wrapped themselves tighter around me with every passing second. My gauntlet, the worthless Common Gauntlet I once discarded, was now my most prized possession. It seemed a cruel joke. In my previous life, I had fought tooth and nail for every rare card, for every piece of power. But now, I had a new plan.
I stood, careful not to wake my twin. He would never be able to see my intentions—not yet. His breath came in shallow, desperate gasps, his small form curled beneath the thin blanket. He had no idea what had been set in motion. In the end, he would serve as nothing but a pawn in my game. His pain, his jealousy, his very existence would become the fuel for the fire that would burn the world again. And I, Caelor Vey Talvaren, would be the one to build it.
The world outside the alleyway was already waking, the din of misery filling the air as I made my way toward the crowded streets. Vendors hawked their meager wares, hunters prepared for the daily grind, and children scurried about, their hollow eyes a reflection of lives spent under the oppressive weight of the cards. I had been one of them once—an orphan, a nobody. But now I was more. I could feel it in the weight of the gauntlet on my wrist.
The Common Gauntlet—once dismissed by every hunter, every card collector—held the key to my return. No one had bothered to understand its true potential, and that was their mistake. This gauntlet, when used properly, could unlock abilities far greater than any Legendary or Epic card. A secret hidden in plain sight, and it was mine to wield.
I knew where to go. The black market was the only place where such worthless cards could be found. The lowly, discarded cards—considered trash by the powerful and rich—were exactly what I needed. The street was crowded, the smells of food, waste, and smoke mixing into a nauseating blend. But there, in the heart of it, I found my target.
A hunched, ragged hunter sat beneath a tattered canopy, his stall stacked high with piles of cheap cards. They were a joke, discarded by the rich for their inability to summon monsters of true power. I could see the disinterest in the eyes of the passersby, the dismissive sneers as they ignored the stall. It was perfect.
The old hunter grunted as I approached. "What do you want, boy?"
I pointed to the stack of worthless cards at the bottom. "These. How much for all of them?"
The man eyed me, perhaps judging my worth, but I didn't care. His gold wasn't my interest—these cards were. He gave a half-hearted wave. "Fifty coppers. Take them or leave it."
I didn't haggle. I placed the coins on the table and accepted the bundle of cards from his calloused hands. It wasn't much—nothing compared to the riches I once controlled—but it was enough. Enough to take the first step.
Walking into a shadowed alley, I examined the cards. Swiftfoot Beetle, Firefly Spark, and Grumbling Golem. To any other hunter, these would have been discarded, worthless. But to me? They were the first ingredients in a deadly secret, an old recipe rediscovered. I placed them in my gauntlet, one by one, starting with the Swiftfoot Beetle.
The gauntlet hummed, a faint pulse running through it, and I added the Firefly Spark. The artifact's hum grew stronger. Finally, the Golem card. And then—nothing.
But then, as the cards settled into their designated slots, the gauntlet flared to life. A surge of golden energy coursed through my body, the power of the cards fusing with the gauntlet's dormant abilities. It wasn't an attack, but something far more dangerous—an ability to absorb essence, to take the power of a monster and make it mine. It was an ability that should have been impossible. But here it was, ready for me to use.
I grinned to myself, feeling the weight of the power coursing through my veins. The world was still oblivious, still caught in their petty games, their struggles for power. But I knew the truth. They were all pawns, blind to the greater game. And this time, I would be the one to control the board.
I turned and made my way back through the slums. My twin would wake soon, no doubt looking for me. But he wouldn't find me—the monster who had once shared my blood, the one who would one day turn on me. Not yet. Not until I was ready.
I could already see it in my mind—the path I would take. The power I would claim. The betrayal I would exact. This was only the beginning, the first step in a plan that would reclaim my throne. And when I did, I would have no one to thank but myself.
The game had begun anew. But this time, I would play it on my terms.
I would rise again, and when I did, no one—not even my brother—would stop me.
End of Chapter 1