The garden of the Verian estate stretched endlessly, blooming with flowers that shimmered under the morning sun. It wasn't just a garden; it was a battlefield of prestige, where the heirs of great clans first measured each other.
Today, it was filled with children.
Servants and guards lined the edges, their watchful eyes sharp as blades, but none interfered. This was a tradition among the three great clans and the Imperial Clan itself. The children—called the Seeds—would be gathered, placed together, and allowed to interact. Bonds would form, rivalries would spark, and the first impressions of destiny would be made.
I was there.
Atticus Verian. The extra. The mistake.
My twin, Razeal Verian, sat beside me in his cradle, calm as always. His eyes, too sharp for a child, scanned the world with hidden knowledge. The transmigrator's composure hadn't wavered once since the day I realized what he truly was.
Our older sister held my hand tightly, her warmth the only anchor against the suffocating aura of the other children.
Because even though we were all still young—barely toddlers—the blood of gods and monsters flowed in these veins.
---
The children gathered in a circle, some crawling, some already walking with unsteady yet proud steps. The heirs of the Xyren Clan, the Solari Clan, even a golden-eyed boy from the Imperial line.
It was supposed to be harmless. Just children meeting children. A chance for our clans to boast of their futures.
But then—
Something snapped.
One of the boys, small and dark-haired, suddenly trembled. His eyes rolled back, and a surge of power burst from him. A ripple, invisible yet undeniable, tore through the garden.
A cry went up from the watching elders, but none could step forward. This was the rule: the Seeds would stand on their own.
And the boy's power… was horrifying.
It wasn't fire or lightning. It was something far worse—a mental storm.
---
At first, I thought it was just pressure. My chest tightened, my breath caught. But then the world broke.
A knife slid across my throat.
I gasped—but then a spear pierced my heart.
I screamed—but fire swallowed me whole, flesh peeling from bone.
And when I thought it was over, water filled my lungs, choking me into silence.
Over and over. Death upon death. A cycle of torment that never ended.
It was as if the boy's uncontrolled power had reached into my very soul and shattered it, forcing me to experience death again and again.
Once. Twice. Ten times. A hundred. A thousand.
Every method, every agony. Burned. Crushed. Drowned. Torn apart. My mind collapsed under the weight, splintering into pieces.
---
Razeal gritted his teeth beside me, his small body trembling. I could feel it—his system was shielding him, protecting him from the worst of the storm. He would endure. He always would.
The other children whimpered, cried, some even fainted. But none of them felt what I did.
Because I wasn't supposed to exist.
I wasn't in the story.
And so fate, or the god obsessed with fate, chose me as the perfect victim.
---
Stop… please stop…
My pride, my stubbornness, all of it shattered with every death.
I don't want this. I don't want to die again. I've already died once—wasn't that enough?
The boy in the center screamed louder, his power spiraling further out of control. Servants tried to step forward, only to be blasted back by the unseen force. The elders shouted, their voices shaking the air, but none could intervene without breaking the ancient law.
And me?
I was nothing but a ragdoll in the storm.
A thousand deaths, each one worse than the last. My soul felt like it was tearing apart, thread by fragile thread. My chest heaved, my vision blurred, and my mind gave way.
---
The last thing I heard before darkness claimed me was the contempt in the whispers around the garden.
"The Verian twin… fainted?"
"So weak… how embarrassing."
"Not even worth being called a Seed."
My sister's voice broke, screaming my name. But I couldn't answer.
My body had already gone limp. My consciousness slipped into the abyss.
---
Darkness. Silence.
For a moment, I thought I had died again.
But then—
A chime.
Soft. Clear. Echoing in the void.
And before me, letters appeared. Blue light. A floating window, etched into the air itself.
> [Greetings, Atticus Verian.]
You were not meant to exist.
But fate has been defied.
System Initialization… Complete.
My breath caught.
A system.
Finally.
---