The night sky above the Solarys Clan estate shimmered like molten glass. Three moons floated in alignment above the continent, each casting its own spectral glow across the landscape: silver, crimson, and teal. The people of the surrounding villages whispered in hushed tones, fearful yet mesmerized, for such an alignment was considered an omen — a signal of profound change. Prophets, when consulted, often spoke of a child born under these moons who would either elevate the world to greatness or burn it in ruin. None could have anticipated the reality.
Ren's first cries echoed through the vast hall of the Solarys Clan. Tiny and seemingly fragile, the newborn carried within him the weight of countless lifetimes. His father, a master swordsman known for both calm composure and devastating skill, cradled him with reverence. His mother, a mage of subtle yet immense power, watched over him with a mixture of awe and apprehension. She could not yet grasp the truth: the child in her arms had already walked through the fires of death three times over before drawing his first breath.
The Solarys Clan was no ordinary lineage. Generations of warriors, mages, and scholars had perfected the secretive ritual known as the Illusion of Awakening. Every child born into the clan was placed into an artificial reality, where decades of growth, hardship, and training could pass in mere days of real-world time. The purpose was to cultivate mastery — in martial arts, swordsmanship, and magic. Yet, when Ren's consciousness entered the illusion, fate fractured. Instead of a single reality, he was cast into three simultaneous illusions, each demanding different aspects of his mind, body, and spirit.
In the first illusion, the world burned beneath a crimson sky. Ren awoke as a fully grown warrior on a battlefield drenched in smoke and blood. Armies clashed with devastating force, blades and spells moving faster than the eye could follow. His body responded instinctively — every strike, every dodge, every feint executed with the precision of someone who had trained for decades.
Here, Ren learned the art of strategy. Victory was not about raw strength but about anticipating, manipulating, and controlling the flow of battle. Each enemy had a rhythm, a weakness, a hesitation to exploit. And yet, no victory came without consequence. The faces of those he killed, the lives he could not save, etched themselves into his mind, leaving scars sharper than any blade.
I didn't kill them on purpose… I never wanted to go this far. But I have to survive. The thought repeated like a mantra, steel to his resolve. If I falter, those I love will die.
The second illusion was a world of ethereal majesty: a floating citadel of infinite libraries and halls, classrooms suspended in midair, and corridors that twisted in impossible ways. Here, Ren's mind expanded faster than his body. He studied magic as though it were alive, manipulating mana threads like a conductor orchestrating symphonies of creation. The three moons' alignment affected his abilities differently: the silver moon strengthened illusions and mind-affecting spells, the crimson amplified destructive combat magic, and the teal whispered secrets of time, blood, and life-force manipulation.
He studied not only human magic but also the subtle energies of elves, dwarves, angels, and demons. He memorized ancient texts, devised new magical formulas, and experimented with combinations no one had dared attempt. Yet isolation was absolute. No other student could match him, no teacher could challenge him. He understood the curse of knowledge: the more one knows, the greater the burden to bear.
Knowledge without action is worthless… but action without understanding leads to death. I must master both.
The third illusion was darkness incarnate. Here, nothing was abstract; every day was pain and survival. Shadows moved with intent, and monsters hunted him with relentless ferocity, regenerating faster than he could strike. Traps tested his body, magic, and moral compass. Injuries tore at his flesh, hunger gnawed at his resolve, and death lurked in every corner.
Here, Ren learned endurance, patience, and the harsh truth of survival. Every injury and near-death moment carved a lesson into his soul. He realized that power alone could not protect those he loved; only careful planning, perception, and the willingness to do what others could not would keep them safe.
Then, all three illusions shattered.
Ren awoke in the arms of his mother, a newborn once more, fragile and helpless in appearance, but with the mind of someone who had lived decades three times over. His purple eyes flickered with fragments of the lives he had endured. He remembered every battle, every spell, every strategic maneuver, and every moral compromise.
I survived. Again. And this world… this fragile world… will not break me.
The clan estate was alive with history and politics. Solarys warriors had trained for centuries, and their halls were steeped in whispers of rival clans, ancient feuds, and legends long forgotten by the masses. The Eyes of Origin, fifteen legendary ocular artifacts of immense power and curse, were spoken of in hushed tones. Ren did not yet know he would one day claim sixteen of these eyes. For now, he observed, patient and calculating, knowing that every glance, every whispered conversation, could contain valuable information.
Ren's parents marveled at his apparent rapid development. His father handed him a wooden practice sword, expecting a child's clumsy attempts, but Ren moved as though he were a seasoned warrior. His mother began instructing him in minor spells, watching in disbelief as he manipulated mana threads to create illusions, already far beyond normal training.
This is play for them… but for me, it is preparation. Every swing, every spell, every movement is rehearsal for what is coming.
Beneath the silver moon, Ren meditated, glimpsing countless threads of possible futures. In some, he was victorious; in others, broken. A name whispered through the threads: the Chosen One, a being born once every nine hundred years or more, destined to wield unimaginable power.
I did not ask for this. I did not choose it. But it is mine. I must survive. I must protect. I must endure… even if the world itself burns around me.
Friendship came in the form of Kael, a fearless and brash child who matched Ren in spirit if not yet in skill. Only Kael could challenge him, push him to grow, and test the limits of his resolve. Their rivalry was forged in teasing, small competitions, and subtle mentorship. Through Kael, Ren learned trust, loyalty, and the weight of responsibility toward others.
Other friends adored him, yet he kept a cautious distance. Every relationship carried the risk of loss. The illusions had taught him that even a single moment of attachment could be exploited, broken, or erased. I cannot afford carelessness. Not with those I love.
The Solarys Clan's halls whispered with history. Tales of rival clans, ancient wars, and legendary battles permeated the walls. Ren learned to read people as easily as books, to predict movements and motives, to anticipate conflict before it appeared. He understood that he was not yet the strongest, but through strategy, cunning, and perception, he could overcome those who were.
By the age of nine, Ren's mastery of swordplay, martial arts, and minor magic far exceeded what should have been possible for his years. Yet he never let this arrogance surface. He trained silently, always observing, always calculating. He knew that true mastery lay not in power but in control, patience, and understanding the hearts of both allies and enemies.
As he wandered the halls of the estate, the three moons above casting shifting light over the corridors, he felt the weight of destiny pressing against him. The threads of fate, prophecy, and the legacy of the Solarys Clan intertwined, yet he remained calm.
I didn't kill them on purpose. I never wanted to go this far… but I have to protect my family. I have to endure. I must survive.
And beneath the luminous watch of the three moons, amidst whispers of prophecy, magical currents, and unseen eyes of the gods, Ren took his first conscious steps toward a destiny no mortal had yet imagined. He was a child with the wisdom of lifetimes, a boy who had survived horrors unseen, a soul burdened with knowledge and responsibility, yet determined to endure.
The world will not break me. I will endure. I will survive. And I will protect them… even if it burns.