I had already spent one month in this world by the time my fifteenth birthday arrived.
Thirty days of observation.
Thirty days of pretending.
Thirty days of learning how the Morvain estate breathed, how its people moved, and how history was quietly preparing to repeat itself.
That was more than enough time to understand one thing clearly:
The tragedy wasn't sudden.
It was scheduled.
Everyone else believed awakening happened the moment a child turned fifteen. I had watched it happen to others—heard servants whisper about distant relatives whose Status Screens descended in brilliant light, revealing futures they would never escape.
So when I opened my eyes on my birthday morning—
And nothing appeared—
I wasn't surprised.
No screen.
No light.
No revelation.
Just the familiar ceiling of a room I had grown accustomed to over the past month.
I sat up slowly, exhaling.
Still nothing.
That was fine.
Because I hadn't spent the last month waiting for power.
I had spent it preparing for survival.
The Morvain estate was already awake. Decorations lined the corridors, servants moved with practiced efficiency, and the air carried the scent of baked sweets. Birthdays mattered here—especially the fifteenth—but this one mattered for another reason too.
Today, my sister would return home.
And tonight, according to the novel, everything would burn.
"Julien!"
Small footsteps rushed toward me before I could leave my room. Joshua collided into my side, grinning widely.
My younger brother.
Alive. Loud. Annoyingly energetic.
"Today's the day!" he said. "You're fifteen now! Did it happen yet?"
I placed a hand on his head. "Not yet."
He blinked. "Maybe it's late?"
"Maybe," I said, smiling.
In the novel, Joshua didn't live long enough to ask that question again.
I didn't let the thought show.
At breakfast, my parents talked about the evening celebration. Joshua rambled excitedly about sparring with Alicia when she arrived. I listened carefully, noting times, locations, movements.
For a month, I had memorized this routine.
My mother noticed my silence. "Are you nervous?"
"No," I answered honestly. "Just thinking."
My grandfather noticed more.
Helior Morvain's gaze lingered on me longer than anyone else's ever had.
"You have not awakened," he said calmly.
"No," I replied.
He nodded once. "Then wait. Power that arrives late is often power that refuses to be ordinary."
I stored that away.
Alicia arrived in the afternoon.
Joshua ran to her immediately. She caught him with ease, laughing softly. I watched from a short distance, committing every detail to memory.
This was the last peaceful moment in the original timeline.
Not this time.
For the rest of the day, I stayed close. Too close to be coincidence, not close enough to draw suspicion. I guided servants away from vulnerable areas. I delayed certain preparations under reasonable excuses. I positioned myself near my family whenever possible.
No one questioned it.
I had spent a month earning their trust.
As evening approached, the air grew heavy.
I glanced once more at my empty vision.
Still no Status Screen.
That was fine.
Because I wasn't waiting to awaken.
I was waiting for the moment where knowledge mattered more than strength.
And when that moment came—
I would not hesitate.