I opened my eyes to a sky I once set ablaze. Not literally, thankfully-though the memory of fire yet tasted bitter on my tongue-but the sight alone forced my chest tight with that old thrill I thought had died a century ago. Clouds drifted lazily over towers that gleamed in the sunlight like polished gemstones, their spires spearing into the heavens. Towers that now belonged to "heroes." Heroes. Ha.
I rolled over, groaning. Something felt…different. Lighter. Fleshy. Smooth. Hot. My hands-my new hands-were delicate, unscarred, and far too perfect for someone who had once crumbled kingdoms with a snap of a finger. A mirror leaned against the wall, reflecting a face I barely recognized. Chestnut hair, sharp jawline, eyes that would make someone faint if they weren't careful. If I were to sum up my current existence in one word: ridiculous.
"Brilliant," I muttered. "I've come back as a teenage heartthrob. A century of terror reduced to acne and awkwardness."
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed—or whatever this body had been sleeping on—and stood. The floor creaked. Perfect. My old body had demanded fear and respect; this one? It groaned when I walked. Still, the mirror confirmed what my mind already suspected: young, hot, and dangerously underestimated.
Below me stretched the sprawling academy: white towers shimmering in the sunlight, banners fluttering in the breeze, students bustling about like ants in a well-ordered colony. Aurelia Hero Academy. Heroes trained here. On the ruins of my empire. On the ashes of the cities I'd burned. And no one remembered me.
I suppressed a smirk. Perfect.
I flexed my fingers. Centuries of knowledge, strategy, and magic trapped in a fifteen-year-old's body. Humbling. Infuriating. Fun. Very fun.
I moved toward the gates, taking it all in. Students practicing duels, casting spells that fizzled harmlessly, strutting about as if the world had always belonged to them, their buzz of chatter: rankings, exams, patrols against the Rifts. Bright, eager, and completely unaware. Something inside me twinged. The Rifts were out there, still alive, untamed. And the so-called heroes? Complacent.
Perfect chaos, I mused. And now, a young heartthrob to meddle in it.
I passed a pair of students muttering complaints about an upcoming "Awakening test." One bumped into me. "Watch it, newbie!"
I tilted my head and offered the faintest grin. "Sorry. I'm. new."
Understatement of the century.
As I ventured deeper into the yard, my gaze caught something. Across the training ground, one figure flowed gracefully. Golden sparks danced from her hands, arcs of light that illuminated every movement. The technique was mine, my technique, centuries-old magic praised as her own while it now dazzled the next generation of heroes.
She looked up suddenly. Hair catching the sun, lighter chestnut than mine, framing a sharp face that could make grown men stumble. Lyra Dawn. The name landed in my mind before I even realized it. Top student. Prodigy. Adored. And now… unknowingly using magic I once perfected.
I leaned against a nearby pillar, suppressing a smirk. Charming. Infuriating. Worth watching. She didn't notice me-or maybe she did, and dismissed me as another weak first-year. Either way, she had my full attention.
I moved closer, mingling with the milling crowd. There were students everywhere: some practicing, some joking, and some running errands for teachers who seemed far too relaxed for my taste. The old academy would have been cold, imposing, intimidating. This… this was pastel-colored chaos with a hint of danger.
A small boy tripped over his own robes and fell near my foot. "Oof!" he squeaked.
I raised a hand. "Need assistance?"
He scrambled up, mumbling apologies, and took off. Yes. Definitely a different era.
I made my way toward the central courtyard, eyes scanning for anything familiar—or anything ominous. The old city ruins were buried beneath these pristine streets, but I could feel the faint echoes of my power lingering, twisted and dormant. A Rift monster's mark, probably, though no one else seemed to notice. I smiled thinly. They're unprepared. I like that.
I stilled as Lyra landed the final flourish of her spell, sparks dying into the grass. She exhaled, brushing stray hair from her face, and in that moment, she looked… mortal. Fragile. Perfect. I felt a flicker of something unnameable-interest, irritation, curiosity, perhaps all three.
She's using my magic. And she doesn't even know it.
I shook my head, and a twist of amusement curled my lips. "Adorable. Infuriating. Dangerous." I could already tell our paths would cross. Hopefully, I'd remain unnoticed until I figured out whether she was a threat-or a potential ally. Or maybe something else.
I watched; the wind shifted, carrying the faint scent of ozone. Something moved in the shadows beyond the training ground: small, subtle, evolving. A Rift creature, perhaps, testing the barriers the academy had so proudly erected. My fingers itched to intervene, but no—patience. Let them stumble first. Always let them stumble first.
A bell rang out across the courtyard. Students scampered toward the main hall, leaving me to my thoughts. I strolled after them, blending in, noting the dorm assignments, the classrooms, the training arenas. Everything felt… strangely familiar and painfully foreign at the same time.
I ruled kingdoms. I commanded armies. And now… I'm a teenager navigating hallways.
I smiled wryly; the absurdity wasn't lost on me. Yet, beneath the humor, a plan began to form. Step one: blend in. Step two: survive. Step three: uncover the lingering Rift threat. Step four: reclaim my legacy, piece by piece.
I passed a group of first-years practicing duels, one of whom tripped and sent a fireball sizzling into a tree. The tree survived; the student screamed. I bit back a laugh. Some things never change. Children today, chaos tomorrow.
The halls guided me to the main entrance of the academy: statues of long-forgotten heroes lined the corridor, banners boasting victories I didn't recall. The irony of it all made me grin. They've taken my empire and turned it into a playground of accolades. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
I stopped and looked around, my gaze locking onto Lyra again as she talked to another student, wholly unaware of the storm she'd walked into. Her laughter sounded like sunbeams slicing through centuries of darkness. I shook my head. Dangerous and delightful. I'll be keeping an eye on her.
And then, finally, the thought that settled deep in my chest: If the world has forgotten Erevan Voidheart, good. Let it. For this time.I will make it unforgettable. I took a deep breath, letting the wind fill my lungs. The academy gates loomed ahead-a threshold into a life I hadn't asked for but couldn't resist. Step by step, I would walk the path of a student. And somewhere along the way, I would remind the world-and perhaps one particularly infuriating prodigy-that Erevan Voidheart was not so easily erased. A century-old villain reincarnated into a hot young body, walking among heroes, armed with the wisdom, sarcasm, and power of centuries. the game had just begun. And maybe, just maybe… I would keep an eye on Lyra Dawn along the way. Step by step, the Dark Emperor became a student. And the sky I once burned looked so much sweeter than ever.