Twelve-year-old Will Flow stood in front of the mirror, looking at his reflection non chalantly.
His black hair was getting medium-long, thick enough that it refused to behave. It held its shape even after he slept, like it had its own opinion. A few strands hung into his eyes until he pushed them back with two fingers—slow, practiced, the same motion he always used. His eyes were hazel, more green than brown. His skin was naturally a paler white—healthy, clean, and vibrant.
Will was big for his age. Thick-boned. Broad shoulders already setting his frame, thick wrists, hands too large for twelve. When Will flexed his fingers and let them relax, the knuckles looked heavy in the mirror. He would be tall like his father, and his father was a very large man. Will liked that. He had been big in his last life too.
Will took a deep breath and let it out. His fingertips rested on the sink edge for a second, then lifted, like he caught himself using it as an anchor.
Behind him, the room was the same as always. A bed. Bare walls. Everything orderly because Will kept it that way. The blanket was pulled flat, no wrinkles left to catch the eye. His shoes sat under the bed frame, lined up with the toes facing out. The desk was squared to the wall, and the holo computer sat on top beside his homework for "school." A thin glow from the holo screen washed the paper in a soft tint. Will nudged the top page until the corners matched the stack, then ran his thumb along the edge to smooth it. He did it once more, lighter, and stopped.
School was mandatory. Compulsory training of the Genesis Republic for children so mankind could keep fighting. All governments of Earth required children to do it. At thirteen, as a human, you received CADS—Cultivation Assist Defense System—and had your spirit tested to determine "talent."
Will's mouth tightened a fraction as the thought landed. In his first life, they had called him talentless.
What had been Asia was the Golden Dynasty. What had been the Americas was the Genesis Republic. The Omega Kingdom held Europe. The Untied Peoples held Africa—though only a small percentage of the land was under human control. Humanity lived in fortified cities, behind walls, arrays, and weapons.
Earth wasn't Earth anymore. It had grown and changed after the Shift. Maps in the World Net didn't even match the old textbooks. The planet had gained landmass during the Shift—vaguely similar shapes in the broad sense, but different once you looked close.
It had all changed 225 years ago, when Earth shifted to its location in the primal realm.
All technology failed. Earth's old laws no longer functioned; they had changed. Ki saturated the planet and cultivation became possible.
Day of Shift had been a blood bath. Almost a billion died. The Shift caused world wide earthquakes and tsunamis, wiping out cities and coastlines across the globe.
Animals changed in the time that followed, and humans lost their spot at the top of the food chain. Then there were other races of the primal realm, and the realms of nether and chaos.
If not for the restrictions of the heavens, humanity of Earth would be extinct.
But the worst monsters could be found with humanity itself.
Will's eyes slid to the book on his desk, tilted like it had been set down without care: HERO'S OF HUMANITY. Will pulled it closer with two fingers and steadied it against the desk edge.
There were six of them.
There should have been seven.
There was no mention of a seventh hero.
Will stared at the six names until the letters stopped looking like print and started looking like faces. "Bastards," Will thought, and the word sat flat in his head, more habit than heat.
Will had been that seventh hero. Will had liberated humanity as its strongest cultivator, and at his weakest they cut him down.
He hadn't been blessed with a Power.
He hadn't been selected the way the "talented" were, transported to an independent space for safe training.
He had been handed a manual, given a choice of a weapon, and told to survive.
Will had risen as the strongest anyway.
Will closed the book and let his hand rest on the cover for a moment before he moved it away.
Will looked back at the mirror. Funny thing was, he hadn't even wanted to rule. He wanted to cultivate and seek enlightenment through battle.
Always battle, Will thought, and a soft smile showed for a second before it faded.
Soon.
Will's eyes dropped, then lifted again, and his mind slid back to the Day of Shift—the day the apocalypse started and his life changed forever.
Will's right hand shifted into view. A tattoo of a ring circled his ring finger, a mark only he could see. It was still there from before. Will rubbed the mark once with his thumb and stopped. "Cursed item," Will thought, and kept his hand steady. He had gotten it as a Merit from the Cultivation Assist Defense System.
Will's thoughts pushed back further than the book, further than the mirror. Back to the point where his first life before the Shift had been shitty, but nothing like the apocalypse—an apocalypse that broke him and reforged him.