Noah was six years old when he realized something inside him was wrong.
Or maybe—
Something inside him was finally right.
It happened on an ordinary morning.
The forest was quiet, covered in soft mist. Sunlight slipped through the trees in thin lines, and birds hopped between branches. Noah stood alone behind the house, holding a wooden stick in his hands.
It was not a sword.
Just a stick.
Luca had left it for him.
"Practice if you want," his big brother had said casually. "But don't push yourself, okay?"
Luca always said that.
Don't push yourself.
In his previous life, no one had ever said those words to Theodore.
They had always said the opposite.
Try harder.
Move faster.
Don't slow us down.
Noah tightened his grip.
"I'll just… swing it once," he murmured.
He copied a simple motion Luca used during training. Nothing fancy. No strength behind it. Just a clean swing through the air.
The moment the stick moved—
Something answered him.
The air trembled.
Noah froze.
A strange sensation spread from his chest to his arms, warm and heavy, like invisible water flowing through his veins. The stick vibrated violently, and the mist around him was suddenly pushed back, as if struck by an unseen force.
Boom.
The ground cracked.
Noah was thrown backward and landed hard on the grass.
For a few seconds, he couldn't breathe.
His ears rang.
His heart pounded wildly.
"What…?" he whispered.
The stick had snapped in half.
The earth in front of him was split by a shallow line, as if something sharp had cut through it.
Noah stared, shaking.
He had not used strength.
He had not used magic—at least, not intentionally.
This was different.
Footsteps rushed toward him.
"Noah!"
Luca appeared first, panic written all over his face.
"Are you hurt?" Luca asked urgently, grabbing Noah's shoulders. "What happened? I felt something strange—"
Elarion arrived next, calm but alert. His eyes moved quickly from Noah to the broken ground, then to the snapped stick.
For the first time, Noah saw his father frown deeply.
"This…" Elarion murmured. "That shouldn't happen."
Noah swallowed.
"I didn't mean to," he said quickly. "I just swung it—"
Elarion raised a hand gently.
"I know," he said. "I believe you."
Those words eased Noah slightly.
In his previous life, explanations had never mattered.
Later that day, Elarion tested him.
Carefully.
Slowly.
He asked Noah to sit still and breathe.
"Do not force anything," Elarion instructed. "Just let what exists… move naturally."
Noah obeyed.
As he closed his eyes, he felt it again.
That same presence.
Quiet. Deep. Vast.
It did not feel violent.
It felt… endless.
Mana.
But not like normal mana.
Elarion's expression changed as he observed.
His calm cracked.
Just slightly.
"This density…" Elarion whispered. "This purity…"
Seraphina, watching nearby, clutched her hands together.
"What is it?" she asked softly.
Elarion exhaled slowly.
"He has no elemental alignment," he said. "No fixed affinity."
"That's bad?" Luca asked.
Elarion shook his head.
"No," he replied. "It's unheard of."
Noah opened his eyes.
"Is something wrong with me?" he asked quietly.
Seraphina immediately knelt and hugged him.
"No," she said firmly. "Never think that."
Elarion looked at Noah for a long moment.
"Your mana does not belong to the system of this world," he said carefully. "It does not behave as it should."
The words echoed in Noah's mind.
Does not belong.
Theodore remembered something.
The system.
The deletion.
The empty space.
His chest tightened.
That night, Noah dreamed.
He stood in the same endless void as before.
This time, something flickered in front of him.
Broken. Glitched.
[System Fragment Detected.]
[Warning: Unregistered Entity.]
Noah stared.
"So you're still there," he said softly.
The system did not answer properly.
[Re-evaluating…]
[Error.]
[Subject exists outside narrative bounds.]
Noah felt no fear.
Only calm.
"I'm alive," he said. "That should be enough."
The system flickered once.
Then disappeared.
When Noah woke up, his heart was steady.
He understood now.
His power wasn't a gift.
It was a result.
Because he had been erased.
Because he had survived.
Because the story no longer owned him.
In his previous life, Theodore had been the same person.
Same effort.
Same patience.
Same endurance.
But the world had crushed him.
This time—
The world would not be allowed to decide his worth.
Noah clenched his small hands.
"I'll grow stronger," he thought.
Not loudly.
Not proudly.
But with certainty.
And somewhere far away, the hero continued his journey—unaware that a boy with silver hair, abnormal power, and a memory of being discarded was quietly preparing to stand outside the story.
And one day—
In front of it.