Morning was worse than the nightmare.
Alex was an orphan.
The word felt small for what it erased.
The government office smelled sterile — disinfectant, paper, something faintly metallic. The clerk barely looked up.
"Name?"
"Alex X̸̀…," he muttered.
Keys clacked. A nod.
"Status logged. Stipend and educational support confirmed."
That was it.
No questions. No curiosity. No sign that the world cared what he'd survived.
The disconnect made his skin crawl.
He cleared his throat. "I'd also like to report an awakening."
The clerk sighed softly. "Magic, battle arts, rune?"
Alex hesitated.
This wasn't normal. Someone had already rewritten his life cleanly enough to pass every check. Revealing everything felt like stepping into a trap he couldn't see.
"Light magic. Basic spear arts. Lux fragment."
Typed. Logged. Forgotten.
Outside, sunlight felt unreal.
I survived, he thought. And no one will ever know.
Maybe that was safer.