Chapter one — Waking Up
Death had always fascinated people. It was a topic everyone avoided thinking about, yet one scholars had dissected endlessly.
Papers were written, theories constructed, debates raged over what it was that a being felt in its final seconds. People wondered if the consciousness—the soul—flickered out like a candle or lingered on in a desperate, futile attempt at survival.
Some spoke of heaven and hell—some sort of afterlife. Others debated whether the soul even existed at all.
Lucien had thought about it too.
A lot.
And then it became his turn.
He had been having the time of his life—driving and singing—wondering if he had enough time to grind a few more hours before his shift, when darkness claimed him.
There was no pain. No bright light at the end of a tunnel.
Just absence.
And yet, that absence was misleading.
He had spent countless hours consuming stories and tropes about people who died only to wake up somewhere better. Somewhere impossible.
He had imagined it happening to him more times than he could count—a fantasy where he was important, maybe overpowered, definitely surrounded…
—wanted.
Now, lying in the void, Lucien felt only peace.
Perhaps the nightmare of his ordinary life had finally ended.
—or so it seemed.
A sudden, shrill sound tore through the darkness.
"Oh, you'd like that, huh…"
The words were followed by a low chuckle.
Lucien stiffened. That voice… he would recognize that voice anywhere.
Slowly—very slowly—he turned toward the source of the sound.
…and froze.
Less than five feet away from him—if distance could be accurately measured in the void—floated a figure who looked no different from himself. One could even argue who was who.
Same eyes. Same jaw. Same lazy posture, hands tucked behind his head, legs crossed as he floated in the void.
Lucien's eyes widened. "What the—"
In that moment, if someone had told him he was looking at his twin—or even his own reflection—he wouldn't have doubted it.
Not for a second.
The other him tilted his head slightly, examining him with faint curiosity.
"Tch." The double clicked his tongue. "I know I'm handsome, but try not to stare too long, okay?" He paused deliberately. "I don't swing that way."
Lucien's eye twitched.
For a moment, shock paralyzed him. Then outrage flooded in, hot and immediate.
"…Fuck you."
The words exploded out of him, followed by a stream of profanity that echoed strangely in the void. He didn't know why, but it felt good.
When he finally ran out of breath, the other Lucien simply raised an eyebrow.
"Are you done?"
The casual tone hit harder than any insult.
Lucien clenched his teeth. "What the hell is this? Who are you? Why do you look like me?" he demanded, now sitting upright.
He stared at the doppelgänger, who was floating upside down before him, still in the same relaxed posture. The concept of up or down seemed meaningless in the void—every direction identical.
The doppelgänger smiled.
Then casually dismantled the entire scenario.
"A war is coming," he said—before correcting himself almost immediately. "No… it is already here."
His casual mask slipped.
His eyes, now distant, churned with chaotic emotion.
Lucien remained silent. Confused—but somehow certain that whatever this person was about to say was too important to interrupt.
"I have failed to keep my promise," the doppelgänger continued quietly. "I have failed to protect them."
He let out a small, bitter chuckle.
"But who would have thought things would end up like this… that I would be given a second chance."
Lucien could feel the heavy sadness radiating from him now. It felt suffocating. As if the darkness around them was pressing inward.
"W-what are you talking about?" Lucien stammered, fighting down the strange wave of sadness creeping into his chest. "You're not trying to takeover my body, are you?"
That was how these scenes usually went right?
The doppelgänger paused.
He looked directly at him—before slowly shaking his head.
"You probably wouldn't remember any of it anyway," he said quietly. "So there is no use saying more."
He looked upward, as though seeing through layers of darkness Lucien couldn't even perceive.
"It is time." His voice softened. "You should wake up now."
"Huh…?"
"Wake up." The doppelgänger repeated and this time the words exploded out with sudden force.
Lucien gasped as blinding white light engulfed him. The void did not shatter; it dissolved. Collapsing inward until nothing remained but a hollow, echoing whisper threading through the brightness.
"Go… and don't make the same mistakes I did…"
————————————
Evolution era:
Year: 1083
Honk! Honk!
Bang!
Well, that was the last thing Lucien actually remembered. But now? He stood in a narrow alleyway, wearing a bloodied tunic.
"What the fuck?"
Lucien stood up straight and took a proper look at his body and surroundings.
He wore fitted trousers and a tunic, along with a pair of unfamiliar shoes. The design alone confused him—and the material even more so.
The fabric clung to his body like a second skin, yet it caused no discomfort and did not restrict his movements in the slightest. It felt breathable, light… almost alive in the way it adapted to his motions.
For a moment, Lucien wondered if something like this even existed on Earth. It felt like the sort of thing only billionaires or world elites might possess—if it existed at all.
Which made the dark stains covering it even more disturbing.
Blood.
He looked down at himself again.
The tunic was soaked through with it.
Yet strangely enough, although his body felt sore and exhausted, there wasn't a single injury on his skin. The pain he felt seemed more like the aftermath of a fight rather than of a mortal injury.
Bearable.
Manageable.
Which raised a much more troubling question.
Where did the blood come from?
Lucien slowly lifted his head and finally took in his surroundings.
The alleyway itself was narrow, wedged between towering structures that rose high into the sky. Their surfaces gleamed faintly, reflecting light off smooth panels of glass-like material and dark metallic frames.
Even the ground beneath his feet looked strange.
Instead of asphalt, cement, or tiled pavement, the surface shimmered faintly like polished crystal. It reflected fragments of light from somewhere above, giving the entire place an almost surreal appearance.
Lucien frowned.
"Where the hell am I…?"
He had just started piecing together the bizarre scene when a sudden stabbing pain erupted in his head.
"Argh—!"
Lucien grabbed his skull as a wave of pressure surged through his mind.
It felt as if something was forcing its way inside—memories pounding against his consciousness like someone knocking violently from within.
People. Places. Things. The pain intensified. Fragments of unfamiliar memories flickered through his mind.
Then as suddenly as they rose—
They began to settle.
Lucien slowly lifted his head, breathing unevenly.
"Huh…? Wha—what is this…?"
He stared blankly into the empty air in front of him.
"Is this… what people call transmigration?"
His voice sounded almost disbelieving.
"Three thousand years in the future… I actually transmigrated."
He paused… then frowned.
"What a trash," he muttered with a sneer. "Dying for a woman, huh…"
Fragments of the body's memories continued to surface.
Lucien Gray.
The name appeared in his mind as naturally as if it had always belonged there.
"Same name as the previous me…" he murmured. "Coincidence?"
He glanced around the alleyway again before looking down at the blood covering his clothes.
"To be honest…" he muttered quietly, "…this doesn't seem nearly as bad as it did a minute ago."
More memories surfaced—this time clearer. Things about the world. Its inhabitants—new and old. Its history since his death—however fragmented.
Lucien's expression slowly hardened.
"If the things I'm remembering are actually true…" he said slowly, "…then I need to grow stronger as soon as possible."
His gaze drifted slightly upward, thoughtful.
Then he tilted his head.
"I wonder how he'll react when he finds out his plan failed."
The image of a certain golden haired fellow briefly resurfaced in his mind.
Lucien's lips curled faintly.
"Try again?" he murmured, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.
"Well then…" His gaze hardened with sudden resolve. "Let him come."