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Author's Note:
This story is written with the help of AI, but the heart, ideas, and direction come from me. English is not my first language, so I sincerely apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes you may encounter.
To everyone who chooses to read this webnovel, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I wish you an enjoyable journey through these chapters, and good luck as you follow the path of my characters.
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Chapter 000: The Unwanted Man Who Died, The Young Prince Who Rose
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The streetlamps hummed faintly in the quiet city of Huntsville, Alabama. Keith Walker trudged along cracked pavement, hoodie pulled over his head. Twenty-five years of life, and it already felt too long.
Keith (thoughts): Another shift done. Another night of wandering. Just me and this empty world…
The city didn't notice him. He was another forgotten man, another good soul beaten raw by the world's cruelty. Orphan not by choice, drifting through a life without anchor.
He let out a bitter laugh under his breath.
Keith (thoughts): No one would cry if I vanished tonight. No one—except…
His pace slowed. For a heartbeat, he remembered her. A girl whose name and face had long been washed away by time. A girl who once wept for him.
Keith (murmuring): "I can't even remember you anymore… but you were real, weren't you?"
Before his thoughts could spiral, a sound sliced through the night.
A scream.
Keith's eyes darted ahead. A child, no older than seven, stood in the crosswalk, frozen in terror. Her small frame trembled as headlights barreled toward her. The truck swerved, horn blaring, the driver drunk and laughing.
Keith: "Move!"
He sprinted, lungs burning. In that instant, nothing else mattered. He lunged, pushing the girl with all his strength. She tumbled onto the curb.
He had only enough time to see her eyes widen—then came the impact.
Metal. Pain. Blinding white.
His body broke, but for a fleeting second, he thought he heard crying again. A girl's crying.
Keith (thoughts, fading): Guess… this is it. Maybe… that's enough.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
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Tightness. Claustrophobia. He couldn't breathe.
Then—voices. Not English, but soft, melodic, unfamiliar. They rose and fell in frantic rhythm.
Unknown voice (in Thean): "The child breathes! Hurry, the Empress—!"
Keith gasped, air flooding his lungs. Light seared his eyes.
He was in someone's arms. A woman's arms.
Silver hair framed her pale face, golden eyes shimmering as tears slipped down her cheeks. She smiled with exhaustion, pressing her lips against his tiny forehead.
Woman (weakly, Thean): "My son… Keith Chaos… my prince…"
Keith couldn't understand her words, but the warmth of her tone pierced his newborn heart.
Keith (thoughts): This… this is my mother?
But her breathing faltered. Her grip weakened. He felt her tears fall onto his skin.
Healer (urgent): "The Empress's life force is collapsing! It is not the body—it is the spirit!"
The woman tried to hold him closer, whispering words he could not grasp. Then, her golden eyes dimmed.
Her arms slackened.
Her smile froze.
Empress Aoleria Ambrosia de Dragona was gone.
And Keith, reborn, wailed—not just the cry of a baby, but the grief of two lifetimes.
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Years trickled by in the Dragonite Palace.
The boy who once was Keith Walker now bore the name Keith Chaos de Dragona. Black hair, gray eyes, a solemn face too mature for his age. Servants looked at him with pity when they thought he wasn't watching.
One day, he overheard them.
Servant 1 (whispering): "Poor child. Born in blood, motherless."
Servant 2: "And to think, the Emperor wasn't even there…"
Servant 1: "Best not say more. His Majesty hears everything."
Keith clenched his fists.
Keith (thoughts): They pity me… but it's worse than that. Father… he blames me.
The truth came sharp and brutal one night, when Emperor Kael himself finally stood before him.
Kael Barbatos de Dragona. His presence alone was suffocating. Broad shoulders draped in crimson and black, his gaze as sharp as drawn steel.
Kael (coldly): "So. This is the boy who killed his mother."
Keith froze, his small body trembling.
Keith: "I… I didn't—"
Kael (cutting him off): "Do not deny it. She died because you were born. Remember that."
The Emperor turned away, his cloak sweeping like a blade across the marble floor.
Keith's throat closed. The words sank deep, carving scars on his young heart.
Keith (thoughts): I am my mother's killer.
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But there was someone who refused to let that belief consume him.
Isabella Siffon. Once a maid of Empress Aoleria, now Keith's guardian, aid, and adoptive mother.
Her chestnut hair framed a gentle face, her steady eyes unwavering even under Kael's looming shadow. She knelt before Keith, cupping his small cheeks.
Isabella: "Listen to me, Keith. You are not to blame."
Keith (whispering): "But Father says—"
Isabella (firmly): "Your father is a cruel man. His words are chains meant to break you. But you are not broken."
Her hands trembled slightly, but her voice was steady.
Isabella: "You are her legacy. Her hope. And mine as well."
Keith's eyes welled. For the first time, he clung to her, burying his face in her shoulder.
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Days bled into years.
Isabella taught him Thean—the language of Thea, the world he had been reborn into. She sang to him in quiet moments. She held him through nightmares.
His stepfamily, too, showed kindness. Though bound by blood to Kael, they never treated Keith with disdain. Gentle words, patient smiles, soft embraces—slowly, they began to mend the cracks in his heart.
One evening, as Isabella tucked him into bed, Keith whispered a thought that weighed on him.
Keith: "Why… why did I come here? Why did I live again… if it only brought death?"
Isabella stroked his hair, her voice soft as a lullaby.
Isabella: "Because fate has chosen you. Because your life will change this world."
Keith frowned, unsure.
Keith: "I don't want to hurt anyone again…"
Isabella: "Then don't. Be different from him. Use your life to heal, not to destroy."
Her words planted a seed.
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By ten, Keith began to understand. He was not like other children. Memories of Earth lingered. The face of the crying girl haunted him. His soul carried scars of two lifetimes.
And within him, something stirred. A strange presence. A system whispering in the dark corners of his mind.
Keith (thoughts): This world… this throne… my father's sins…
He looked out across the palace gardens, moonlight bathing him in silver.
Keith (thoughts): I don't know what fate is planning. But I'll change it. I'll become someone different. Someone worthy of her sacrifice.
He did not yet see the future awaiting him:
Thirteen women whose lives would intertwine with his.
A throne drenched in blood he would one day seize.
A system—the Trinity Sovereign Nexus—that would shake the Omniverse.
For now, he was only Keith.
Keith Walker, the unwanted man who died.
Keith Chaos de Dragona, the young prince who rose.
And his story was only beginning.
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