I was just another tired soul in the city.
Work was hell, my boss was an asshole, and I was barely scraping by in a shoebox apartment. My back ached, my brain felt like mush, and all I wanted was to get home, crack open a cold drink, and pass out in front of something brainless on the screen. I wasn't thinking about heroics or fate or whatever crap people like to believe in. I just wanted rest.
But life had a different plan.
As I dragged my feet across the crosswalk, I saw her—a little girl, no more than six. She was in the middle of the road, clutching a stuffed bear, frozen in place like a deer in headlights.
I heard the roar before I saw it.
A truck.
Speeding.
Time slowed.
She wasn't moving.
Why the hell wasn't she moving?
My body moved before my brain did. Instinct. Or maybe something deeper. I sprinted. Pushed her out of the way. Felt the impact like a goddamn building smashing into me.
Pain.
Searing.
Bone-crushing.
I couldn't breathe.
The world dimmed. People screamed. Tires screeched. Someone was shouting for an ambulance.
But none of that mattered. Not really.
As I bled out on that dirty street, all I could think was:
"Please... let me have another shot. In another world. Anywhere but here. Just… let me grow stronger. Let me be something."
And then everything went black.
Light.
Blinding, sterile light.
Crying.
Wait… that was me?
I tried to speak, but only shrill wails came out. Everything felt wrong. My limbs were tiny. My vision blurred. My thoughts were screaming inside a newborn body.
Two faces hovered above me—one man, one woman. Their eyes were glassy with tears, their smiles trembling with joy.
What the fuck?
I couldn't move properly. My head flopped uselessly. My body was weak. But my mind? Sharp. Aware. Adult.
I'd been reborn.
Actually reborn.
And I wasn't just imagining it. This wasn't Earth. The language was different. The clothes they wore—some fantasy mix of medieval and ornate robes—definitely not normal. My new father held me up like I was the next coming of the gods, chanting something in a deep tone. I felt magic in the air, like static on my skin.
Somewhere deep inside, something stirred. A warmth.
A spark.
I closed my eyes.
Alright, universe.
You gave me what I asked for.
Let's see what I can do with it.
I was named Rael. Just Rael. Noble enough to sound important, short enough to remember. My parents were part of some village nobility—a lord and a healer. The territory was called Deyran Vale, and from the way people treated my father, he was more than just a small-time noble. The dude had presence. Carried a sword that radiated power and wore a crest on his cape shaped like a dragon swallowing a flame.
As for my mother? Magic incarnate. She healed with a whisper, calmed people with a glance. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought she was a goddess.
I was born into privilege, sure, but this world didn't seem safe or easy. I heard rumors of monstrous beasts, bandit hordes, and something called the Dark Surge. People respected strength here. Worshipped it.
OK this is getting awkward but it will do.
I couldn't speak yet, not properly. But I could feel. I could sense. And more importantly… I could grow.
Faster than normal.
By the time I was a few weeks old, I could already lift my head, crawl, and focus my eyes like an adult. My parents were stunned. My mother whispered to my father one night that I might be a Gifted. Someone chosen by the "Celestial Flame."
They had no idea just how right they were.
On my third month, the dreams started.
Visions of the moment I died. The girl. The truck. The pain. And then the wish. It replayed again and again until I woke up drenched in sweat—or well, baby drool.
Then, one night, I heard it.
[Wish Recognized]
[Skill Awakening: Accelerated Growth]
[Unique Trait Acquired: Soul Retention – Retains knowledge and memory from previous life]
[System Calibration in Progress…]
Holy shit.
A system.
A real one.
The next morning, I could feel it. A tiny flicker of information hovering at the edge of my mind.
Name: Rael Deyran
Age: 3 Months
Race: Human (Modified)
Trait: Accelerated Growth
Skill: None
Physical Status: Healthy
Mana Status: Dormant (awakening pending)
I wasn't dreaming.
This world… it was real. And I had my own personal cheat code.
My wish was granted.
I wasn't going to waste it.
I pushed my body every day. Crawling became walking by the sixth month. Talking? I was spitting full sentences by eight. My parents were so proud they started calling me "Starborn."
But they weren't blind. They knew something was off. No baby should grow like this.
Still, they didn't stop me. My father started training me early—teaching me about swordsmanship, tactics, survival. My mother taught me about mana, herbs, and healing spells. I was absorbing everything like a sponge on steroids.
And I wanted more.
I didn't care about becoming a saint or a hero. I wanted freedom. Power. The ability to shape my life with my own hands, not be some overworked corporate puppet ever again.
If that meant climbing the ranks of this world, carving a path in blood and fire?
So be it.
Let the world throw monsters, politics, wars, and gods at me.
This time, I'm not going to die a nobody.