The evening sun bled softly across the Wynnstar estate, turning the wide training lawns into a sea of gold.
Two small figures lay sprawled in the grass, chests rising and falling as they tried to catch their breath. Their clothes were wrinkled, their hair messy from running wild across the grounds, and their fingers were still faintly stained with dirt from whatever grand adventure they had just concluded.
They appeared the same age, both around five, yet nothing about them felt alike in presence or appearance.
One had silver hair that shimmered under the fading light and clear silver eyes that carried open emotion. The other had glossy black hair, dark as polished obsidian, and eyes of the same silver hue, though his held something quieter and more mature.
The silver-haired boy pushed himself up first.
He brushed grass from his tunic and glanced at the boy still lying flat beside him, staring lazily at the sky.
"Brother," he began, his voice soft but hesitant. "Tomorrow… we turn five."
He paused, biting his bottom lip.
"How do you feel about the assessment? I can't stop thinking about it."
The boy on the ground did not answer.
Atlas Wynnstar kept his gaze fixed on the horizon, where the sun was slowly surrendering to dusk, orange melting into violet above him. The air carried the scent of trimmed grass and faint incense drifting from the estate's inner halls.
He let Rex's question linger between them.
It had been five years since he opened his eyes in this world.
Five years since he realized he was no longer the unemployed, sleep-deprived shut-in from Earth.
Here, children awakened their System Interface at the age of five, a sign of acknowledgment from the world system, or whatever it was called.
Magic existed here. So did superhuman warriors who could split stone with their bare hands. Everything revolved around something called a Class, like the RPGs Atlas used to grind through in his previous life.
The System awakened at five.
The Class, however, came later, around ten.
But the journey did not wait until then to begin. From the moment one was acknowledged by the world system, they could officially start their grind. Training translated into stat increases. Practice became measurable progress. Hard work could quite literally raise strength, agility, intellect, or even lead to the acquisition of skills.
It sounded simple.
But nothing was ever that simple. Or that fair.
People were born with different affinities and levels of talent, and that mattered more than anything.
The closer one's natural affinity aligned with a Class, the faster they grew toward it and the stronger they became upon acquiring it.
And in House Wynnstar, that meant everything.
Atlas finally turned his head slightly, watching Rex from the corner of his eye.
House Wynnstar stood proudly within the Cenir Empire as a lineage of powerful mages. For generations, they had produced spellcasters whose names carried weight in noble circles.
In this family, Mage-type Classes were not merely respected.
They were revered.
The inner circle. The decision-makers. The true power of the house.
All mages.
Which meant tomorrow was not just a ceremony.
It was judgment.
A specialized method would measure their magical affinity and talent. From that moment on, their place within the household would begin to solidify.
High talent meant resources, rare tomes, and personal guidance from elite mages.
Low talent meant… less.
Not abandonment though, they were still Wynnstars.
But the gap between favored and overlooked was vast.
Rex exhaled sharply when Atlas remained quiet.
"You've always been smarter than me," he said, forcing a small smile. "Everyone expects you to do well. Of course you're not worried."
He plucked a blade of grass and tore it in half.
"I wish I were half as talented as you."
There it was.
That faint edge in his voice. Not bitterness. Just a child's innocent jealousy tangled with fear.
Atlas rolled onto his side and looked at him properly.
"What are you talking about, Rex?"
His expression was calm, almost flat.
"Being smart doesn't mean I'll have magical talent. For all we know, I might end up suited for something boring like Scholar."
He shrugged lightly.
"You might even score higher than me tomorrow."
Silence settled again.
Rex knew Atlas was right. Logic agreed.
But logic did not calm the stomach.
He sighed for what felt like the tenth time that evening.
"That's exactly what I mean," Rex muttered. "Sometimes I forget we're the same age. It feels like I'm talking to someone older."
Atlas frowned.
"If I'm older," he said dryly, "why haven't you shown proper respect to your elder?"
Rex blinked.
Then he giggled.
He hopped to his feet and gave an exaggerated bow, one hand over his chest.
"Greetings, Elder Atlas."
For a second, Atlas tried to maintain his serious expression.
He failed.
A grin broke through, sudden and bright. He lunged forward, tackling Rex around the waist.
They tumbled into the grass, laughing and mock wrestling with all the dignity five-year-old nobles could muster.
The sky deepened into indigo before a sharp but gentle voice interrupted them.
"Young Masters, that is quite enough."
Their assigned maid approached briskly, hands on her hips, though her eyes were fond.
The boys separated reluctantly, brushing grass from their clothes once more.
"Goodnight," Rex said, offering Atlas a quick grin before being led away.
Atlas lifted a hand in farewell and followed his own attendant back toward the estate.
As he walked through grand corridors of stone and carved pillars, his thoughts grew quieter.
Tomorrow he would awaken the System.
Tomorrow he would step fully into this world.
Unlike Rex, he felt no fear.
Back on Earth, he had been a gamer who devoured fantasy novels and anime like oxygen. Reincarnating into a magic world?
If that wasn't main-character setup, what was?
He could already picture it.
Blinding talent.
Gasps from the elders.
A once-in-a-generation prodigy revealed under golden light.
He imagined the stunned expressions. The whispers.
He nearly walked into a pillar, lost in the fantasy.
They reached his chamber.
His personal maid, Agatha, moved efficiently inside, already preparing warm bathwater.
Atlas began removing his clothes. It had taken months for his adult mind to adjust to being attended to like this. At first, he nearly died of embarrassment.
Now, he endured it. Barely.
He still cringed whenever Agatha bathed him, but refusing would only cause confusion.
His eyelids grew heavier as warm water washed over him. His small body had limits. No matter how stubborn his mind was, it could not defy nature.
He used to stay up for nights straight playing games.
Now, he could barely make it past sunset.
Wrapped in soft nightwear, he was placed onto a bed far too large for someone his size.
The mattress swallowed him in warmth.
He was asleep within minutes.
—
Morning arrived quietly.
A pale beam of sunlight slipped past the curtains and brushed against Atlas's face.
His eyes opened instantly.
For once, he didn't need to be dragged from bed.
Today was important.
The door creaked open softly.
Agatha stepped inside and froze when she saw him already sitting at the edge of the bed.
A small smile curved her lips.
"Good morning, Young Master," she said warmly. "You seem very eager today."
Atlas smiled back without hesitation.
"Of course I am."
Today was the day.
Agatha approached and helped him straighten his clothes. As she worked, her thoughts wandered.
She had watched him grow from a fragile newborn into this composed little boy.
It had been a cruel twist of fate that his birth took his mother's life.
Fortunately, Lady Audrey had stepped in and raised him as her own, never showing favoritism between him and her biological children.
Still…
Agatha sometimes noticed things others did not.
When he thought no one was watching, Atlas's smiles faded too quickly.
When he sat alone, there was a distance in his eyes that did not belong to a child.
To the rest of the household, he was energetic and playful.
But Agatha had seen the quiet moments.
The loneliness.
Perhaps he knew the truth about his mother. Perhaps children simply sensed such things.
No matter how kind Lady Audrey was, some things could never be replaced.
Agatha adjusted his collar gently.
Today, though, he was smiling brightly.
Truly smiling.
She hoped whatever light had reached him that morning would never dim.
"Shall we begin preparing for the big day, Young Master?" she asked softly.
Atlas stood.
"Yes," he said, silver eyes gleaming.
The time had finally come for him to take his first real step in this new world, not as Abel, an unemployed shut-in from Earth, but as Atlas Wynnstar.