A few days had passed since Luca had awoken in this world.
And yet, every morning still felt surreal.
Sunlight through glass, laughter in courtyards, magic in the air.
It wasn’t a dream. No screen, no keyboard, no respawn tir.
Just breath. And warmth. And people who were once lines of code, now full of life.
Luca sat on the edge of his bed in the dorm room, staring at the leather-bound journal he had found.
His thoughts churned. No clarity. No answers. Only noise.
What am I even doing here?
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a shaky sigh.
"Am I supposed to be doing sothing? Saving soone? Helping Aiden? Avoiding him? I—"
He clenched the journal.
Back then, my life...
The mory ca unbidden. A small apartnt. Stale ran. Faint streetlights through cracked curtains. Silence, always.
Born in an orphanage. Adopted when he was six. Given a new na, a new house. A new chance. And still left alone.
His parents had tried, sure. For a while.
But eventually, even they left.
All he had were pixels.
And this ga.
"I didn’t even live back there, did I?"
He laughed bitterly. It wasn’t sad. It wasn’t happy.
Just hollow.
If that was living, then maybe this is better.
Here, the air was clean. Food was fresh. People smiled.
And above all, here were the characters he spent years with.
Aiden. Kyle. Selene. Lilianne. Seraphina. Nas etched into his bones.
They were more familiar to him than any real person had ever been.
And that terrified him.
Because no one had ever been real to him. Not like this.
His hands trembled as he brought them to his face.
"I don’t even know how to be a person anymore. How do I talk to people? How do I make friends?"
He let out a quiet, broken laugh.
"Do I even deserve that?"
The ache was sharp, sudden, lodged in his chest.
So why not just live?
Forget the hero plot. Forget the death flags. Avoid Aiden, sidestep Lilianne, and coast under Seraphina’s radar. Find a quiet town. Open a bakery. Raise a cat.
But that was a lie too.
He wouldn’t be able to rest. Not with everything he knew.
His eyes drifted to the journal.
But what I saw in there...
He hadn’t even reached the halfway mark.
Yet the contents already gnawed at him.
Like whispers from the dark corners of mory.
A tiline that shouldn’t exist.
Nas that shouldn’t be known.
And most of all—
Why do I feel like Luca was never just a random extra?
He was supposed to die.
Arc Three.
During the Beast Contract Ritual atop Mythic Mountain.
Slaughtered by the demon released in a botched summoning.
Just a disposable noble standing too close to the ritual site.
A bug. An afterthought.
And yet...
Sothing’s wrong. That death—was it truly pointless?
Luca looked at his hands.
Steady now. But trembling on the inside.
"It can’t be. Right?"
He glanced at the journal.
What I read... it’s absurd. Impossible. No way.
He forced a laugh. Then stopped.
What if this world had been holding its breath for him to wake up?
What if the piece missing in every one of his 1,432 failures wasn’t a skill point or a weapon or a forgotten side quest...
But a person?
This person?
No. No way.
He clutched the journal tighter.
But the whisper remained.
What if Luca Von Valentine was the difference between a world that always broke...
And one that could finally be saved?
This wasn’t a dream. It couldn’t be. Every line on their faces, every flick of emotion in their eyes — this was reality.
And seeing them here — characters he guided, fought beside, cried over — his heart didn’t know whether to burst or retreat.
Part of him wanted to run to them. To shout their nas like an old friend. To laugh with Kyle, to duel with Selene, to tease Lilianne, to speak with Aiden like he had a thousand tis before.
But that wasn’t his place. Not yet.
He clutched the bedsheets, willing himself to stay still.
"Gods, I’m just barely holding myself back."
He covered his face with both hands.
"Everyone else who gets isekai’d at least knows what they’re supposed to do. Get close to the hero? Beco the villain? Change the ending? They have direction."
He laughed softly. Bitter.
"? I’m just as pathetic as ever. No plan. No clue. No role."
A knock ca at the door.
Luca flinched, quickly setting the journal aside. When he opened the door, no one was there — only a sealed envelope resting on the floor.
He picked it up, puzzled.
His breath caught as he read the sender’s na.
Mother & Father.
His hands shook.
He tore it open and unfolded the letter.
Dear Luca,
We hope your first few days at the Academy haven’t been too overwhelming. It’s a strange place, and you’ve always had a way of getting lost in your own head. But we’re proud of you. Truly.
No matter how things go, no matter what happens — rember, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Not to the Valentinos, not to nobles, not to the professors.
Just be you.
Live. Laugh. Stumble, fall, get up again. Make friends. Make mistakes. That’s all we want — for you to live a life that feels yours.
We’ll be waiting when you co ho for break. With your favorite stew. And yes, I’ll even make the cake this ti.
With all our love,
Mother & Father
Luca read it again.
And again.
His vision blurred halfway through the third reading.
So this is what it feels like... to be wanted?
Not as a player.
Not as a savior.
Just as... Luca.
He folded the letter slowly, held it to his chest.
For the first ti since arriving in this world — it felt real.
He had parents now.
Even if this wasn’t his world — it didn’t matter.
Because it had given him sothing the last one never had.
I don’t know what my purpose is here, he thought. Maybe I’m just a bug in the story. Maybe I’m still nobody.
But if I get a chance to live... then I want to live.
Truly.
He wiped his eyes.
"Even if I don’t know what my role is... I at least know one thing."
His voice trembled — soft, but resolute.
"I don’t want to die again."
He took a deep breath.
"I don’t know if I should help Aiden, or avoid him completely. I don’t even know if this world is going to kick out tomorrow."
He stared at the ceiling.
"But I’m done just sitting here. If nothing else... I should train. Prepare. Build myself up. If I’m destined to die in Arc Three, then I’ll break that destiny."
He stood.
Not confidently.
But firmly.
"First, I survive. Then I decide everything else."
The evening sun filtered gently through the dormitory windows, casting long amber rays across the polished floor. Lilianne Fairmoore lay sprawled atop her plush velvet bedding, her rosy pink hair tied into a high ponytail that now rested lazily beside her neck, slightly tousled from the day. The usual elegance in her movents had faded into a relaxed stillness, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other tracing lazy circles on the silk sheets.
For once, she wasn’t surrounded by fawning attendants or over-curious students.
Her thoughts were elsewhere.
We’re here now, Aiden.
Arcadia Academy. The very place where legends were born.
And she was here beside him — Aiden Everhart.
Not just her childhood friend. Not just the heir to the Everhart ducal line. But Aiden. The one constant in her life.
They had grown up together under the Everhart estate’s sprawling skies. Her family, sworn vassals to the Everharts, had ensured her upbringing was near his. Study, etiquette, swordplay, magic lessons — she followed him through all of it.
Always just a step behind. Always watching.
And now they were both first-years in Class A, exactly as she had always imagined it.
It’s perfect.
She let out a small, satisfied breath.
Aiden had grown stronger — more mature. His golden hair had beco brighter under the Academy sun. His calm, kind nature hadn’t changed, even when surrounded by the whispers of noble daughters and admirers.
Of course, she made sure none of them got too close.
He was hers, after all. Her Aiden.
But her smile faltered for the briefest second.
That boy.
Luca Von Valentine.
The na was barely known.
She had heard whispers. One of the minor nobles from a fading house. Reserved. Unremarkable.
But then ca that class.
Professor Seraphina had asked him a question — sothing complex, layered, sothing that should’ve stumped any first year.
Even she hadn’t known the answer.
She, Lilianne Fairmoore — a prodigy of elental magic. Affinity across all five basic elents and even the elites. The youngest confird wielder of multi-path sequences. Praised by magi and archons alike.
And yet... Luca had answered. Calmly. Accurately. Too accurately.
Seraphina’s reaction was clear. Interest. Surprise.
It annoyed her. Just a little.
But only for a mont.
He doesn’t matter.
She wasn’t here for distractions. She wasn’t here for comparisons.
She was here for Aiden.
To walk beside him. To support him. To protect him — even if he never asked for it.
And then the next morning arrived.
As the training field ward under the soft blue light of mana crystals, Lilianne turned a corner, expecting Aiden — and instead, she saw him.
Luca Von Valentine.
Standing there.
A practice blade in hand.
Expression steady.
Waiting.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
What are you up to now...?
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