"GGYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

Alfred jolted up as fast as he could. Wherever he was didn't matter, all he was thinking about was survival. Without a second thought he tried to activate HSM, but nothing happened.

This stressed him out, but he didn't dwell on it. If someone was looking at him right now, it may seem like he was hallucinating on some sort of psychoactive drug. A pale, skinny figure on the ground of a narrow alleyway was frantically looking around as if something was supposed to be there.

"???"

There was nothing. At least he couldn't see anything. When looking up, he saw something much more strange.

"The sky? How is that… oh."

His face turned from one of fear and determination, to that of a demon. His eyes were wide and the pupils were constricted, his face was perfectly calm, but even so you could tell the thoughts beneath such a tranquil mask had no reason imaginable to be there.

He sat there for a minute. If he moved, or even thought about acting upon his thoughts, horrible things might happen to him, or more realistically, the people around him.

All this anger came from a simple realization:

"I died."

This burning hunger for revenge was something not easily forgotten. Anybody would wish for death after what has happened. The torture that Alfred is now forced to live with would even drive tens of men insane if it were split between them, assuming there is no way to stop this curse other than living long enough to forget… "That… lunatic. I have to kill him! I need to!

…

"But… I can't. Not any more…"

For some reason, he chose to keep this anger. This seemed to have a physical effect on him.

Even after the pure, unadulterated fury had dissipated from his gaze, his face did not change. There was no emotion shown. There was now a permanent glare stuck to his face. Finally, the temperature that seemed to have dropped by ten degrees finally went back to normal.

Alfred sat back down, 'Lets process this information…'

In his mind Alfred was going through the memories of the body he had taken. For some reason, there weren't many. He knew his age and sex, which were 12 and male respectivley, but that was about it. This child seems to have lived on autopilot for his whole life, or…

*Growl~*

'Too hungry to process.'

Alfred gazed down at his dangerously skinny figure. The malnutrition was so bad that he now felt like he couldn't even move. It was like he had frozen up. "I have to eat. Now."

After a small struggle with the wall, he was back on his feet. Before he could do anything, Alfred needed food and water.

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And, for the first time, he stepped out into the light of a new world.

*Shua~*

…

…

At first it was ridiculously blinding, but he got used to it. Alfred observed that he was in the slums of a city.

People passed right by him without as much as a glance, as if his ghastly appearance was ordinary. Just as an observation Alfred was able to make after he woke up was that, so far, he always reincarnates into someone who has already died. The only reason he is still alive is due to some partial revitalization and sheer willpower.

Back to the city. The buildings around him were too close for him to make out how large it (the city) actually was, but he had already concluded that he wasn't in the future, or even modern day earth (or anything like it). There were barely any electrical lights, tools, or anything of the sort. Those that were were some odd steam-powered ones inside the few restaurants on the open market he had wandered his way to which was most likely provided by the government or some wealthy philanthropist.

In between the buildings and even inside of them lay quite a few pipes. The architecture and materials used are similar to that of the victorian age.

"*Sigh*"

'I won't be able to hold out much longer…' Alfred was walking around looking for a target and the feeling of death was getting to him. He would not be able to run, so it had to be leftovers.

…

He only had to wait a few minutes before the opportunity was presented. A small restaurant just dumped out some decent looking leftovers into their garbage.

Right as the employee went back inside, Alfred snuck right up and took the food. He took a fresh looking quarter eaten loaf of bread, a head of lettuce and, luckily, chicken. 'How the hell did that end up here…'

Still, that question didn't need to be answered. What mattered now was survival, and he needed safety for that. Behind the bin was a convenient series of alleyways, so Alfred scurried into there. A little while in, he sat on the ground and slowly began to eat, making sure to fully chew each bite. During this he drifted off into thought.

'So, do I need to rebrand my mind?' When he initially arrived in this world, he attempted to activate HSM, but obviously couldn't. Only one conclusion can arise from this, and that is that he must rebrand his mind with the same technique that gave it to his previous reincarnation in the first place. The way this is usually done is with the help of another person, but he'd have to attempt to do it on his own. 'It won't be too hard, I understand how it is done, but I wonder what'll happen if I change that part…'

When Alfred received the memories of Roma, it was like watching the most detailed movie possible (which was useless for this reincarnation, sadly). This allowed him to have access to information not normally accessible. For instance, Alfred could tell that there was an arbitrary step taken during the branding process Roma was put through where the officer assisting would implement the mental blocks for information. The problem is, nobody seemed to notice that this was replacing a possible step. Users with HSM are able to practice with it for positive effects, but in the last part of the branding, there seems to be a space open for an enhanced and/or more efficient link from the brand to the brain. From Alfred's perspective, it was easy to spot, but it is most likely impossible for someone not reliving another's life from an ethereal perspective to see clearly.

While he started organizing his thoughts, Alfred was already past most of the easy first steps required for the branding, and now he is basically at that last step that he must figure out.

'...'

Currently he stands (figuratively speaking) in his mind. Most of the brand is complete, now he has to connect it. A simple chord from the symbol and the brain would do the trick, 'I'll try this, though.'

The brand he spent hours in his mind creating started to tremble. He was forming a few new lines the brand began to reject. Disregarding this, he made more sprout from in and around that area. 'Shit! It doesn't like that!'

Alfred tried to multitask by controlling the original brand and the vine-like structures he was creating within it. Unsurprisingly, it turned out to be too tall a task for him to do alone. He was completely focused, which made him notice something strange.

A dot which started to form many lines appeared right in the center of it all. The brand was shaped like a galaxy and had many small parts of it which he was attempting to connect to each other while forming many connections to his brain, but a separate line was slowly creeping through his and down towards the connection he was attempting.

To his surprise, things started to calm down. Just then, he realized what had happened.

Right as all of the parts, more like stars, were connected with his vines, the brand initiated the connection on its own. As it finished the job, he instantly realized something. His control over how slow time flows and the levels of fatigue he would experience when activating HSM should be nearly on the level he was at as Roma, which is a lot for starting out.

'That's four years of work skipped… yeesh. And I still don't know if anything else will differ when I use it.'

Wasting no more time thinking Alfred stood up and started to stretch his limbs. In his near starving state he would have to be very careful in his rehabilitation. "I need to focus on building muscle. After that I'll figure out how to get myself out of this shithole…"