Moretti floated in an endless void, a strange sensation of coolness and warmth swirling around him, stretching on for what felt like an eternity. Is this really death? he wondered. No flames, no judgment, just an oppressive silence and the crushing weight of his thoughts.

His mind turned over the shattered remnants of his life, dissecting every wrong move, every horrific thing he’d done. And always, the betrayal. He couldn’t let that one go. His most trusted friend, the man who’d stood at his side for decades, had sold him out. All for a woman. The moment she had appeared in their lives, Moretti had known she was trouble. But had he acted? No. He could have, should have, but he hadn’t. And now, here he was—adrift in the abyss—while his treacherous friend was probably next in line for the firing squad.

No one escaped betrayal like that. His empire, the drug syndicate they had built from the ground up, wouldn’t let the man live long. Witness protection was a joke against something that powerful. Moretti took a grim comfort in that. At least his friend’s days were numbered. Still, a bitter ache gnawed at him. He wished he could be the one to settle the score, to be the hand that delivered justice. What a waste.

Then, something changed.

It was subtle at first, just a slight tug, but it grew stronger, pulling him out of the void like a hand grasping his soul. It felt like the gates of Hell had creaked open, and something ancient and malevolent was yanking him through. A searing heat consumed him—intense, even though he had no body to burn. His very essence screamed, but no sound came. The agony was endless, and just as unbearable.

And then… it stopped.

Moretti’s senses flooded back, disoriented and sluggish, but undeniably there. He felt something. A body. His body. His eyelids fluttered open, his vision blurry, swimming in unfamiliar light. Slowly, the shapes around him sharpened. A small room came into view. Two women. Two men. One, a doctor by the looks of it. The others…

The woman holding him caught his attention first. She was striking—blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her deep blue eyes locked on him with a mix of exhaustion and wonder. Though her beauty was undeniable, her face was lined with the unmistakable weariness of childbirth. Beside her stood a man, tall and lean, his posture unmistakably that of a warrior. His black hair was neatly combed, but his scarred face told the story of battles fought. One scar ran across his neck, another slashed diagonally across his cheek. His green eyes flickered with pride as they focused on Moretti.

They’re looking at me, he realized. Watching me.

Something was horribly wrong. His body felt weak, fragile, nothing like the powerful form he’d once inhabited. With tremendous effort, he raised a hand—small, tiny fingers trembling in the air before his face.

What the hell?

The realization hit him like a freight train. These hands—they weren’t his. This body wasn’t his. The woman holding him? She wasn’t a nurse or a caretaker. She was his mother. The man standing beside her? His father. They weren’t strangers. They were his new parents.

I’ve been reborn.

It was impossible, absurd, and yet the evidence was right in front of him. His mind raced, struggling to reconcile this truth. Reincarnation? A second chance? No… this wasn’t supposed to happen to someone like him. He had ruled an empire. He had lived a life of power and violence. And now… now he was a helpless infant.

The doctor spoke to his new parents, the language flowing from their mouths foreign and unfamiliar. Concern edged their voices, but Moretti couldn’t focus on what was being said. His thoughts were spinning, his head reeling with the enormity of what had happened.

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Exhaustion tugged at him, far too powerful to resist. His eyes, heavy with disbelief and fatigue, slowly closed again.

Three months. Three months since I’d been reborn. The strangest part? I still couldn't get these damn legs to work right. Sure, I was trying my best, but motor control wasn't something that comes easily when you're stuffed back into a baby’s body. I might not be able to walk yet, but I could understand the language now. That was a small victory, at least.

My new parents—yeah, that was a concept I was still trying to get used to—were decent people from what I could tell. Leana Hale, my mother, worked as a teacher at the local school, though I had no idea what she taught. Meanwhile, Maelor Hale, my father, worked as a guard in this small city called Gardor. They had named me Azaroth—or "Az" as they affectionately called me. Azaroth Hale. The name had a strange, weighty feel to it. It wasn’t the name I was born with in my previous life, but I was getting used to it. Everything here was different—no technology, no modern conveniences. Just wood, stone, and people doing everything the old-fashioned way. This world wasn’t anything like the one I used to know.

Right now, I was sitting outside our home, taking in the view. It was… stunning. We lived on the edge of a mountain town, the house a good twenty meters from the edge of a cliff. According to my father—spoken to me in that horribly condescending baby voice—the drop was around three kilometers deep. Three kilometers? And he talked about it like it wasn’t a big deal. That’s when it hit me: the scale of this world was much larger than I thought. If a three-kilometer cliff wasn’t impressive, how big were the mountains here? I couldn’t help but get excited at the prospect of exploring it all.

Our house was small, made of rough-hewn wood that blended into the lush greenery of the mountain town. It was cozy enough, but something about its simplicity made me feel like we were just a small speck in a much larger world.

I watched as my father trained near the cliff’s edge, sword flashing in the sunlight as he worked up a sweat. He wasn’t just training. He was showing off. I could feel it. He’d pause every now and then, turning just enough to make sure I was watching. And of course, he’d say things like, “You know, Az, when you grow up, I’ll teach you everything I know. You’ll be even better than your old man.”

The thought of becoming a warrior stirred something inside me. On Earth, everything felt so mundane. People worked meaningless jobs for a paycheck, spent most of their lives sleeping, and had so little time to actually live. That’s why I started my drug empire back then. It wasn’t about the money—not really. It was about the thrill, the challenge of outsmarting authorities. It made life feel… alive. The idea of becoming a warrior in this new world? Now that was something to look forward to. A real challenge. One that might actually be worthy of me.

And then it happened.

Dad finished his routine, laid down his sword, and wiped the sweat from his brow. When he got back up, instead of reaching for the sword, he just pointed his hand at it. The blade flew across the air straight into his palm. I blinked. What the hell…? Was that telekinesis? My jaw nearly dropped.

He glanced at me, smirking like he’d just performed a trick for a wide-eyed child. "You like that, huh?" he said, still in that unbearable baby voice. "That was magic, little one. Your daddy’s pretty amazing, isn’t he?"

Magic? My mind reeled. Magic is real in this world? I was stunned, trying to process what I’d just seen. This was beyond anything I had ever imagined. A part of me wanted to dismiss it, to think this was all some strange dream, but I knew it wasn’t. I had to find out more.

Over the next few weeks, I became obsessed with learning everything I could about magic. The first thing I had to do was get these legs working again. Walking was easy enough—once you’ve walked before, it’s not hard to remember. My parents were overjoyed, completely unaware that I wasn’t just some genius toddler, but a fully-grown mind trapped in a baby’s body.

The real challenge, though, was information. Our house had a few books—nothing grand like a library, just a handful of volumes. Apparently, books were rare and expensive here since everything had to be handwritten. But there was one book that caught my eye: Introduction to the Magic World.

Of course, it belonged to my father, Maelor Hale, and from the way my mother treated it, this book was incredibly valuable. I figured my father had attended some sort of magical academy in his younger days and had kept it ever since. The book wasn’t long, but it was the only real source of information I had, so I focused on learning to read quickly. I had to be discreet, though.

My parents thought I was just playing with the books. They scolded me at first, afraid I’d damage them, but once they saw how careful I was, they stopped worrying. They had no clue that I was already reading fluently, and I didn’t plan to let them know. Not yet.

The first chapter of the book talked about the origin of magic in this world, Geneva. No one really knew how magic came to be, but one popular theory suggested that this world had once been ruled by gods and mythical creatures. Long ago, the gods waged war against each other, and the aftershocks of that battle were what we now called mana. Mana was everywhere, an invisible force that permeated the world. But only one in ten thousand people could actually harness it, storing mana in their core.

One in ten thousand? I muttered to myself. That’s… not great odds.

The book went on to describe the anatomy of magic users. Mana was stored in a core with three layers: Essence, Mantle, and Shell. The Essence was where mana resided, the Mantle kept it from leaking, and the Shell protected the core from breaking during combat. Then, there were the mana channels—seventeen points interconnected throughout the body, all starting at the Essence.

I had barely made it to the second page when my mother walked in and snatched the book from me. “Az, don’t play with this,” she scolded gently. “It’s very valuable. Your father will need to return it one day, and if we lose it, we’ll be in serious debt.”

Talking to me like I’m some helpless child, I thought, even though technically… I was. But still, I understood her perfectly. More than she knew. I watched her leave, noting exactly where she placed the book. I’d find it again later. No question about that.

But for now, I could feel a yawn creeping up, my baby body betraying me. As my eyelids grew heavy, I let my mind wander. Magic, mana, warriors… this world was so different from Earth, and it was full of mysteries waiting to be unraveled. I wasn’t just going to survive here.

I was going to conquer it.