On the peak of Mount St. Peter, Italy, a cold breeze rustled some pine leaves, disturbing the quiet snow on top of them. Even though it was spring, the quirky mountain did not want to shed its last whiteness.

A foreign leaf blew in the wind; it flew uncontrolled, almost anarchic. Its path did not bow to common sense. Instead, it rocked back and forth, not bending to the will of the wind. Swirling and pushing, it goes over the roofs of unpretentious lodgings.

A few hundred people resided there, but none knew what would happen shortly after. It was just another chilly day of May for them. Global warming had yet to humble their home.

The leaf kept on its path, stubborn in its chase. Its shape did not belong to this era, but no one knew. It was unbothered, albeit tired. However, it could not relent, for the leaf was on a mission.

It traveled over the small town that would become the last bastion of humanity one day. It did somersaults where walls would be erected, the same walls that would hold off hordes of Demonic Beasts.

The leaf was tired. It had traveled far too long to get there.

But her wandering was almost over.

The leaf rode the wind and crossed the threshold of a classroom, landing on the nose of one of the students there.

…

Quintus Horatius Flaccus High School

Jacob sneezed himself awake, rubbing the tip of his nose. He jerked so loudly the whole classroom turned to look at him. His chair had almost fallen back; he quickly grabbed it and looked around. With wide, uncomprehending eyes, he slowly sat back.

Sixteen students were listening to a very old math teacher, Mr. Michelis.

Mr. Michelis?

The poor sweet guy was pushing seventy years old. Yet, he kept teaching because no one would replace him, and the school would be left without a math teacher. No one wanted to go to such a god-forgotten place for a meager high school teacher salary nowadays.

A few students chatted softly among themselves.

The topic of the discussion was the weird rift that split the clouds in the morning sky above.

Jacob overheard their words.

“Have you looked at the sky? I wonder if it has something to do with chemtrails or stuff like that.”

“It could be fighter jets doing some maneuvers above the city?”

“What maneuvers, you idiot. It’s probably just pollution. We have poisoned the Earth so badly it had to come to bite our asses sooner or later!”

Dear Mr. Michelis was so old that his hearing could hardly catch the whispering, even when directed at him.

Jacob turned toward a guy in the second row, a slightly familiar face.

“I will transfer next week! I cannot wait to leave this crappy school behind. That dude might die any second now. In Rome, I will finally be able to be among the best! I truly do not understand why my parents insisted on sending me here, to the middle of nowhere. Look at that old idiot. He is almost drooling! It’s disgusting!”

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That’s…

Joseph, son of two former St. Peter residents. His parents fell in love among the tall pines and between the cozy school desks of Horatius High. Later on, they became wildly rich and had a son; they sent him to their teenage high school, hoping that he would experience some of the romance they still dreamed of in their forties.

However, Joseph had been spoilt rotten since his birth. And he hated the place his parents had sent him to. So, finally, he had convinced them to let him go back to Rome. A few days more and he would never have to listen to the old crook rambling about logarithms again.

As Joseph kept insulting the teacher behind his back, Jacob, all the way at the back of the class, slowly came to a realization.

“I’m back,” Jacob whispered quietly.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly, blinking multiple times.

He was shocked to discover his black armor was gone. The relic had been nigh-indestructible: how could he have lost it without noticing? And – wait – was he wearing jeans?

Wait again, so was that really Mr. Michelis?

Was this his junior year of high school?

It worked! Goddammit, it worked!

Mr. Michelis was still explaining the lesson material he had prepared with utmost care the night before, oblivious to everything else.

Jacob turned his head to the side, where Francis sat half-asleep. The familiar face of his friend put tears in his eyes. Francis had carried him through the first phase of the world change. Without him, Jacob would have died ten thousand times over.

Only much later, after stumbling upon a great treasure, Jacob would become the mighty hero of humanity. But, unfortunately, Francis would be dead by then: his friend had died while trying to save him the day St. Peter fell for the very first time into the hands of Demonic Beasts.

“I’m really back,” Jacob’s voice was filled with emotion. It did not have the same deep edge of his past life, but it contained all the emotions of a new beginning. He now had the chance to right all the wrongs he had suffered in his past life, and to save his loved ones.

At that point, Jacob moved his gaze to the first row.

Her.

Only a few meters from him stood Helena. Even though she was only fifteen, she already looked stunning. Her bright green eyes were a contrast to her flawless pale skin. She looked extremely focused while taking notes from the blackboard. Her full lips mimicked silent words, trying to absorb as much as possible from their teacher, and removing a lock of her blonde hair blocking her sight.

She was the smartest student, a winner of national math competitions, a peerless woman stuck in this small pond.

One day she would grow up to become the most beautiful woman the whole human race would ever know.

She is alive. They are all alive.

He was grateful for his seat in the back row. Otherwise, someone could have noticed the tears he was failing to hold back.

Jacob almost jumped in excitement.

His mastery over time magic, along with the help of his Great Relic, had brought him back to this time.

The Great Relic that had brought him back was the Plate. He did not know its name, nor who created it or how it came to Earth. He only knew that he had been able to learn and wield time magic and much more thanks to it.

When it happened, he had been fighting the Black Dragon. Something in the Plate he always kept under his armor had activated. At that point, he had been fatally wounded, trying to fight off the Black Dragon and the Golden ones. But, somehow, the Plate had brought him back.

He still remembered wishing he could go back and change everything in that exact moment.

No one ever knew what happened to Earth and why all of a sudden Demonic Beasts appeared everywhere. Out of nowhere, humanity manifested a talent for magic and combat, as if the entire planet had been plunged into a universe governed by different laws.

People became warriors and mages. There had been incredible heroes and atrocious villains. Wars had wrecked the planet, even when humanity should have united once and for all. Then, at last, they had all succumbed to the beasts.

And there he was, back in his young body.

He still remembered Helena dying while he was fleeing St. Peter’s walls. She and Francis had protected him with their lives.

Despite becoming the greatest warrior on Earth later on, Jacob had been born with Crohn’s Disease. Since a young age, his body had been sick and frail. His guts could barely absorb any nutrients, which meant he was skinny and pale. Even his height had been affected, resulting in him being the shortest in his class.

And soon, he would need this sick and frail body to do a lot of work…

Suddenly, he heard a sound coming from outside. A car alarm had just gone off very close by.

It had just begun.