Ren opened his eyes.
He was back in Tokyo.
The smell of concrete and rain filled his nose. Neon lights reflected off wet asphalt, blurring into long streaks of color as people passed him by without looking. His body felt heavy, smaller than he remembered—thin arms, weak legs, shoulders hunched as if the world itself had pressed him down.
It wasn't a dream.
It was his life.
The alley was the same one he walked through every day. Torn school bag slung over his shoulder. Shoes worn thin at the soles. Bruises still aching beneath his uniform from earlier.
"Hey, poor rat."
The voice echoed from behind him.
Ren froze.
Three shadows stretched across the ground. Older boys. Bigger. Stronger. One kicked the back of his knee, forcing him down. Another laughed while grabbing his collar.
"Your grandma still alive?" one sneered. "Or did she finally die from working too hard for trash like you?"
Ren clenched his fists—but didn't fight back.
He never did.
Because he was weak.
They pushed him to the ground. Kicked his ribs. Spat on him. Walked away laughing, like they always did.
The alley emptied.
Rain began to fall.
Ren lay there, staring at the dark sky between the buildings, chest burning, eyes empty.
This is all I am.
Weak at school.
Weak on the road home.
Weak when his parents died.
Weak when he couldn't protect anyone.
The memories flooded in violently.
His mother dying after childbirth.
His father screaming as he was dragged away, framed, beaten, executed in public.
His uncle's smile—cold and satisfied.
His grandmother's tired back.
His little sister's frightened eyes.
And then—
Blood.
Fire.
Screams.
His grandmother and sister lying still, butchered like animals.
Ren's chest tightened.
"I couldn't save them…" he whispered.
His vision blurred.
"I was weak then… and I'm weak now."
The rain stopped.
Someone stood in front of him.
Small hands reached out.
Warm.
Ren slowly lifted his head.
She was there.
His mother.
Uninjured. Smiling gently, just like the faint memory he carried in his heart. Her eyes were kind. Sad. Loving.
"Ren," she said softly.
His lips trembled. "M-Mom…?"
She knelt before him, brushing his hair back the way she used to in dreams he barely remembered.
"You've suffered enough," she said. "But you don't get to decide that you're weak."
Ren swallowed. "I failed. I failed everyone. Even now… even after being reborn… I'm still useless."
She smiled wider.
"Then stand up anyway."
Her hand rested over his chest.
"Be a man, Ren."
The world shattered.
Ren woke up screaming.
Air tore past his body.
For half a second, he didn't understand anything—only the feeling of falling.
Below him: endless forest. Broken terrain. Jagged stone.
Above him: sky.
I'm in the air—?!
There was no time to think.
Instinct took over.
Ice exploded from his feet.
CRACK—!
Solid ice steps formed beneath him mid-fall, shattering as he landed and launched again. Another step. Then another. Each one forming and breaking in a heartbeat as his momentum carried him downward.
Wind wrapped around his body.
Ren twisted, spotting Lira and Kian tumbling nearby—unconscious, bodies limp, spinning helplessly through the air.
"No—!"
He pushed harder.
Wind magic flared violently, forcing his body sideways through the air. Ice formed beneath his feet again, propelling him forward like stairs made for a god.
He reached Lira first.
Ren grabbed her arm, yanking her against his chest just as another ice platform shattered beneath them. His mana screamed in protest.
Kian—!
He twisted again, forcing wind beneath him like invisible hands. Ice cracked. Fire flared briefly at his back—not as an attack, but as thrust.
He caught Kian by the collar an instant before gravity reclaimed him.
All three of them were falling again.
Ren's breathing grew ragged.
Too fast.
Too high.
Too little mana left.
Think.
His mind raced.
Ice condensed rapidly in front of them—not steps this time, but a cone. Wind compressed behind it. Fire ignited at the rear.
A jet.
The ice screamed as it formed, thicker than anything he had ever created. Wind wrapped around it, stabilizing the structure for just a moment.
"Hold on," Ren whispered—though neither of them could hear him.
Fire erupted.
The jet shot upward violently, ripping through the air like a spear. Ren's arms screamed as he held onto both of them, muscles tearing, mana draining faster than he thought possible.
His vision darkened.
The sky tilted.
Ahead—
a mountain.
He angled the jet with the last of his strength, wind screaming in protest as the ice structure cracked and began to fail.
They slammed into the mountain slope.
Hard.
The ice shattered instantly.
The impact sent all three of them tumbling across stone and dirt before finally coming to a stop among broken rocks and scorched earth.
Silence.
Ren lay on his back, chest heaving, arms numb, mana completely empty. His vision blurred, the sky spinning slowly above him.
He turned his head weakly.
Lira lay a few feet away, breathing shallowly.
Kian was farther downslope, bloodied—but alive.
Ren exhaled.
"I… did it…"
His eyelids grew heavy.
The world faded.
One by one, all three of them lost consciousness on the cold mountainside—unaware of what had just awakened inside Ren… or what had noticed him from beyond this world.