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 wasnât a dream. No screen, no keyboard, no respawn timer.
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 something? Saving someone? Helping Aiden? Avoiding him? Iâ"
He clenched the journal.
Back then, my life...
The memory came unbidden. A small apartment. Stale ramen. Faint streetlights through cracked curtains. Silence, always.
Born in an orphanage. Adopted when he was six. Given a new name, 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 game.
"I didnât even live back there, did I?"
He laughed bitterly. It wasnât sad. It wasnât 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. Names 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 donât 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 Seraphinaâs radar. Find a quiet town. Open a bakery. Raise a cat.
But that was a lie too.
He wouldnât be able to rest. Not with everything he knew.
His eyes drifted to the journal.
But what I saw in there...
He hadnât even reached the halfway mark.
Yet the contents already gnawed at him.
Like whispers from the dark corners of memory.
A timeline that shouldnât exist.
Names that shouldnât be known.
And most of allâ
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 t
he ritual site.
A bug. A
n afterthought.
And yet...
Somethingâs wrong. That deathâwas it truly pointless?
Luca looked at his hands.
Steady now. But trembling on the inside.
"It canât be. Right?"
He glanced at the journal.
What I read... itâs 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 wasnât 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 wasnât a dream. It couldnât be. Every line on their faces, every flick of emotion in their eyes â this was reality.
And seeing them here â characters he guided, fought beside, cried over â his heart didnât know whether to burst or retreat.
Part of him wanted to run to them. To shout their names like an old friend. To laugh with Kyle, to duel with Selene, to tease Lilianne, to speak with Aiden like he had a thousand times before.
But that wasnât his place. Not yet.
He clutched the bedsheets, willing himself to stay still.
"Gods, Iâm just barely holding myself back."
He covered his face with both hands.
"Everyone else who gets isekaiâd at least knows what theyâre supposed to do. Get close to the hero? Become the villain? Change the ending? They have direction."
He laughed softly. Bitter.
"Me? Iâm just as pathetic as ever. No plan. No clue. No role."
A knock came at the door.
Luca flinched, quickly setting the journal aside. When he opened the door, no one was there â only a sealed envelope resting on the floor.
He picked it up, puzzled.
His breath caught as he read the senderâs name.
Mother & Father.
His hands shook.
He tore it open and unfolded the letter.
Dear Luca,
We hope your first few days at the Academy havenât been too overwhelming. Itâs a strange place, and youâve always had a way of getting lost in your own head. But weâre proud of you. Truly.
No matter how things go, no matter what happens â remember, you donât 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. Thatâs all we want â for you to live a life that feels yours.
Weâll be waiting when you come home for break. With your favorite stew. And yes, Iâll even make the cake this time.
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 time since arriving in this world â it felt real.
He had parents now.
Even if this wasnât his world â it didnât matter.
Because it had given him something the last one never had.
I donât know what my purpose is here,
he thought.
Maybe Iâm just a bug in the story. Maybe Iâm still nobody.
But if I get a chance to live... then I want to live.
Truly.
He wiped his eyes.
"Even if I donât know what my role is... I at least know one thing."
His voice trembled â soft, but resolute.
"I donât want to die again."
He took a deep breath.
"I donât know if I should help Aiden, or avoid him completely. I donât even know if this world is going to kick me out tomorrow."
He stared at the ceiling.
"But Iâm done just sitting here. If nothing else... I should train. Prepare. Build myself up. If Iâm destined to die in Arc Three, then Iâll 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 movements had faded into a relaxed stillness, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other tracing lazy circles on the silk sheets.
For once, she wasnât surrounded by fawning attendants or over-curious students.
Her thoughts were elsewhere.
Weâre here now, Aiden.
Arcadia Academy. The very place where legends were born.
And she was here beside him â 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 estateâs sprawling skies. Her family, sworn vassals to the Everharts, had ensured her upbringing was near his. Study, etiquette, swordplay, magic lessons â 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.
Itâs perfect.
She let out a small, satisfied breath.
Aiden had grown stronger â more mature. His golden hair had become brighter under the Academy sun. His calm, kind nature hadnât 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 name was barely known.
She had heard whispers. One of the minor nobles from a fading house. Reserved. Unremarkable.
But then came that class.
Professor Seraphina had asked him a question â something complex, layered, something that shouldâve stumped any first year.
Even she hadnât known the answer.
She, Lilianne Fairmoore â a prodigy of elemental magic. Affinity across all five basic elements and even the elites. The youngest confirmed wielder of multi-path sequences. Praised by magi and archons alike.
And yet... Luca had answered. Calmly. Accurately. Too accurately.
Seraphinaâs reaction was clear. Interest. Surprise.
It annoyed her. Just a little.
But only for a moment.
He doesnât matter.
She wasnât here for distractions. She wasnât here for comparisons.
She was here for Aiden.
To walk beside him. To support him. To protect him â even if he never asked for it.
And then the next morning arrived.
As the training field warmed under the soft blue light of mana crystals, Lilianne turned a corner, expecting Aiden â 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...?