"The main character is so cool like always." A young teenager said while kicking up his feet, lying down in the hospital bed.
This was the next-to-last chapter of his favorite novel, which he always read on his phone since he couldn't leave the hospital. He enjoyed the fantasy world he launched into each time he read it.
The novel he was reading was named "An Unfortunate World"—a clearly sad title, but the characters and the feelings he had while reading were the opposite.
The main character, Lucian Liebe, was the hero everyone loved in the fantasy world—a person the young teenager wished he could have been.
Since he had been in the hospital since childhood, he was envious of the main character, even though it was just fiction.
The characters lived happily, despite being in a world full of mysterious monsters with unknown origins, because of the group called "Bloody Knights," which the young teen always cherished.
The heroes were stronger than the villains in that story.
"Whatever. Tomorrow the final chapter will drop," the teenager said in a stoic tone, since he didn't have much time left.
The next day.
Ping.
His phone got a message that a new chapter had been posted, and he opened it instantly.
"What?" the teenager said as he read it.
The author of "An Unfortunate World" had always been known for sad endings where the main character loses all his friends to save the world, but this was different.
The main party was killed without exception by the main antagonist.
"I'm sure Lucian will get a power-up to kill him with one attack," the teenager hoped inside as he read further.
Krghhh.
Lucian's right arm was ripped off in one move by the antagonist.
Slash.
His other arm.
He was left alive to watch his comrades die in front of his eyes.
"STOPPP! Please…." Lucian got on his knees, crying for the first time ever.
The main antagonist leaned near Lucian's ear and whispered:
"Don't worry, I will make sure they die painless."
Lucian's head was cut off.
The teenager felt uncomfortable as he read this part.
He had expected a grim outcome, but killing off the main character like an insect?
Wasn't this just poor writing?
The chapter ended, describing how a giant bloody spear slowly fell upon the capital of the kingdom and how everybody just watched the inevitable.
There was a video document at the end.
"What's this? Maybe a message from the author." He clicked on the video.
A deep voice and a shadowy figure, which couldn't be clearly seen, appeared.
"Did you enjoy the massacre, dear reader?"
"If you were in this world, could you change the inevitable?" it asked, curious.
Then it began giggling and laughing in a childish tone, and a pair of sharp white teeth could be seen.
"Ah, silly me, of course not. Because you can't dodge the inevitable. It's in the word itself."
It spoke with pity in its tone.
Then came closer.
"Look at you lying there. Are you surprised?" it asked the young teenager.
"What the…" The teenager threw his phone, which broke.
He was panting in shock.
"This must have been a coincidence. Shit. I broke my phone." He regretted what he did because of some silly video message.
"But who was this? Must have been the author, since he knew we were readers, right? And the other readers must be shocked as well."
The teenager felt a sharp pain in his heart all of a sudden.
He knew he would die soon, but was this just pure coincidence?
He closed his eyes, afraid and unsure.
He held out his hands.
"Mom… Dad… help." His heart stopped while a tear flowed down his cheek.
The moment his heart stopped beating, he saw nothing for a second. Then, as if out of nowhere, he held his hand out.
"Why's my arm so short?" he thought.
There was a man with black hair resting on his forehead, smiling kindly.
He looked handsome, with blue-purple eyes that fit his sharp features. He wore noble-looking clothes in deep blue with silver accessories.
The woman holding him looked kind as well. She had a warmer look compared to the man. Long golden hair, bright blue eyes, and a simple white dress with flower prints. No accessories.
The woman spoke with a blush and a warm tone.
"Say mama." She looked at him with wide eyes.
"What the…" the baby thought.
"Did I get reborn???" he thought again as he watched the two unknown people look at him with warm, open eyes.
He had no choice but to accept his fate. So, he decided to just play along as a baby.
"Ma... mama." the baby said, blushing in embarrassment.
The woman's pupils had heart shapes in them now because her baby looked too cute saying "mama."
"I can't believe that I'm acting like a baby…" the baby thought, embarrassed.
Of course, the man joined in.
"Say papa." the man said, curious and soft.
"P... papa." the baby said, pretending it was hard to say.
"Don't ever forget that you're from the Silver family. Be proud of it…" the man said in a more serious tone.
"How should we name him?" the woman asked in an excited tone.
"I want him to live free and see the world…"
The man thought for a moment.
"Atlas… Let's name him Atlas."
The woman looked happy with the choice of name and looked at the baby in her arms.
"You're Atlas Silver." She smiled at him.
"That's a pretty cool name," Atlas thought.
He smiled at his parents to show he liked the name, which made them happy.
But—
"Wait, where am I? Is this Earth? Which year is it?" Atlas thought, nervous.
4 years later.
Atlas Silver was now 4 years old. He was sitting in his large chamber, which had a high ceiling.
The room looked like a noble's room, full of detailed work—flowers, golden decor, and a king-sized bed.
He sat at a table with a notebook, thinking about the information he had gathered about the world he'd been reborn into.
What he learned over the past four years surprised him.
He always listened to his parents talking. They didn't hold back, because who thinks a newborn can understand them?
This planet was currently in the year 714. Everyone spoke English, so Atlas first thought this was a parallel universe. But this definitely wasn't Earth.
He had proof:
Magic existed and defied physics.
No known Earth nations existed here.
Strange monsters roamed with unclear motives.
A blue hologram appeared whenever he said "system."
At first, he thought the system was unique to him. But he heard his father, Lior Silver, and mother, Seraphine Silver, use it too.
Though he couldn't see the other persons system.
His parents were nobles—that was clear from the house and servants—but not high-ranking ones.
They were retired knights. They'd stopped working when Atlas was born, having earned enough to live comfortably.
Still, the Silver family wasn't looked down on, since both parents had high ranks during their service.
Atlas didn't know if he was in a novel or game he once read. The setting was familiar. Maybe An Unfortunate World? But that novel never mentioned the Silver family.
"System," Atlas whispered.
[Name: Atlas Silver]
Strength: 3
Agility: 3
Intelligence: 5
Skills: none
Trait: none
Class: frail person[→ user gets injured/sick more easily and takes longer to heal]
Atlas sighed. His class was garbage.
Why did he get this?
Maybe it was because he was frail in his past life too. Was his soul just frail?
He hadn't worked out his body yet. He just wanted more information.
"Winslow!" Atlas shouted.
Seconds later, a knock.
"Yes, young master. How can I help?" Winslow said softly.
Winslow was Atlas's personal servant. An old man with slicked-back hair, straight posture, dressed in black and white butler attire.
Atlas found him suspicious. His eyes were usually closed, like a sly fox.
But he hadn't done anything wrong, so maybe Atlas was just paranoid.
"Bring me the daily milk with honey and today's newspaper from the kingdom's capital," Atlas said directly.
He always drank milk hoping for stronger bones, but this was the first time he asked Winslow for the newspaper.
Winslow paused, smirked slightly.
"Your wish is my command, young master," he said in a low tone, then left.
Atlas shivered.
"That terrifying man…" he thought.
Minutes later, another knock.
"Yes… come in," Atlas said, knowing it was Winslow.
Winslow entered with a warm glass of milk and a rolled-up newsletter.
He placed them on the table and looked at Atlas curiously.
"Is there anything else, young master?" Winslow asked.
"No. You can go now." Atlas answered, spinning a feathered ink pen in his hand.
Winslow left. Atlas opened the newsletter with curiosity.
He dropped it as he read the title.
He bit his lip until it bled.
The inked feather was now stabbed deep into his thigh, staining his clothes a crimson deep red.
"...This can't be right."