I never asked to be born again.
For the first sixteen years of my life in this world, I was just Noah Everett—the youngest child of Viscount Gerald Everett. I lived in a stone manor tucked between thick forests and silver lakes, where knights trained in the courtyard and maids lit the lanterns before sunset. The winters were cold, the halls were colder, but my home was warm.
Because I wasn't alone.
I had a family.
My father wasn't one of those cruel nobles who ruled with an iron fist. He was stern, yes, but never cold. His hand was steady, his expectations clear, and his voice softened when he spoke to us—not as vassals, but as his children. My mother, Lady Mireille, was the kind of woman who could silence a room with a look, but always tucked my hair behind my ear when I sulked, even if I didn't say what was wrong.
And then there were my siblings.
Liana was the eldest, already eighteen and training under a court tutor to be the family's political mind. Sharp-tongued and graceful, but she always saved me the last honey cake on her plate.
Elias, my brother, was seventeen—just one year older than me. A natural with the sword, stronger than me in every way, but never once made me feel small for it. He taught me footwork behind the stables when no one was watching.
Then there was Alina, twelve, always getting into trouble, always stealing my books, and always the first to throw her arms around me when I came back from lessons.
They all loved me.
I knew it now. I'd always felt it—but now, with my memories returned, I understood it even more.
Because in my last life, I had no one.
I lived in a cramped apartment above a convenience store. Worked ten hours a day dispatching deliveries for a logistics company. Came home, ate microwave food, stared at screens. My parents had passed when I was young. No siblings. No real friends. Just coworkers I spoke to during lunch and faces I recognized from my commute.
There were no birthday cakes. No warm dinners. No one to tell me they were proud of me.
So when I collapsed at my desk one night, heart stuttering, vision blurring, I didn't panic. I didn't cry. I just leaned back in my chair and let it happen.
I was twenty-six.
And I died without leaving anything behind.
But now…
Now I had something.
On the morning of my sixteenth birthday, I woke up drenched in sweat, head pounding, chest tight like something had burst open inside me. I thought I was sick. Thought I was dying again.
Then the memories hit me.
Like a flood.
Images. Sounds. Feelings. All of it crashing down like a dream I'd forgotten for too long.
And when it was over, I lay in bed, staring at the wooden ceiling above me, breathing hard.
"I'm alive."
It wasn't a question. It was a fact.
I looked around my room—books stacked in the corner, clothes neatly folded by the dresser. The scent of old wood, lavender soap, and parchment ink filled the air.
This is real.
This wasn't some afterlife fantasy. I had lived here for sixteen years. I'd grown up playing hide and seek with Alina in the hallways. I'd sparred with Elias until my arms gave out. I'd sat beside Liana as she taught me how to write calligraphy letters. I'd listened to my mother's humming voice while she sewed by the fire.
I'd lived, and I had been loved.
And that alone made me want to protect this life more than anything.
Then something new appeared.
Floating in the air in front of me, faint but impossible to miss:
___
•— SYSTEM ONLINE —•
Welcome, Noah Everett
•— Memory Sync Complete —•
— SKILLS UNLOCKED —
• [Summoning Circle: Core Tier]
• [Interface Assist: Activated]
•— Status • Inventory • Log • Map •
___
It blinked gently, like it was waiting for me to do something.
My breath caught.
It was like a smartphone mashed with a game HUD, except this wasn't Earth. And I was sure—no one else in this world had something like this. I could move it with my thoughts. Bring up a basic map of the manor, open a log that tracked everything I'd done for the past two days, even write notes.
I kept it secret, of course. I smiled through the family dinner that night, acted surprised when they brought out the cake, hugged Alina when she made me a crooked wooden pendant with our family crest on it. I let my mother brush my hair and my father pat my shoulder with his usual quiet pride.
But later that night, when the manor fell quiet, I locked my door.
And I selected the skill:
[Summoning Circle: Core Tier]
The air shifted.
A glowing ring appeared on the floor, pulsing with symbols I'd never seen before but instinctively understood. Like muscle memory I never earned.
___
•— Summoning Initiated —•
Type: Randomized Companion
Rarity: Unknown
Loyalty: Permanent
Warning: First summon is bound for life. Continue?
___
> Yes | No
___
I didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
Then another notification appeared infront of me.
___
•— Notice —•
Your summoned companion will arrive at your residence within 24 hours.
Status: Slave by default. Ownership permanent unless manually released.
___
I didn't sleep that night.
Even with the window closed and the fire low, I lay there staring at the wooden beams above me, heart thudding with a rhythm that wouldn't settle.
Twenty-four hours.
That's what the system said. One day before some unknown girl, someone I was "bound to for life," appeared out of nowhere. As a slave.
And that word—it bothered me. "Slave."
I don't know what I expected. A companion? Sure. A friend? Maybe. But slavery? Permanent ownership?
It left a taste in my mouth I couldn't swallow. In this world, it wasn't unusual. Nobles bought and sold people all the time, especially criminals and war prisoners. But even if I was raised here… I wasn't from here.
I still remembered my last life too clearly.
I remembered being just another face in the crowd. Being tired all the time. Working late nights for bosses who saw me as replaceable. I remembered collapsing and no one noticing until morning.
No one should belong to anyone.
Not even me.
And yet, I still said yes.
Because I was scared. Because this system—whatever it was—was part of me now. And if I ignored it, if I turned away from the only power I had in this world, I'd be wasting this second chance.
So I waited.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Time crawled.
In the morning, I joined my family for breakfast. Liana talked about trade negotiations. Elias teased Alina for spilling juice on her dress. My mother asked me about my sleep.
I lied.
I smiled and said I'd dreamed of flying.
And all the while, I felt it. That invisible countdown, ticking just behind my thoughts. Quiet. Icy. Unrelenting.
Evening came.
I went to my room early. Said I was tired from training. No one questioned it. My father patted my shoulder. Alina hugged me so hard it knocked the wind out of me.
Then I shut the door and waited.
___
•— Notice —•
Slave merchant has arrived at your doorstep. You can claim your slave now.
___
A knock came seconds later—three soft raps against the heavy oak door of my room.
I flinched.
That's fast.
I rose slowly, heart thudding in my chest like it was trying to escape. Every part of me screamed that this wasn't normal. This was too smooth. Too convenient.
I opened the door.
And standing there was a man I'd never seen before. Middle-aged, sharp suit, graying beard trimmed with care, and the kind of thin smile that never reached his eyes.
"Good evening, young master Everett," he said, with the smooth confidence of someone who'd done this many times. "Your father summoned me this morning. He mentioned it was for your sixteenth birthday. I bring with me a selection of high-quality slaves."
I blinked. "Wait. My father…?"
"Yes. The Viscount made the request personally. Said you'd be of age today, and that it was time you were given a proper gift." The merchant held up a scroll, tied with a ribbon in House Everett's colors. "Signed and sealed."
He really did call him.
But it wasn't for the system. My father didn't know anything about that. He just—he just wanted to do what most nobles did. Buy a companion for their son, maybe someone to serve or protect me. Nothing new. Nothing strange.
And the system… it took that moment. That opportunity. It hijacked the whole thing like it was scripted. Like it had been waiting.
My skin prickled.
It didn't create the merchant. It didn't conjure him out of thin air. It just used him. Redirected whatever poor soul he was already planning to sell and twisted it to fit its own rules.
I swallowed.
The merchant smiled, clearly mistaking my silence for awe or approval. "She's a rare find, this one. Unbranded, unbroken, but healthy and strong. Picked her up two weeks ago on the southern border—some mix of local peasantry and...something else. Hard to say. But I assure you, she's clean, obedient, and yours for life."
Something about the way he said that last part made my stomach twist.
Yours for life.
It matched the system's words exactly.
Bound for life.
I didn't know what kind of girl was waiting down there. I didn't even know her name. But in that moment, I realized—
Neither did he.
The merchant was just another cog in this world's machinery. Just another man making money off bodies and ownership. He had no idea the system had piggybacked on his little business transaction. No idea that this wasn't just a slave delivery.
This was fate with a digital interface.
"Where is she?" I asked quietly.
"Waiting in the atrium," the merchant said, stepping aside. "Shall I bring her up?"
I hesitated.
Then nodded.
The merchant didn't wait for me to respond. With a flick of his hand, he turned and led me down the long corridor toward the atrium. I followed him in silence, the weight of what was about to happen pressing down on me like an unseen force.
My thoughts were still a jumbled mess of confusion and discomfort. My father had called for a slave, and the system had intercepted. There was no magic portal, no glowing ritual. But there was still a feeling that something had changed. Something big. And I wasn't sure whether I should be angry or afraid.
We reached the atrium.
The room was large, dimly lit by the moon through tall windows, and at the center, kneeling on the stone floor, was a woman. She wasn't looking up—her head was down, her hands bound loosely in front of her. She wore simple clothing, a faded brown tunic, but her body was covered in scars. Thin, jagged lines etched across her arms, legs, and neck. It was clear that she'd been through something terrible.
I froze, my eyes scanning her, trying to make sense of the situation.
The merchant cleared his throat, obviously proud of his "merchandise." "As you can see, she's been well-trained. She'll be loyal and obedient, just as the Viscount requested. She knows her place, and her silence is a bonus for many of my clients."
I felt the words like a punch to the gut.
Her silence. Was it forced? Was she really silent, or had the merchant simply chosen to make her speechless for convenience?
But before I could process the thoughts in my head, the familiar interface appeared again in front of me, the notification flashing with the details of my "companion."
___
•— Summoning Complete —•
___
•— Companion Details —•
Name: Unknown
Age: 18
Condition: Severely scarred. Physical trauma apparent.
Speech: Sealed
Loyalty: Permanent
___
I blinked, staring at the details. I hadn't expected this. She was older than me—eighteen. That was two years, but it felt like worlds apart. And the fact that her name was unknown… did that mean she'd never been given one? Or had she simply lost it?
I took a small step forward, my instincts pulling me closer despite the fear and the confusion roiling inside me.
The merchant, seemingly oblivious to the shift in atmosphere, clapped his hands together. "Well, go ahead, young master. She's yours now. Her loyalty is guaranteed."
I didn't respond to the merchant, my gaze still focused on the girl. She hadn't moved. I could see the scars now, more clearly in the light. They were deep, angry red marks—some fading, some fresh—and scattered across her arms, legs, neck, and even parts of her face. It looked as if someone had tried to break her, tried to destroy her.
I couldn't look away.
She didn't lift her head when I approached. She didn't speak.
Her hands were still bound, but her body—her whole presence—felt different. Subdued. Like a flickering candle too afraid to burn brightly.
Something tugged at me. I had a deep, gnawing need to understand who she was. What she had been through.
"Hey," I said, unsure of what to say. My voice sounded too loud in the stillness. I cleared my throat, then softened my tone. "Are you alright?"
For a long moment, she didn't respond. And then, very slowly, her head lifted.
Her eyes met mine.
And in those eyes, I saw everything: pain, fear, and something deeper. Something that seemed like hope—fragile, like glass on the verge of shattering.
For the first time since she'd appeared, she shifted—just slightly. Her lips parted, and a faint sound, barely a whisper, escaped her throat.
A moment passed.
And then… nothing. The seal on her speech was strong. I could tell immediately.
I could still see the effort in her face. The strain in her muscles as she tried to say something—anything.
But nothing came out.
I looked back at the merchant, confused. "What… do you mean, 'sealed'?"
The merchant gave a small shrug. "Oh, it's nothing permanent. A simple spell to ensure obedience. She won't speak unless you tell her to."
My stomach turned.
I wasn't sure if I should feel pity, anger, or some mix of both. The girl—whoever she was—had no name, no voice, and had been broken to the point where she couldn't even speak for herself.
I could feel the system watching me, the interface hovering in the corner of my vision, silent but waiting. Was I supposed to own her? Was I supposed to bind her to me, like the system had said?
I clenched my fists.
"Can she... can she be freed?" I asked, my voice soft but firm.
The merchant gave a brief chuckle. "Freed? I suppose that depends on you, young master. You've bought her, after all."
I took a step back, trying to ignore the sickening feeling in my chest. It was too much. The weight of this decision, the weight of ownership.
I wasn't ready for this.