The villain's rebirth

Lucien jolted awake, heart racing, head ringing.

He felt disoriented—completely and utterly so.

He realized he seems to be laying on something soft, extremely soft may he add, he hasn't felt comfort like this in a ages, probably a lifetime.

As he groggily got up

something else hit him

He had shrunk.

He felt smaller. Noticeably weaker .

The moment he saw the old wall pattern, the 35th generation tech pad on his nightstand.

he knew.

He was back in his world.

But when ?

He rushed into the bathroom from memory, only to stop cold at the mirror.

A familiar stranger stared back at him.

Himself . But younger.

"His white hair fell slightly past his shoulders, ember eyes probing his reflection. His fair cheeks still held traces of baby fat."

He looked like a brat.

Well—a young noble gentleman, to be honest. He quickly corrected his inner insult, remembering whose reflection he was looking at.

And if his memory served him correctly, he couldn't be older than ten.

He stepped back into the bedroom, eyes scanning the room with sharp purpose. His gaze landed on the antique brown nightstand.

He rushed toward it, sat, and grabbed his tech pad.

Quill's outdated celestial computer briefly crossed his mind—and a smug grin tugged at his lips.

Until reality snapped back.

She may use a ridiculously ancient system, but she writes his world—and him. And with that same junky computer, she could erase both without breaking a sweat.

He let out a tired sigh at the sheer power in that whimsical celestial's hands.

He looked at his tech pad and saw today's date and his blood ran cold

He was eight again.

And today was the day his parents died.

*************************************

"No—" he whispered, already scrambling off the chair, feet flying.

He sprinted to the control room, ignoring the maids and servants who called after him.

Their questions were useless. He had no time for them.

His lungs burned by the time he reached the entrance.

He internally sighed the patheticness of this body.

And there she was.

His whole being screamed with disgust. Hate pulsed like venom through his veins.

If not for his flawless self-control, he might have strangled her on the spot.

Aurile Virelle.

Overrated, ungrateful, obsolete garbage. An illegitimate bastard who didn't know her place.

That she was later sacrificed by her so-called lover Stormblade?

Amusing.

But not enough.

If it weren't for the book he'd bargained from Quill, he might never have pieced it all together. His parents had gone to survey a new terrain—his father wanted to assess if it was safe for resort development, for both humans and meta-humans.

Aurile gave Caelum the return coordinates.

Wrong ones.

And Caelum—foolish and trusting—passed them on to Father.

By the time he realized something was off… it was already too late.

And he had never forgiven himself.

*************************************

Lucien didn't hesitate.

He stormed forward, snatched the paper from her hands, and grabbed a pen.

In bold red ink, he scribbled the correct coordinates next to the false ones—circling them twice.

"This," he said firmly, "use this."

Before anyone could blink, he sent it out.

Aurile gasped. Frozen.

Caelum and Altair stared at him like he'd gone mad.

"Stop the transmission—!" Altair snapped.

Lucien didn't have time to explain. He spotted the ONCE button—the irreversible override reserved only for life-threatening emergencies.

He hit it without hesitation.

Permanent. Irreversible.

Altair exploded.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" he roared, grabbing Lucien by the collar and slamming him into the wall.

" Are you trying to kill them! You little—!"

His voice cracked. Rage was masking the panic beneath.

Lucien's eyes widened.

He stared into ember eyes so much like his own—blazing, furious… and scared.

Second brother, he called out in his mind.

Too scared to speak.

Too scared this fragile miracle might shatter.

Caelum, tense and unreadable, looked between them. He saw Lucien's face—mistook the stunned look for fear.

His stance softened—briefly.

Then hardened again.

"Lucien. Go to your room," he said coldly.

"No one is to see him. No food. No water."

Lucien didn't protest. Didn't cry.

Not because it didn't hurt.

But because...

They were alive.

Altair. Caelum.

He hadn't seen them in six years—not since Caelum was betrayed, and Altair was framed.

He turned and walked away slowly, each step trembling with fear that one wrong move would wake him from this dream.

*************************************

As he walked through the hall, memories returned like ghosts.

He remembered being quiet—too quiet—during this time. He hadn't interacted much with his parents before they left. After the incident, Caelum had launched search after search, even roping Grandfather in.

All that returned… were death reports.

Father. Mother. Grandfather.

Caelum never recovered.

That day, his eyes lost their allure. He changed.

He became a stranger. Even to them.

That was the beginning of the rift. The slow collapse.

They stopped being a family and became strangers under the same roof.

Two years later, Caelum was murdered.

And Altair was blamed.

Why?

Aurile again.

She injured herself—badly—and pinned it on Altair. Claimed he tried to kill her and Caelum for the inheritance.

And they believed her.

Lucien had been too shocked at the time to question it. But now?

He saw the truth clearly.

They were never meant to survive.

They weren't meant to win.

They were background characters—tools to elevate the hero.

He let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh as he reached his door.

"I was given a second chance for a reason, wasn't I?"

He smiled lazily.

"It'd be a shame not to use it."

*************************************

He entered his room.

And the migraine hit instantly.

His head throbbed. His vision spun.

The celestial meeting. The death. The time travel.

It all crashed onto him like a tidal wave.

It might have been nothing for an eighteen years old Lucien, who has gone through worst but.....

his eight-year-old body wasn't built for this.

His cheeks flushed red. His breath grew shallow. He tried to endure, he really did but he still couldn't.

And just before darkness overtook him...

Lucien collapsed to the floor.