My shattered body—an existence that no longer existed—floated in the middle of nothingness. No skin. No bones. No muscles. No blood. No being.
I drifted in the center of the white void.
I was no longer a person; I was an indistinguishable blur, dissolved into that absolute nothingness. There were no boundaries between myself and the white that devoured all things. My identity vanished like ink bleeding into water.
The only color that remained, the only trace that still belonged to me, was the black ring on my finger. It did not dissolve. It did not bend. It stood in the void, defying the colossal power of the Celestial Pagoda. A dark monument, sovereign and indifferent to everything that broke apart.
Suddenly, the world trembled.
I didn't know if I had eyes to see or if I merely perceived through thought. The white began to twist into a vortex. Colors cracked through like fractures in glass, mixing into a rainbow swallowed by a black hole. And yet, everything remained white—a paradox of light devouring itself.
The vortex opened inside me. Yes—inside me. I was the source of the turbulence.
A living aurora shimmered, pulsing as if woven from luminous silk veils. The intensity grew until there was no longer a difference between it and me: that light no longer circled around me, but within my chest. The void spun in my heart. It was as if I were inside a cosmic forge, burning from the inside out.
I felt my skin re-form in flickering sparks. The whiteness entered me, invading my fibers, my memories, my very will. My entire soul was submerged into the crucible. I burned like raw metal thrown into divine fire.
I tried to scream—but I had no mouth.
I tried to move—but I had no body.
The pain was searing iron against a naked spirit. My mind melted, each thought being torn apart, beaten against the hammer.
And I was between the anvil and the hammer.
Then the first strike echoed through the immensity.
"BOOM." A fragment of skin formed—clear and flawless as porcelain.
The second strike followed, heralding its rhythm.
"BOOM." My bones cracked into place, rising like white pillars upon the flame of my essence—my soul.
The third strike wove a new reality.
"BOOM." My muscles knitted into firm cords, vibrating like divine fibers.
The fourth strike brought illumination.
"BOOM." My synapses blazed, new connections bursting like stars within my mind.
The final strike bore the signature of the craftsman.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOM."
I was back.
My skin shimmered like sacred glass—almost translucent, filled with an impossible radiance. If I could see my own eyes, I'd find two incandescent golden suns at their peak of fury. My muscles were intricately defined, each fiber resonating like a hymn of strength. The inside of my body didn't merely pulse with power—it erupted, like a volcano incapable of containment.
But it wasn't only physical. Something deep within me had changed—irreversibly.
My desires felt different, refined.
My thoughts, my conviction, my thirst for something greater—all were sharper, clearer.
And the only sensation left was that I had been reforged.
I didn't have time to contemplate the changes within me. The space around began to crack, like glass shattering into a thousand luminous fragments. The once-absolute white contorted, as if about to collapse.
Everything started to crumble. And then, a terrible, ancient, and inescapable force pulled me downward—dragging me without permission into the immensity that opened beneath my feet.
The fall was fast. My mind barely processed what was happening, and when I looked down, I saw what seemed to be a black hole at the end of the endless whiteness—an abyssal eye devouring everything. Before I could even question it, I was already swallowed.
Everything burst into blurs.
**
My head throbbed. My body felt heavy as lead—so dense it seemed fused to the ground. Slowly, my eyelids lifted, and light stabbed into my vision like a blade. I could see nothing but blinding white.
"Young Axis… stand up."
The gentle voice sounded like a whisper both near and distant at once, pulling me out of my stupor. I tried to move, but every muscle felt carved from stone.
"Rise, young Axis. Today is not a day to sleep in."
That same delicate voice echoed in my ears. My sight slowly stabilized—and when I finally grasped what stood before me, the shock hit so hard that instinct took over.
My body jumped from the bed, and I fell to the floor with a heavy thud, gasping.
"Young Axis, today is not a day for mischief."
The figure approached. It was a young maid. Her golden hair fell in perfect curls, like threads of sunlight intertwined. Her skin was pearly, polished like ivory, and her golden eyes shimmered with warm, almost divine harmony. She wore a simple black uniform trimmed in white and gold arabesques. The simplicity was deceiving—there was an elegance in the tailoring that revealed she served an immensely wealthy house.
But none of that was what took my breath away.
Above her head floated a golden halo, radiating its own living light. And behind her back rested two pure white wings, folded with immaculate grace, each feather gleaming.
"What... what the fuck is this?!"
The words escaped my mouth like an unavoidable scream, echoing across the luxurious room as my heart pounded wildly.
The maid frowned slightly at my outburst. There was a trace of disapproval in her golden eyes, though her posture remained impeccable.
"I recommend you refrain from using foul language before the Patriarch," she said softly—yet her tone carried the sharpness of a veiled blade.
"If you do, you'll lose your chance at the selection before it even begins."
She took hold of my arm—not harshly, but with absolute authority—and helped me to my feet.
"Get dressed. I'll be waiting for you at breakfast."
Her tone remained gentle, yet carried a weight that left no room for refusal. She turned, her white wings shifting with a subtle movement that filled the air with the scent of ozone and flowers, and left the room without looking back.
I was finally alone.
The silence was deep—almost tangible—filling the vast space. The room was monumental: white marble walls adorned with golden filigree that climbed toward a ceiling so high it felt like a celestial dome. Silver-blue silk curtains draped beside massive windows, where light filtered through like liquid blessing. A carpet embroidered with symbols I didn't recognize covered the pale stone floor. Everything breathed a nobility of a different kind—almost sacred.
"Is this another trial of the Pagoda?" I muttered under my breath. "Probably..."
My body felt strange. The weight was different. My balance was off, as if something both heavy and light at the same time projected from my back. The energy flowing inside me was unlike anything I'd felt before—it was finer, sharper, but also deeper.
The sensation sent chills down my spine.
I walked toward a full-length mirror framed in gold and crystal.
And I understood.
Staring back at me was a young boy—around fourteen years old. A lean body, yet clearly shaped by years of disciplined training. His skin was pale as ivory; his golden hair, straight and smooth, fell in a simple style that somehow couldn't be called plain—there was symmetry to it, an almost supernatural glow. His eyes were a deep, vivid blue, like the summer sky at its peak.
And there they were.
Above my head, a golden ring floated serenely, emitting a gentle light that pulsed like a heartbeat. From my back extended two white wings—large, pure, as spotless as freshly fallen snow.
"I… am I an angel now?"
The premise was unavoidable: I had become an angel.
"So… I transmigrated inside another transmigration? Or… reincarnated within one?" I thought, confused, though a silly grin crept across my face.
"Haaa... whatever. Doesn't matter."
My once-turbulent mind began to stabilize, and with that came cold analysis. I didn't know exactly why this was happening, but deep down I was certain it was connected to Master Elian's warnings.
A memory of him echoed clearly, as if he were here whispering into the void—Leon's words during the fight between the two twins:
"The boss is the heir of the family's arts."
Master Elian had said something similar:
"Some who entered the Pagoda returned with inheritances… seeds of power that later became the foundations of entire families. Not all are linked to mana or prana. Some are beyond that something unique."
"That might be it..." I murmured. "And judging by what the maid said, today must be an important day for something."
But questions still lingered—questions that weighed heavier than the wings I had just discovered.
I wasn't a good actor. Never had been.
And without a doubt, I wouldn't be able to convincingly play the part of some spoiled, noble heir named Axis. Not without slipping somewhere, not without giving myself away.
"Does the Pagoda give me some kind of help with that?" I wondered suspiciously.
It was strange. Different from when I transmigrated into Glenn's body in Atlas, where his memories had fused with my consciousness. Here, I hadn't received anything. No fragments. No recollections. No echoes of who Axis had been. I was just… me.
And that made it all the more dangerous.
"I know what I know. But I don't know anything about this world. Nothing about this family. Nothing about the role I'm supposed to play."
Faced with that void, I did what I always did—started with the basics.
One thing at a time.
I began with light stretches, trying to adjust to the new body. It was strange at first—the muscles responded fluidly, but there was a new weight, constant yet balanced by something extending from my back. Luckily, the endless days of training with Lesley had shaped me more than any inheritance or race ever could. My body obeyed, my mind followed, and within minutes I already felt at home in this new shell.
The wings, however, remained an enigma.
I turned my focus to the most intriguing part—the energy flowing inside me.
Closing my eyes, I delved inward. There were no energy channels—only something far more intimate. Golden particles moved within my blood, like fragments of sunlight dissolved in every drop. I went deeper, through the layers of my being, until I found what I thought I'd lost—and there it was.
Sealed beneath a miniature ethereal pagoda were my two cores—prana and mana. And sleeping within them, as if resting to the rhythm of distant waves, was my lightning phoenix.
"At least she's fine..." I exhaled, relieved. But the question quickly tore through that calm. "If it's not from them, then where does this energy come from?"
I pushed harder, forcing my awareness beyond the body—and then my consciousness emerged above it. Hovering above my head was the golden ring, connected not only to the body but also to the soul and the mind. It vibrated softly, as if breathing with me.
"So… warrior or mage?"
I decided to test it.
I touched that energy and pushed it through my body. The effect was immediate—and devastating.
My muscles tightened like strings about to snap; my blood roared through my veins like raging rivers. Time itself seemed to slow, every detail around me becoming too sharp, too cruelly clear. My senses expanded outward, blanketing an enormous area. I drew a deep breath, feeling my heart pound like a war drum.
"Warrior… definitely."
The sound of footsteps echoed again from the corridor, and my body reacted instinctively. I rushed to dress, my fingers moving with near-mechanical precision. That gentle yet commanding voice came from the other side of the door, reminding me of the urgency of the moment.
Fortunately, the clothes weren't difficult—an elegant uniform, flawless in its tailoring, but free of unnecessary decoration. I chose a cold, silent, and calculating demeanor; if that mask wasn't enough, I could always improvise later.
"I'm coming," I said curtly, my words sharp and clipped.
Minutes later, I found myself before a colossal table surrounded by twelve chairs carved from dark wood and adorned with golden details. Four were empty, while the one at the head awaited the arrival of an imposing figure. The other seven, including mine, were already occupied by people I instantly recognized—even without formal introduction.
They were my siblings.
The resemblance made it undeniable.
Each one radiated a distinct presence—an invisible weight that filled the hall. Some held rigid, austere postures; others sat relaxed with a hint of arrogance. But all of them exuded power and expectation. The air was heavy with tension, and silence spoke louder than words ever could.
I took my seat, heart pounding, aware that this moment would be crucial. Every glance was a challenge, every breath a reminder: here, there was no room for mistakes.
This was my chapter as Axis.