Chapter 3 – New Life (1)
[ System ]
[ Awakening of a Hero ]
[ Returnee of another world, welcome to the System. ]
[ System designation: THOMAS. I will be your guide. ]
I stared blankly at the transparent screen floating in front of me.
"…You've got to be kidding me," I muttered.
A damn system. After five hundred and one deaths, after drowning in blood and failure over and over, now it shows up? Now it wants to "guide" me?
The first line faded. New text slid into place with mechanical precision.
[ Due to unforeseen circumstances, System THOMAS was unable to assist you during prior regressions. ]
[ Error source: higher-order interference. ]
[ Request: Would you like to access all game data currently stored within this unit? ]
Another line blinked into existence beneath it.
[ Yes / No ]
I let out a low breath, half laugh, half sigh.
"Unforeseen circumstances, huh," I said. "That's one way to describe throwing me into a meat grinder and leaving me there on loop."
None of this made sense. If this thing could talk, if it had game data all this time, why now? Why not at death number ten? Or a hundred? Or any of the times I was screaming for help on my knees?
But.
This might be the only time I get something different. A variable. A crack in the script. If I waste this chance, I have no one to blame but myself.
"Fine," I growled. "Show me, then."
I focused on [ Yes ].
The moment I did, the button flashed.
Then my world broke.
It wasn't just a headache. It felt like someone grabbed my skull with both hands and forced a flood through my eyes. Images, sound, UI windows, numbers, stats, quests—all of it rammed into my mind like a tidal wave.
Memories.
But they weren't mine.
I knew my past life very well. No matter how many times I regressed, my memories of Earth never faded. My cramped room. My cheap coffee. The blue glow of my monitor at 3 a.m. My family's voices. All of that was mine.
These weren't.
These belonged to Thomas.
Thomas, sitting in front of a screen.
Thomas, playing a game called *Nexuspia* until his eyes were bloodshot.
Thomas, min-maxing builds, rerolling characters, memorizing boss patterns, optimizing routes like a machine.
And the world inside that game—
Lumia.
The same Lumia I've bled for, died in, and failed to save more times than I can count.
I watched, from inside his memories, as the main hero in Nexuspia fought against the end of the world: endless portals to the underworld tearing open across Lumia, vomiting monsters, corruption, and despair. It was the same destruction I knew.
But in the game, there was something I never had.
A method.
A way to stop the portals.
A hidden mechanic. A condition. A system interaction Thomas had discovered once, late at night, and abused until he broke the game over his knee.
"There was a way to stop the portals the whole time…?"
The words slipped out of my mouth on their own.
My soul was shattered, worn down to dust by now. My face had forgotten what most emotions felt like.
But as that crucial detail surfaced in Thomas's memories, something twisted at the corner of my lips.
I smirked.
Hope—weak, ugly, stubborn—burned in a place inside me I thought had long since gone dead.
The flood of memories slowed, then cut off, leaving me gasping like I'd been underwater too long.
The screen in front of me flickered and updated.
[ … Integration: 5% ]
[ Further integration requires specific circumstances to be met. ]
"Wait," I snapped. "What circumstances?"
The answer came back instantly.
[ Information: restricted. ]
[ Reason: premature disclosure will destabilize target timeline. ]
I clenched my teeth.
"Of course it's restricted," I said. "Of course the damn system start plays vague. Fine. Then what *can* you tell me right now that actually helps save this world?"
The System didn't hesitate.
[ Immediate directive: Enroll in the Academy. ]
[ Primary objective: Locate and secure all designated 'heroines'. ]
"…What?"
Heroines?
I rifled through my own memories. Battlefields, sieges, evacuations. Demon invasions. Corrupted nobles. Betrayals. Heroes dying, villains laughing. Reset. Again and again.
There was no neat list of "heroines" in any of that.
"I don't remember any 'heroines' in my past regressions," I said coldly. "Who the hell are you talking about?"
Before the System could respond, a sharp pain stabbed through my chest.
I coughed—hard.
Wet warmth slid over my lips. I looked down and saw blood splatter on my hand, bright red on pale skin.
"Tch…"
And then an image slammed into my mind.
Not a vague memory. Not Thomas's game POV. Something clearer, sharper, more… real.
A girl.
Standing in front of a burning city, wind whipping her hair.
Eyes filled with stubborn light.
A name I hadn't thought about in a long time, attached to a face I didn't want to see broken again.
One of the "heroines."
One of the people I needed to protect.
"No," I whispered. "That can't be…"
But the more I tried to deny it, the clearer the image became. Her standing on a wall, shouting orders. Her bleeding out in my arms in a past regression. Her dying because I hadn't known what she was supposed to be to this world.
Because I hadn't known she was *key*.
[ Confirming response: At least one designated heroine has been recognized by host. ]
[ Integration stability: holding. ]
[ Recommendation: Proceed to Academy without delay. ]
I didn't answer.
I just stood there, staring at the blood on my hand, at the faint System window hovering in front of me, and at the ugly realization crawling its way into my brain.
This whole time…
I'd been trying to save the world by smashing my head against the front door.
But the real keys?
They'd been walking around me as people.
And I'd let them die.