Sirens wailed through the hospital corridor, sharp and relentless, cutting through the air like a blade.
A stretcher rushed forward at full speed.
Doctors and nurses moved in urgent coordination, their footsteps echoing against the polished floor. The fluorescent lights above flickered past one after another, stretching into long streaks in the eyes of the boy lying on the stretcher.
"Nothing will happen to you, Jim! Stay with me!"
A voice—desperate, trembling.
His brother.
Running beside him, barely able to keep up, his face pale with fear.
Jim tried to focus on that voice.
Tried to hold onto it.
But everything felt distant.
Faint.
Heavy.
His body didn't respond the way he wanted it to.
His chest hurt.
His breathing was shallow.
With great effort, he lifted his hand slightly.
It trembled.
His eyes slowly shifted toward it—
…and froze.
Red.
His hand was covered in red.
"…Is this my blood?" he whispered weakly.
His voice barely existed.
"…Am I… going to die?"
No one answered him.
The doctors were too busy.
The nurses too focused.
The world… too loud.
And yet—
For him—
Everything was becoming silent.
The stretcher burst through double doors.
"Move! Move!"
"ICU, now!"
Machines beeped rapidly as they wheeled him inside.
The bright lights became harsher.
Sharper.
Colder.
Jim's eyelids grew heavier.
The voices around him blurred into noise.
His brother's shouting faded.
"…Jim…"
"…Stay…"
"…Don't…"
Everything… was slipping away.
The scene shifted.
A steady sound filled the room.
Beep… beep… beep…
The ICU.
Doctors surrounded the bed.
"Pulse is unstable!"
"Prepare the defibrillator!"
"Clear—!"
Thud.
The machine spiked.
Then steadied.
Then—
Dropped again.
"Pulse is dropping!"
"Hurry!"
"Again!"
Beep… beep…
Beep…
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep—
A long, unbroken sound.
Flat.
Empty.
Final.
Silence.
"…So…"
A voice echoed.
"…am I dead?"
Jim opened his eyes.
Or at least—it felt like he did.
But there was nothing.
No light.
No sound.
No body.
Just… darkness.
Endless and empty.
He floated—or maybe he didn't.
There was no sense of direction.
No sense of time.
"…Hah…"
A weak, hollow laugh escaped him.
"…Didn't like that world anyway."
There was no sadness in his voice.
No regret.
Only exhaustion.
"…If this is death… it's kind of boring…"
Then—
Something changed.
A small point of light appeared in the distance.
Faint.
But growing.
"…Huh?"
The light expanded.
Brighter.
Warmer.
It swallowed the darkness whole.
Jim felt something pulling him.
Not violently.
But inevitably.
Like gravity itself.
"…Wait—"
Light.
His eyes snapped open.
"What the—?!"
He gasped.
Air rushed into his lungs.
His body jerked.
Everything felt—
Wrong.
Different.
Small.
He blinked rapidly.
His vision was blurry at first.
Shapes formed slowly.
Colors.
Movement.
He looked down—
And froze.
Tiny hands.
Soft.
Chubby.
"…What?"
He moved them.
They moved.
But they weren't his.
"…What the baby hell?!"
His voice came out high-pitched.
Small.
Weak.
"Why am I a baby?!"
Panic surged through him.
His heart raced.
His breathing became uneven.
He looked around wildly.
The room was unfamiliar.
Strange.
A different world.
Different sounds.
Different air.
"…No way…"
He stopped.
His expression slowly changed.
From panic—
To realization.
"…Wait…"
A long pause.
"…Don't tell me…"
His eyes widened.
"…I got reincarnated?"
10 Years Later…
"ILOOOOON!"
A loud voice echoed through the house.
"Ilon! Come here!"
Footsteps rushed across the wooden floor.
"Yes, Dad! I'm coming!"
A boy ran into the room, his eyes bright with excitement.
This was Jim.
Or rather—
Ilon.
Ten years had passed since that strange rebirth.
And though his memories of his past life remained, they had become distant—like a dream he couldn't fully grasp.
But one thing was clear—
This world was different.
Because in this world—
Magic existed.
"Today," his father said, standing tall with a serious expression, "we will check your magical aptitude."
Ilon's eyes lit up instantly.
"Really?!"
He clenched his fists in excitement.
"Finally!"
He had been waiting for this day.
In this world, magic wasn't just a skill—
It was everything.
Power.
Status.
Identity.
And today—
He would find out what kind of magician he could become.
At the center of the room stood a crystal ball.
It glowed faintly, pulsing with soft energy.
Ilon stared at it with fascination.
"So this is it…"
"Place your hand on it," his father instructed.
Ilon nodded.
He stepped forward.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Then placed his hand on the surface.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
Silence filled the room.
"…Huh?"
Ilon blinked.
Then—
Flash—!
The crystal ball erupted in light.
Bright.
Blinding.
Symbols began to appear inside it.
One after another.
Fire.
Water.
Wind.
Earth.
Light.
Darkness.
Lightning.
Ice.
Every known magical element.
All at once.
His father's eyes widened.
His mouth slowly opened.
"T-This…"
His voice trembled.
"…This is impossible…"
He staggered back slightly.
"Affinity… with all elements…?"
His hands shook.
"No one… in history…"
"…No one has ever had this…"
Ilon blinked.
"…Is that… good?"
His father snapped out of it.
"GOOD?!"
He grabbed Ilon's shoulders.
"This is beyond good!"
His voice was filled with shock and excitement.
"You are a once-in-a-lifetime genius!"
Ilon grinned.
"Heh… I knew it."
His confidence rose instantly.
"So what now?"
His father stepped back, regaining composure.
"Now," he said, "try using fire magic."
Ilon nodded.
"Say: Come forth, fire."
Ilon took a deep breath.
He raised his hand confidently.
"Come forth, fire."
Silence.
Nothing happened.
"…Huh?"
Ilon frowned.
"…Maybe I said it wrong?"
His father crossed his arms.
"Try again."
Ilon nodded again.
"Come forth, fire!"
Nothing.
Still nothing.
The air remained still.
Unchanged.
Unmoved.
Ilon's smile slowly faded.
"…Why… isn't it working?"
He looked at his hand.
Confused.
Then at the crystal ball.
Then back at his father.
"…I don't understand…"
A strange heaviness filled his chest.
"…Even after all that…"
His voice lowered.
"…I still can't use magic?"
Doubt crept in.
Slow.
Cold.
Sharp.
His eyes began to sting.
"…No…"
His fists clenched.
"…That doesn't make sense…"
A burning feeling built inside him.
Not anger.
Not exactly sadness.
But something deeper.
More intense.
And then—
Whoosh—!
Flames burst out.
"…Huh?"
Ilon froze.
Fire poured from his eyes.
Like tears.
Burning.
Flowing.
Uncontrollable.
"I-I'm—WHAT IS THIS?!"
He panicked.
His hands flailed.
But the flames didn't stop.
They kept pouring out.
Like a broken dam.
His father stood frozen.
Completely speechless.
"…Magic… from his eyes…?"
His mind struggled to comprehend what he was seeing.
"How is this even possible…?"
The flames spread.
Curtains caught fire.
Wood began to burn.
The room filled with heat.
And then—
"FIRE! FIRE! SAVE THE HOUSE!"
The serious atmosphere shattered instantly.
His father ran around frantically with a fire extinguisher.
"STOP CRYING, YOU STUPID FOOL!" he shouted.
"YOU'LL BURN THE WHOLE HOUSE DOWN!"
"I'M NOT DOING IT ON PURPOSE!" Ilon yelled back.
His voice panicked.
His eyes still burning.
"WAS I SERIOUSLY CRYING FIRE?!"
Water sprayed everywhere.
Smoke filled the air.
Chaos erupted.
And in the middle of it all—
Ilon realized something.
Something important.
Something terrifying.
His magic—
Wasn't normal.
It was something else entirely.
And this—
Was only the beginning