Aerin Valcor died the way he lived.
Unnoticed.
There was no dramatic accident, no final words, no one screaming his name. Just a quiet moment where the world continued moving forward, indifferent to his absence. Even as his vision faded, Aerin understood one truth with painful clarity.
Nothing would be lost.
When he opened his eyes again, it wasn't heaven or hell that greeted him, but darkness and pain. A newborn's pain. A weak body. A second beginning he never asked for.
And then a voice echoed inside his mind.
[Key detected.]
[Eligibility confirmed.]
[System initialization in progress.]
Aerin smiled for the first time in both his lives.
If this world was going to judge him by strength alone, then he would become something far worse than a hero.
He would become inevitable.
The pain did not fade. It sharpened.
Tiny lungs burned as air was forced into them for the first time. His limbs refused to obey, weak and useless, wrapped in flesh that trembled instead of responded. Every sensation screamed limitation. Cold. Pressure. Helplessness.
So this was rebirth.
Not glorious. Not merciful.
Aerin understood immediately. This world did not grant second chances out of kindness. It simply reset the board and waited to see who would break first.
Voices echoed around him, distant and distorted. Unfamiliar words spoken in a language he did not yet understand. Rough hands lifted him, judging, weighing, deciding his worth before he could even open his eyes properly.
Just like before.
But this time, something else existed beneath the noise, beneath the pain. A presence. Silent. Watching.
The system.
Lines of faint light flickered behind his closed eyelids, forming symbols that felt less like text and more like law.
Lines of faint light flickered behind his closed eyelids, forming symbols that felt less like text and more like law.
[Host status: fragile]
[Growth restrictions: removed]
[Hidden permissions: unlocked]
Aerin's smile widened, slow and deliberate, even as tears spilled from eyes too weak to control them.
So this world had rules.
Good.
Rules could be learned.
Systems could be exploited.
And limits were nothing more than invitations.
He did not need love.
He did not need fairness.
All he needed was time.
As the newborn known as Rimmer let out his first cry, the world heard nothing more than the wail of a weak child.
But inside that fragile body, a will hardened by failure and resentment settled into place, patient and calculating.
This time, he would not wait to be chosen.
He would not beg to be noticed.
He would take.
And when this world finally realized what it had allowed to be born, it would already be too late.