I was born into power.
That was the first thing I understood about my new life.
Not slowly. Not through discovery.
Instinctively.
The house — no, estate — stretched farther than my eyes could follow. Glass towers curved into the sky outside my bedroom windows, connected by aerial highways filled with silent vehicles gliding through polluted clouds. Advertisements larger than mountains flickered endlessly across neighboring megastructures.
This world was beautiful in the way a blade was beautiful.
Sharp. Cold. Efficient.
And owned by the rich.
Which meant people like my family owned everything.
Servants moved quietly through the halls. Security drones hovered near entrances. Every wall displayed shifting data streams — market trends, corporate projections, global resource statistics.
My new surname carried weight.
The kind that made adults lower their voices.
The kind that shaped governments.
And most importantly…
My father was one of the lead directors behind a future project still hidden from the public.
A game.
Even as a child, I recognized the name whenever it appeared in encrypted documents or quiet conversations.
YGGDRASIL.
Every time I heard it, my heart raced.
Because I remembered.
My old life flooded back more clearly as I grew — late nights gaming, endless anime marathons, theorycrafting builds, optimizing stats until characters became absurdly powerful.
I hadn't just played games.
I studied them.
Balance systems. Scaling mechanics. Hidden exploits. Efficiency curves.
Min-maxing wasn't a hobby for me.
It was an art form.
And now?
I was being handed early access to the most advanced game ever created.
I smiled every time I thought about it.
The bored god hadn't just reincarnated us.
He'd stacked the deck.
Years passed quickly.
This future world moved fast, and children of elite families were expected to mature even faster.
Education wasn't optional — it was engineered.
Private AI tutors taught me economics, programming logic, virtual architecture, and neural-interface theory before I reached my teens. My parents believed they were preparing me to inherit corporate responsibility.
Instead, they were unknowingly preparing me to break a game system that didn't exist yet.
I kept my memories secret.
Acting like a genius child was easy when you already had a lifetime of experience.
The real surprise came when I reunited with Elijah and Lily.
It happened at a corporate gala — one of countless political gatherings disguised as celebrations.
The moment I saw them across the hall, I knew.
Elijah stood taller now, dressed formally but clearly uncomfortable, scanning the room like a bodyguard rather than a guest.
Lily, meanwhile, looked perfectly at home, smiling sweetly while obviously eavesdropping on every important conversation nearby.
Our eyes met.
Recognition hit instantly.
Lily nearly laughed out loud.
Elijah froze.
I raised my glass slightly.
We remembered.
All of us.
The god had kept his promise.
The announcement came three years later.
Global networks exploded overnight.
FULL DIVE VR CONFIRMED.
WORLD'S FIRST TRUE IMMERSION GAME REVEALED.
And finally—
YGGDRASIL.
I watched the reveal presentation beside my father, pretending mild curiosity while internally vibrating with excitement.
A massive digital world tree filled the screen.
Infinite class combinations.
Hundreds of races.
Unrestricted builds.
Player-created guild bases.
NPC customization.
No fixed balance ceiling.
My gamer instincts screamed.
This wasn't just a game.
This was a system waiting to be abused.
My father glanced at me. "Interested?"
I nodded carefully, hiding how serious I felt.
"It looks fun."
He chuckled. "You'll actually be among the first to try it. Director families are permitted beta access."
There it was.
The advantage.
The beginning.
The beta client activated the day I turned eligible.
I entered my private immersion chamber, heart pounding as neural connectors aligned around my head. The pod closed with a soft hiss, sealing me inside darkness.
A familiar anticipation filled me.
The same feeling I used to have before launching a new RPG.
Except this time…
The stakes were real.
Light exploded across my vision.
A vast cosmic interface appeared before me.
WELCOME TO YGGDRASIL.
Character Creation Initialized.
I didn't hesitate.
"I'm going magic," I whispered.
Always magic.
Magic scaled infinitely if designed correctly. Physical builds peaked too early. Warriors relied on equipment and stamina limits.
But magic?
Magic broke rules.
I began scrolling through races.
Humans — adaptable but inefficient late game.
Elves — strong mana growth but restrictive class paths.
Angels — powerful but alignment-locked.
Dragonoids — incredible stats, terrible flexibility.
No.
I needed something better.
Something scalable.
Something that allowed multiclass synergy.
My eyes stopped.
A rare heteromorphic race category appeared — one normally avoided due to social penalties and difficult early progression.
I smiled slowly.
Perfect.
Heteromorphic races gained exponential late-game advantages and unique class evolutions unavailable to humanoids.
Players avoided them because early gameplay was harder.
I wasn't planning for early game.
I was planning for eternity.
I selected the race.
Confirmation light surrounded me.
Next: Classes.
I ignored flashy combat options immediately.
Instead, I searched for synergy paths — mana amplification, spell stacking, cooldown reduction, passive scaling.
A pure combat mage wasn't enough.
I needed a foundation build.
A core that could branch endlessly.
Support magic.
Arcane amplification.
Reality-affecting spell trees.
Every decision followed one rule:
Maximum long-term growth.
Stat points distributed with surgical precision.
No wasted values.
No emotional choices.
Only efficiency.
Minutes passed.
Or maybe hours.
Finally, my character began to form — a silhouette of immense magical potential taking shape before me.
I watched quietly, feeling something deep and certain settle inside my chest.
This wasn't just character creation.
This was destiny design.
And somewhere, beyond reality itself…
I swore I felt the bored god watching.
Waiting.
To see what I would become.