My childhood at St. Elia Orphanage was not a story full of warmth and affection like in a fairy tale. From the first night I arrived, I felt that this place was not a loving home, but a place of survival.
I did not cry like other babies. I kept quiet, observing, and enduring all the discomfort that came. This was not the first time I had felt suffering. I had already died once, and I would not let myself be destroyed so easily in my second life.
As I grew up, I realized that the other children were different from me. They cried, ran around, and laughed carefree. I just sat quietly in the corner, watching them. I had no desire to play or run around like them. In fact, I felt my body moving slower than theirs. It was as if my once adult soul was still trapped in this small body.
At the dinner table, I always ate quietly. I did not fight like the other children. The food given was not enough for everyone, and those who were slow would not get a share. However, I was used to survival tactics. I took my share quietly before others noticed.
Sister Maria, the only caring adult in this place, often studied me with meaningful eyes. Until one day, when I was about two years old, she finally gave me a name.
"You are different from other children," she said, looking at me. "You are calm, you observe, and you seem to understand more than you should. I will give you a name."
She took a deep breath before finally smiling softly.
"Ars, Ars Storia."
The name was given casually, but to me, it became a symbol of my identity in this world. I was no longer Rintaro Shiba, an office worker who died tragically. I was Ars Storia, a child who had to survive in a cruel world.
The following years did not get any better. Every day was a struggle. The children in the orphanage were rude and fought each other, the caregivers other than Sister Maria did not care. I often went to bed hungry, my body was often cold, and I had to adapt to survive.
However, I did not cry. I never cried.
At night, when the other children were asleep, I stared at the wooden ceiling with empty eyes. I wondered, what is the purpose of my second life? Will I continue to endure this kind of suffering? Or will I find a way to change my own fate?
I knew one thing.
I would not let myself die so easily in this world.
The next day, the atmosphere in the orphanage changed drastically.
The sound of heavy boots echoed on the wooden floor of the church. The children who were usually noisy and playing now fell silent, their bodies tensing up as they saw the military uniforms enter the room. The armed men carried a frightening aura, intimidating with every step they took. Their eyes were sharp, cold as steel.
Among them, an old man in a white robe walked with an arrogant attitude. He carried a long staff with a sparkling blue gem at the end. His sharp eyes scanned the children one by one, as if evaluating them like merchandise.
"We are looking for children who have magical talent," the man said in a deep voice. "All the children will be examined. If there are any who have potential, they will be taken to serve in the military."
The atmosphere grew tense. The children began to cry, while some tried to hide behind the nurses. But there was no place to hide from the military.
Sister Maria stepped forward, her face tense. "They are just children, sir. None of them are—"
"Quiet." One of the soldiers glared at her, causing the old woman to bite her lip and step back.
The examination began.
One by one, the children were ordered to stand in front of the professor. The blue gem on his wand would light up if it detected magic in their bodies. However, every child who was examined ended up with the same result—no magical talent.
Hope began to grow in the hearts of the orphanage residents. If no one had magic, then no one would be taken.
But then, it was my turn.
"You, come."
I, standing in the middle of the orphanage hall, surrounded by curious and fearful gazes.
The man in the white robe approached, swinging his wand at me. A pale blue light enveloped me, cold and piercing to the bone. I didn't understand what was happening. I just stood there, staring at him with blank eyes.
Then, something unexpected happened.
The blue gem pulsed, vibrated violently, and then shone with a light so bright that everyone stepped back in surprise.
The atmosphere changed drastically.
The soldiers looked at each other, some tensing up and others preparing to draw their weapons. The old professor fell silent, his eyes wide, before a sinister smile finally appeared on his face.
"Interesting..." he murmured in a low voice, filled with eerie enthusiasm. "Very interesting...!"
I still didn't understand what was happening, but one thing was clear—I had attracted attention I should not have wanted.
And it was probably the beginning of something much worse.
I was only four years old when they arrived.
The soldiers arrived with cold faces, neatly dressed in uniforms with the royal emblems pinned to their chests. I sat on the orphanage's rickety wooden bench, watching from a distance as they spoke to Sister Maria. The old woman's eyes were glassy, her hands shaking as she signed the documents in front of them.
I didn't know what was happening.
But I had a bad feeling.
"Ars Storia." One of the soldiers read my name from a list. His voice was flat, devoid of emotion.
I stood there, not trying to resist. It was no use. After all, I had been through something like this in my previous life—a situation where one had no choice.
Sister Maria knelt before me, grabbing my hand tightly. Her tears fell silently. "I'm sorry, Ars... I couldn't do anything."
I just stared at him with blank eyes. I didn't understand. Why was he crying? Why did he look so desperate? I was only going to be gone for a while, right?
I didn't know that from that day on, I would never return to the orphanage.
As the soldiers pulled me towards the military car, I glanced over. Sister Maria was still standing in the doorway of the church, her shoulders shaking with tears. I didn't know what it all meant, but in my heart, something didn't feel right.
The car sped along the cobblestone streets. The atmosphere inside the vehicle was quiet. I sat among the adult soldiers, my small body making me look like a lost child among them.
Finally, I arrived at my destination.
A military academy.
A large building with towering iron gates, decorated with the royal flag. Inside, hundreds of prospective soldiers lined up neatly on the field. Most of them were adult men, their bodies strong and covered in training scars.
And I... was just a four-year-old little girl.
I heard whispers.
"Why is there a little child here?"
"This is a mistake, right? He's too young."
"He doesn't even look strong. This is just a waste of time."
I ignored them. They didn't know who I was. They didn't know that inside this small body, there was a soul that had experienced a long life.
I walked to the center of the field with small but steady steps. The instructors' eyes were fixed on me with skeptical looks. One of them, a man with a scarred face, stepped forward.
"Name?" he asked roughly.
I looked him in the eye without flinching.
"Ars Storia."
For a moment, there was silence.
Then, laughter broke out among the soldiers. They were laughing at me. They thought I was a joke.
But it didn't matter.
I would survive.
I would uncover the secrets of this world.
And I would become stronger than anyone else here.