I woke up and lay there, staring at the ceiling.

  Fifteen years, I thought. That's the lifespan of this body. It seems like a lot for a normal human. And yet—it's agonizingly short for someone who remembers entire eras. Just a brief moment. A blink of eternity.

  My philosophical musings were shattered by a crash. BANG-BANG-BANG! The door flew open, nearly tearing off its hinges. Alexia and Lianel stood on the threshold. They hadn't even changed for breakfast; they had clearly come running the second they woke up.

  "GREG!" Lianel started. "What happened to you yesterday?!" "What was all that?!" Alexia chimed in. "You terrified everyone! That ice, that darkness... What is going on with you?"

  I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. I looked at Alexia. And I froze.

  I must have stared at her for a solid minute, completely unblinking. Like a statue. Inside my head, overflowing with thousands of images, her face suddenly aligned perfectly with another face. A face from a very distant, warm, and painful memory. The same eyes, the exact same tilt of the head.

  "You..." I whispered.

  Alexia shifted uncomfortably under my intense gaze. "Greg?" She waved a hand in front of my face. "What are you staring at?"

  I shook my head, dispelling the vision. "You look so much like her..." I blurted out without thinking.

  "Like who?" they both demanded instantly.

  My brain frantically scrambled for an excuse. I couldn't tell them the truth.

  "Like... um... like the Moon," I forced out. "Yeah. You look like the Moon. That's what I meant. Pale and round... I mean, bright."

  Alexia raised a highly skeptical eyebrow. "Greg, that is a terrible compliment. You've got a long way to go before you're a romantic."

  "Greg, stop dodging the question!" Lianel slammed her hand against my desk. "Answer us! Who are you? Where does this power come from? Are you dangerous?"

  I looked at them. They were scared, but they had still come. They were worried. And right then, I faced a choice. Tell them the Whole Truth? About the cycles, about my grandson Planus, about the fact that I am an ancient weapon of this world? They might be terrified. They might turn me over to the Inquisition. Or just think I'm completely insane. Or lie? Tell them it's a family curse, an illness, a freak accident?

  I looked into their eyes, weighing the options: Trust versus Safety.

  No, I decided. I'll lie. The truth will burst out on its own eventually, like a popped blister. Why complicate the morning?

  I put on my most philosophical expression. "It's nothing special," I shrugged. "Just... sometimes my emotions slip out of control. I remembered a piece of my past, a really sad one. So I snapped. As for where the power comes from—no idea. Maybe I fell into a cauldron of magic when I was a baby."

  I walked over to the mirror and pointed at my eyes. "Oh, look. Today one eye is black, as usual. But the other?" I turned my left side to them. The iris was burning with a rich, deep crimson color. "Red. Oh, just like yours!"

  I broke into a brazen, obnoxious smile: "Well, that settles it. I'm officially your relative now. Where's my crown and the key to the treasury?"

  Lianel and Alexia exchanged a look.

  "Yes," Lianel frowned, examining me closely. "The color really is... exactly like our family's. This is very strange."

  "What's strange about it?" I snorted. "They're just eyes. Maybe we're distant cousins?"

  Alexia crossed her arms over her chest and looked me up and down skeptically. "A relative, you say?" she scoffed. "Greg, with your manners, you act more like a stray mutt our great-grandmother accidentally fed once, and now it thinks it's a Duke."

  "Ouch," I clutched my chest in mock agony. "Cruel, princess."

  "Or like a third cousin they locked in the basement for stealing the family silverware," she added, though the corners of her lips twitched into a smile.

  She stepped closer to me. Her gaze softened. "But the color does suit you," she said quietly. And out of pure habit, to calm down the "wild relative," she reached out and started scratching my head.

  And then... BAM.

  It wasn't like before. Before, it was just physically pleasant, like petting a cat. But now, after reading the Book, the floodgates of my memory were wide open. I didn't just feel Alexia's hand. I felt a thousand touches. The hands of a mother (probably a mother, that's just what she looked like). The hands of a girl I once knew. The hands of a little girl I used to rock to sleep.

  All those moments when I was loved, pitied, comforted—all of it concentrated into this single gesture from Alexia. It was overwhelming. It was far too good. A warmth that made me want to sob and laugh at the same time.

  My knees buckled. I practically purred.

  "What's wrong with you?" Alexia asked, surprised as I slumped forward. "You're reacting differently this time. You've completely melted."

  I looked at her with hazy, unfocused eyes. "Don't stop," I rasped, completely forgetting about shame or cynicism. "Please."

  Alexia froze. She saw such raw, naked need and tenderness in my eyes that she instantly flushed. Her cheeks turned crimson. She yanked her hand back as if she had been burned.

  "Screw you, Greg!" she blurted out, turning away to hide her intense embarrassment. "Idiot! We're going to be late!"

  She grabbed her bag and sprinted out of the room.

  "We'll wait for you downstairs!" Lianel threw over her shoulder, looking equally bewildered, and hurried after her sister.

  I was left standing there, feeling the phantom warmth lingering on my hair.

  "Yeah," I said to the empty room. "Looks like the Book made me a little too sensitive."

  On my way to class, I ran into Alphus. He looked pathetic: dripping with sweat, red in the face, his clothes clinging to his body.

  "Why are you so wet?" I asked, squinting at him. "It hasn't rained. Or were you just crying all night because I wasn't here yesterday?"

  Alphus was breathing heavily, leaning against the wall. "Greg, did you forget? We have our physical conditioning exams at the end of this week. Four kilometers in ten minutes."

  Yeah, I thought. Harsh standards. Even for a mage, that's a brutal pace.

  Alphus wiped his forehead with his sleeve and looked at me with unexpected bitterness. "To be honest, I envy you a little bit," he said suddenly. "Yeah, you're poor, you have no status, you're ugly... Nature definitely didn't bless you with looks, and those eyes are terrifying..."

  "Hey, take it easy," I chuckled.

  "...But all of this comes so easily to you," he continued, ignoring me. "Magic, fencing, running. You just step up and do it. Meanwhile, I have to go out for a run every single day, waking up at dawn. And I'm still terrified I won't make the cut. Right now, I'm running it in 15 minutes. That's a total failure."

  I looked at him. This wasn't an arrogant aristocrat talking; this was just a normal kid, working like a dog to meet his family's crushing expectations.

  "Want me to help you?" I asked.

  Alphus looked at me skeptically. "And how exactly are you going to help me? Carry me on your back? Conjure a tailwind? That's strictly forbidden."

  "I'll run with you in the mornings," I said. "I'll be your rival. You know, nothing makes you run faster than the burning desire to outpace an 'ugly peasant'."

  Alphus thought about it. A competitive spark lit up in his eyes. "Alright," he nodded. "Fine. Tomorrow at dawn. Just don't whine if you fall behind."

  I walked into Combat Magic class my usual way—exactly two minutes before the bell.

  The moment I opened the door, a dead silence fell over the room. All conversations snapped shut. Dozens of eyes locked onto me. At first with fear (remembering yesterday's ice and darkness), and then—with undisguised shock as they examined my face.

  "His eyes..." someone whispered from the back row. "They look exactly like..." "Shh!" their neighbor hissed. "Shut up! Don't say that, it's highly offensive to Them!"

  I walked to my seat, feeling the weight of their stares. Alright, I thought. The main thing is they aren't throwing tomatoes or rotten eggs. That's progress.

  I flopped down into the chair next to Alexia. She didn't even look at the rest of the class. She simply reached out and started stroking my hair. Calmly, habitually, as if taming a wild beast. This time, there was no tidal wave of memories—just a pleasant, warm feeling. It was cozy. I exhaled, letting my shoulders drop.

  Alexia leaned in closely, not stopping her petting, and whispered sarcastically: "You know, Greg, with that red eye, you look exactly like the main villain from a children's fairy tale. Everyone is terrified of you..." She smirked. "...Except villains don't usually purr when you scratch them behind the ears. You are hopelessly ruining your image as the 'Terror of the Academy'."

  I wanted to snap back, but I didn't get the chance. The door swung open, and Teacher Elandr walked in. The class went even quieter.

  His eyes instantly found me. He lingered on me for a second longer than necessary—his gaze was heavy, calculating. He clearly remembered yesterday. But he didn't say a word.

  "Sit down," he ordered dryly. "We are continuing our module on combat constructs."

  Teacher Elandr finally stopped drilling holes into me with his eyes and turned to the chalkboard. He began his lecture, and his voice took on that solemn, academic drone that usually puts me straight to sleep.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  "Today, we turn to history," he began. "To the legendary Battle of Ashen Ridge."

  The class went dead silent. Everyone loved the legends.

  "In those days, a Great Demon known as the Flaming Tongue was reducing cities to cinders. His fire was so intense it could melt stone and vaporize steel in seconds. No shield could withstand his heat. Knights burned alive inside their armor before they could even close the distance."

  Elandr paused, sweeping his gaze across the room. "But a Hero, whose name has been lost to the ages, found a solution. He didn't build massive walls of ice, which would have melted instantly. No. He stood before the Demon, perfectly calm."

  The teacher drew a diagram on the board. "He created an ultra-thin, circulating layer of water immediately surrounding his body. A constantly renewing layer, barely a millimeter thick. It absorbed the heat and instantly evaporated, carrying the temperature away, while a new layer immediately replaced it. This allowed the Hero to walk straight through the hellfire and deliver the killing blow to the Demon's heart."

  Elandr turned back to us and added in a profoundly bored voice: "Today, this technique is known as 'Hydro-Thermal Defense'. This is basic curriculum for all second-year students. The absolute fundamentals that everyone must know if they don't want to burn themselves in the kitchen."

  In that exact moment, I felt like an invisible spear had impaled my heart. I froze, my mouth hanging open.

  Basic?! I screamed internally. BASIC?!

  A memory from the Book flared in my mind. That exact battle. I remembered the blistering heat. I remembered the buckles on my boots literally melting. I remembered how long I had agonized over inventing that technique, when everyone before me had literally turned into a roasted steak in under a second! Do you have any idea how hard it was to figure that out?! That was my Magnum Opus! My masterpiece of survival!

  And now...

  "This is basic," Elandr repeated. "Nothing complicated."

  "Yeah, right," I whispered, feeling a toxic cocktail of immense pride and deep, deep resentment. "Great." Stole my patent and didn't even say thank you. 'A Hero whose name is lost'... I'll show you lost!

  Yeah, basic, sure, I thought, listening to Elandr. He hadn't broken down any other technique in this much agonizing detail. They had probably spent centuries analyzing my move, writing dissertations, deriving mathematical formulas. Pfft, basic, I scoffed to myself.

  But at the same time, I smiled. My technique wasn't rotting on a shelf of forgotten scrolls. It was alive. It was protecting people. It was strange, but it warmed my soul.

  Granted, when it came time for the practical application, it was hilarious. It was very strange: the teacher had seemingly explained everything perfectly, yet no one could actually pull it off. A couple of students nearly suffocated inside their "water armor" because they forgot to leave an opening for oxygen.

  "Amateurs," I shook my head. "The water needs to breathe, not drown you."

  At lunch, Anna sat down with us. And she didn't sit down as an enemy or a rival, but with very obvious friendly intentions. She plopped into the chair across from me and, squinting slyly, pulled a wrapped bundle from her bag. Inside was a steaming, incredibly aromatic slice of pizza. My mouth instantly started watering. I completely forgot about my pride.

  Anna looked at me with the smile of an animal trainer. "If you say: 'Please, dear Anna, give me a slice of that divine pizza,' I'll give it to you."

  I didn't even blink. It meant absolutely nothing to me. Pride? Dignity? Pfft, I was starving!

  "Please, dear Anna, give me a slice of that divine pizza!" I fired off at machine-gun speed.

  Anna laughed, handing over the coveted triangle. "You're so easy, Greg."

  I bit into the pizza, completely tuning out the rest of the world. Alexia looked at Anna, then at me chewing happily, and they suddenly smiled at each other. It was as if they had just found the perfect common ground. And off they went.

  "Listen, Anna," Alexia began, stirring her tea. "Do you have a lot of pizza?"

  "Enough," she smirked.

  "Excellent. I think if we combine our resources, we could make him conquer a neighboring kingdom for a couple of pepperonis."

  "You think pepperoni is enough?" Anna eyed me skeptically. "I feel like he'd sell out state secrets for a crust of bread."

  "Nah, he doesn't know any secrets," Alexia waved a hand dismissively. "His head is entirely empty except for the wind and the lunch schedule. Have you noticed he's exactly like a stray cat? Feed him, and he's yours. Don't feed him, and he hisses and scratches."

  Anna giggled. "Yeah. And then there's the petting thing. Have you seen that? I accidentally brushed his head yesterday, and he practically started purring."

  "Oh, that's his 'Off' button," Alexia stated with absolute authority. "If he starts acting up or saying stupid things, you just put your hand on his crown. Works flawlessly every time. Total system reboot."

  "Seriously?" Anna looked at me with genuine scientific curiosity. "I'll have to try that. He can be such a pain sometimes. Very convenient feature."

  "Extremely," Alexia nodded. "Just no fleas, I checked."

  "Well, thank the gods for that. I was worried I'd have to wash him with anti-parasite shampoo too."

  I sat there, chewing my pizza and listening to them. Keep talking, keep talking, I thought, enjoying the melted cheese. Wash me with shampoo if you want, just make sure you feed me on time.

  Alexia and Anna's jokes were pretty weak, obviously. It was a little insulting, but the pizza was totally worth it. Still, they were just joking... probably. Hopefully. I really didn't want either of them ending up on the "People to Erase from Memory in the Next Era" list.

  After all my classes were done, I remembered I needed to meet with Planus. Business before grudges. I was walking down the stairs when Anna caught up to me.

  "Hold on," she said. "Where are you going?"

  "To see the old man," I replied. "Oh, right. You wanted to see him too, didn't you?"

  I didn't wait for an answer. I grabbed her shoulder. POP. We teleported right back to the "Walnus" tavern.

  This time, Anna didn't drop quite so dramatically. She clutched her stomach, but she didn't make a sound. She was clearly holding it together better. Progress.

  "Alright, Planus," I said, pushing the tavern door open.

  I walked in and stopped dead.

  This was no longer a drunk, filthy oaf. Sitting at the exact same table was a Giant who now smelled of soap and, I think, the sea. Planus was washed, his hair combed, and his black hair and beard were neatly trimmed. His height, easily pushing two meters, seemed even more imposing now that he was sitting up straight.

  Anna let out a joyful, childlike squeal and ran toward him. "Grandpa!" She hugged him with all her might.

  "My little sunbeam!" Planus hugged her back, lifting her clean off the floor.

  "You disappeared so suddenly for a whole year! What happened?"

  "I was just traveling," he replied, holding her tightly. "Looking for... inspiration."

  He set her back down and looked right over her shoulder at me. There was no drunken haze in his eyes now—only a sharp cunning and deep warmth.

  "Well now, my little sunbeam, look how much you've grown," he patted Anna's head. "Did you manage to kick this little snot's ass yet?"

  They both burst out laughing. I grimaced, but kept my mouth shut.

  "How are Mom and Dad?" Planus asked, his tone turning more serious.

  Anna answered, lowering her eyes: "They're fine... Though they seem pretty hurt that you vanished so abruptly a year ago without saying a word. They were worried."

  I sat down across from Planus, never taking my eyes off him. Planus immediately started ordering everything on the tavern's menu. Meat, stew, bread, pies, cheese. He listed things off to the waitress, ticking them off on his fingers until she stopped him, looking genuinely terrified.

  "Grandpa," Anna said. "I knew you ate a lot, but not that much!"

  Planus waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, this isn't for me. This is for Greg."

  I started smiling. Planus knows exactly how to treat his great-great-grandfather.

  Once the waitress hurried away, Planus leaned in toward me.

  "Listen, Halibut," he said, instantly correcting himself: "Greg. After the Academy term is over, do you want to come see the family? My son... He remembers you, just barely. Do you want to come visit him during the holidays?"

  "Sure," I said. The idea actually sounded interesting. Family. A spark immediately lit up in his eyes.

  Anna, recovering from the shock of the massive food order, looked at me. "How old are you actually, Greg?"

  "Ummm... I don't know," I scratched the back of my head. "Still very old. But based on the Book, roughly twelve hundred... Granted, I didn't think to start writing in the Book right away. So, basically, I have no idea what the total is. But I am always fifteen."

  Planus smiled. "That is the most accurate description possible."

  Anna shook her head. "I just can't wrap my mind around it. I mean, it obviously explains why you're so insanely strong, but still... I look at your face and your personality. Honestly, both before and after the Book, you still act exactly like a kid."

  I instantly deflected with a joke: "Hey, it's not my fault! Unlike you guys, I'm forever young! You all reek of elderly boredom and adult responsibility. Why are you in such a rush to grow up? Stop! Wait for me!" I pulled a theatrical grimace. "I don't want to be the youngest guy at the funeral!"

  And then, the food arrived. The table was instantly buried under a mountain of meat, pies, and cheese. I didn't waste any more time on conversation. I started devouring everything in sight.

  I gorged myself. The table slowly emptied.

  "Thankfully, I made it in time," Planus said, watching me tear into a roasted leg of meat.

  "Thankfully you made it in time for what?" Anna asked. "He doesn't seem dangerous. He doesn't want to kill anyone. He's weird, yeah, but he's kind."

  Planus went quiet. He picked up a clean rag from the table and slowly wiped his hands. His eyes grew incredibly heavy.

  "Anna," he began quietly. "Every fifteen years, he forgets absolutely everything. And what kind of person he becomes depends entirely on his environment. Once, he ended up... with the Demons. And the Demons took advantage of that. They fed Greg lies. They raised him into a monster. It was the darkest era in history..." Planus swallowed hard. "But none of that matters, Anna. What matters is Greg's core. And his core is always the same. And right now, you are seeing him pure."

  I listened, continuing to eat. My hands were covered in grease, soup, and sauces. I didn't stop eating for a second.

  This went on for probably three hours. The table was completely decimated.

  "Thanks, Planus," I finally said, wiping my mouth.

  Planus smiled and reached out a hand. He scratched my head—exactly the same way he used to. And right then, it hit me.

  My mind flashed with how many times he must have done this. How many times he had found me—terrified, my memory wiped clean—on the outskirts of cities, in ruins, in deep forests. How many times he had picked me up after another "reset" and raised me like his own son. Taught me how to speak, read me fairy tales.

  Tears welled up in my eyes, but they weren't tears of sadness; they were tears of profound gratitude. I immediately dropped my head onto the table, practically purring from the pleasure and the unbearable warmth of it.

  "Planus," I whispered. "Thank you."

  Planus laughed, the sound low and deep. He kept stroking my hair as I fell asleep right there on the table, feeling absolutely, perfectly safe.

  Anna watched me sleep on the table. She felt calmer now, but she still had so many questions.

  "Grandpa..." she started quietly, not wanting to wake me. "My parents told me that our bloodline lives for a very long time. Why is that?"

  Planus laughed, the sound as soft as distant thunder. He took his hand off my head and picked up his mug. "Because your ancestor," he nodded in my direction, "named Greg, was quite the, um, romantic."

  Anna raised her eyebrows in surprise. "A romantic?"

  "Yes. He got together with an elf..." Planus chuckled. "And from there, our bloodline began. A mix. Elves live a long time. So we caught a bit of that longevity too."

  He sighed and looked down at his hands. "For example, I, Planus, will soon be hitting my two hundred and seventieth birthday. And you guys don't even invite me to the anniversaries!" He shook his head sadly.

  I could feel his sorrow. It was hard to witness—seeing him so strong, so massive, so full of love, yet slowly aging, while I remained a perpetual, fifteen-year-old idiot.

  Planus looked at Anna, a flash of melancholy passing through his eyes. "Alright, off you go, kids. It's time for you to head back to the Academy."

  "We'll see each other again, right, Grandpa?" Anna walked over and pressed her cheek against his.

  "Of course," Planus replied, kissing her forehead. "Soon."

  Anna took my hand, lacing her fingers tightly through mine. I was too calm, too full, and too peaceful to resist. She pulled me along.

  POP. Space folded. We teleported.

  She held onto me, but this time she didn't fall to her knees. I could feel her quickly getting used to my "teenage antics," even if she still couldn't fully process what she had just experienced. I headed toward my room, expecting her to head to hers.

  "Listen," she said suddenly, catching up to me. "I want to get stronger."

  I stopped and looked at her, narrowing my eyes. "Um, why do you need power like that? You're a princess. Your job is to sit there and look pretty while being a hostage."

  "I'm afraid I won't be able to protect the people I care about," she said with unexpected, dead seriousness.

  I burst out laughing. Loud, cynical laughter. "Protect the people you care about? You? Anna, you're terrified of a simple teleport."

  "Fine," she said, drawing herself up to her full height. That distinct royal pride—the exact same pride I remembered from her grandmother—flared to life inside her. "Tomorrow, whenever you're free, meet me in the gym."

  "Listen," I suggested. "Bring this up at lunch. Otherwise, Lianel is going to blow a gasket again about me doing things with you and training her enemy."

  Anna sneered contemptuously. "What, are you a house pet now?" Her voice was dripping with venom and pure mockery. "Can't take a single step without your masters' permission? Have they already trained you like a loyal little puppy?" She started laughing. "Alright, alright, don't get mad. I'll ask Alexia for permission."

  Outwardly, I just shrugged, but inside, my blood ran cold.

  That fire. That sheer audacity. That absolute willingness to cross any line for the sake of power. This wasn't just the arrogance of a spoiled princess. This was my blood. That ancient, predatory nature that despised weakness in any form.

  I realized then why it was so terrifying. Not because she had insulted me, but because she was the true, undeniable heir to my savagery.

  I just nodded. "Go, Anna. And get some sleep. You need it."