Prologue

Inside a small bedroom stood a boy staring intently at a small rubber ball.

He looked to be around seven years old, with short messy black hair and a pair of dead fish eyes that made people always think he was serious.

Overall, he looked quite average, except for his eyes.

"Dumb fucking retarded ball, why won't you move?!"

Finally, the boy snapped. Flinging his arms around, he went up to the yellow rubber ball and tried kicking it, only to miss and tumble down.

Altair stared blankly at his bedroom ceiling. The wood looked old and worn out. Considering how old this building was, he wasn't surprised.

He sighed, stood up from the floor, and walked toward his desk, where a small notebook lay open.

Picking up the inkwell pen, he wrote down the same thing he had since he began these dumbass experiments.

'7th September, 1986

Attempt at performing amogus by mobilizing willpower by eye contact: Failed big fucking time! Skill issue!!!!!'

He marked the last sentence with exclamation marks to display his frustration.

Altair slumped onto his chair, which for some time now had one of its legs tilting to the right.

He took a heavy breath before glancing at the rubber ball once again.

Altair Salvatore.

A name he gave himself because he didn't like his previous one.

One from another time, another world.

His past life, that is.

By now, he had adapted to this backwater of a century. There was no WiFi, no glorious memes, and none of his favorite fucking books!

But from his experience of reading so many reincarnation and transmigration novels, he thought he would experience something new.

Something worth pursuing.

In his past life, what was there for him to pursue?

Nothing.

At that stage of life, he had no motivation or goals. All he did was waste his time dreaming in a fucking daze.

You could say he lived a good life.

He didn't have a good relationship with his parents.

Neglect. Abuse.

He suffered such things, but in the end, things worked out.

He lived with a foster family that loved him. He got like-minded friends who were as insane as him, and eventually got treatment through therapy.

Back then, it was easy!

Then…

Shit went downhill.

He was less motivated. He was growing numb from all the reading, playing games, and watching movies.

By then, he realized a truth.

He had friends and family who cared for him. He underwent a long process of therapy.

Yet some scars don't heal.

He was depressed.

One simple fucking truth ruined it all.

By the time he realized he needed to do something, he felt it was already too late.

He skipped school, he ate less, he talked less, and all he did was hole himself up in his room.

Every day, he gritted his teeth for being unable to do something so simple.

One day, he was walking home after buying a few sodas and chips.

He didn't usually buy sweets or snacks, but today he felt he had earned it.

When all of a sudden, he heard a scream.

and then…

everything went black.

That was the last day he lived this pointless life.

And the day he died.

…

Time passed. Yet he was still conscious.

He knew who he was, yet at the same time he didn't

He felt like he was deep under water, yet there was nothing around him.

And then.

He opened his eyes.

'Maria Orphanage'

He could read the small but very conspicuous sign that stood high above him.

He looked at his small hands that he could barely control, the blanket covering him from the cold night, and the very obvious looking basket he was in.

He didn't know where he was

He didn't care.

He got a second shot at this…

One he hoped, 

Would be extraordinary!

Throughout the whole night, people would hear the mad cackles of a small baby echoing throughout the quiet night.

Prologue end.