A Second Chance

Sebastian was on his way home from work, following the same routine he'd followed for years. The subway car was crowded, the air heavy with the hum of conversations, the rhythmic clatter of wheels on rails, and the occasional screech of metal as the train navigated sharp turns. He barely paid attention, his mind drifting to the mundane tasks awaiting him at home. He leaned against the cold metal pole, his thoughts a blur of bills, groceries, and the monotony of everyday life.

The jolt came without warning—sharp, violent, and unmistakable. The train lurched, throwing passengers off balance. Groceries spilled, briefcases tumbled, and a collective gasp of fear filled the car. The lights flickered, plunging the space into an eerie half-darkness before stabilizing into a dim, unreliable glow.

"What's happening?" a woman's voice broke the tense silence.

Sebastian's heart raced as he grabbed the pole to steady himself. Then came the scream: "The brakes are failing!" Panic erupted, spreading like wildfire. People pushed and shoved, their instincts to flee overwhelming any rational thought. The cacophony of fear and confusion was deafening, the crowd's collective anxiety palpable.

For a moment, Sebastian froze, his breath caught in his throat. But then something shifted. A lifetime of routine was swept away by an instinctive clarity. Move. Help. Do something.

He surged into action, pushing his way through the frantic crowd. "Everyone, stay calm!" he shouted, though his voice was nearly drowned out by the chaos. Most ignored him, but he pressed on, scanning the car for anyone who needed help.

That's when he saw them—a group of children huddled together near the center of the car, their faces pale with terror. A woman, likely their teacher, stood frozen, her eyes wide and unfocused. Sebastian didn't hesitate. He knelt to their level, his voice firm but reassuring.

"Listen to me," he said, locking eyes with the teacher. "We need to move. Follow me, now!"

The teacher snapped out of her stupor, nodding quickly. Gathering the children, she followed as Sebastian led them toward the rear of the train where the emergency exits were located. The train shuddered violently again, the screeching sound of metal grinding against metal growing louder.

When they reached the doors, Sebastian cursed under his breath. They were jammed. He glanced back at the children, their tear-streaked faces and trembling hands fueling his resolve. Spotting the fire extinguisher mounted on the wall, he smashed the glass, grabbed the extinguisher, and slammed it into the emergency release lever with all his strength. The lever groaned, then gave way. With a metallic shriek, the doors slid open just enough for people to squeeze through.

"Go!" he urged, helping each child climb onto the narrow maintenance platform outside. The teacher followed, her movements jerky but determined.

Sebastian turned back to check for stragglers and saw her—a young mother clutching a crying baby, struggling to keep her footing as the train bucked beneath her. Her wide, tear-filled eyes met his, pleading silently for help.

"Hang on!" he shouted, sprinting back toward her. The train jolted again, and she nearly fell, but Sebastian reached her just in time, grabbing her arm and steadying her. "We need to move! Now!" he said, his voice urgent but steady.

He half-dragged, half-carried her toward the open doors, the platform just feet away. The train's screeching grew deafening, the station wall looming ahead. With a final burst of strength, he shoved her through the gap to safety.

Sebastian turned back, intending to follow, but it was too late. The train slammed into the station wall with a deafening crash. His world became a blur of sound and light, and then... nothing.

When Sebastian opened his eyes, he wasn't in a hospital. He wasn't even in his body. He found himself lying on a hard wooden floor in a small, rustic room. The smell of wood and fresh hay filled his nostrils, and sunlight streamed through a single window, illuminating the sparse furnishings: a bed, a table, and a mirror on the wall.

His limbs felt strange—shorter, smaller, yet brimming with an unfamiliar energy. He staggered to his feet, his movements awkward and unsteady, and approached the mirror. What he saw made his breath catch.

Staring back at him was a young boy with spiky ash blond hair and a determined expression. He recognized the face instantly.

"Asta?" he whispered, his voice higher-pitched than he expected. He reached up to touch his face, the sensation both familiar and alien. "No way. This... this can't be real."

Then, as if in response to his disbelief, glowing notifications appeared in his vision, their words sharp and clear.

[Welcome to the System]

Name: Asta

Primary Stats:

Physical: 27

Mental: 20

Magic: 0

[Tap a Primary Stat to View Details]

Sebastian blinked, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. Slowly, hesitantly, he focused on the word Physical. Another panel unfolded before him.

Physical Stats:

Strength: 7

Speed: 6

Endurance: 9

Charisma: 5

Curious, he shifted his focus to Mental.

Mental Stats:

Intelligence: 8

Wisdom: 7

Focus: 5

The System seemed straightforward—no quests, no rewards handed out arbitrarily. Progress would be earned through effort and experience. The three primary stats were clear enough:

Physical encompassed strength, speed, endurance, and even charisma.

Mental represented intelligence, wisdom, and focus.

Magic... well, that was at zero, for obvious reasons.

Sebastian took a deep breath, his mind racing. "Okay. I've been reincarnated as Asta, and I have a System. This isn't a dream." The realization was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Over the next few days, Sebastian adjusted to his new reality. Life in Hage Village was simple but demanding. Resources were scarce, and magic was everything. The villagers were kind but wary of Asta's boundless energy and magicless status. Sebastian wasted no time. He knew Asta's future and the challenges ahead. If he wanted to survive—no, thrive—he'd have to work for it and judging from the size of his body and the information he's gained he's five meaning has 10 years to prepare for Canon.

So he threw himself into training, focusing on his Physical stats. Push-ups, running, lifting heavy rocks from the nearby fields—he pushed his young body to its limits daily. Each effort was met with a notification:

[Physical: +1 Strength]

[Physical: +1 Endurance]

The incremental gains were small but consistent. His body adapted quickly, his muscles growing stronger with each passing day.

But Sebastian knew that brute strength alone wouldn't be enough. He needed to develop his mind. Books were scarce in the village, but he borrowed what he could, reading by candlelight late into the night. The System rewarded his efforts:

[New Skill Unlocked: Basic Literacy]

Progression: Literacy (Basic) → Literacy (Advanced) with further study.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

As Sebastian—now Asta—looked out over the fields of Hage Village one evening, he clenched his fists, determination burning in his chest. "If this is my second chance, then I'll make the most of it. I'll become stronger, smarter, and better. This world hasn't seen what I'm capable of yet."