Chapter 1: The Awakening
Caspian was surrounded by darkness. It felt like a heavy, suffocating blanket pressing down on him, making it difficult to breathe. Time seemed to stand still in the void, and the coldness seeped deep into his bones. It was as though he was floating in an endless abyss, unable to move, unable to speak. One thought echoed in his mind, repeating over and over: "Liora... you didn't deserve that."
The thought kept cycling through his mind, a haunting refrain that grew louder until a sliver of light pierced the darkness. It was a blinding, overwhelming light that swallowed the void, enveloping Caspian completely. For a brief, disorienting moment, he felt like he was drifting through empty space, weightless and detached.
When Caspian's eyes snapped open, he found himself staring at a wooden ceiling. The air was heavy with the scent of old wood and the faint aroma of freshly baked bread. Sunlight leaked through the cracks, casting slanted patterns across the room. The warmth of the light contrasted sharply with the suffocating chill he had just escaped.
"Where... am I?" he muttered, his voice thin and unfamiliar. The sound startled him. It was the voice of a child — high-pitched, almost fragile.
He tried to sit up, but his body felt weak, his limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Panic bubbled up inside him as he stared down at his hands — small, chubby, and delicate. His heart raced as he stumbled out of bed, his legs wobbling beneath him. Desperately, he rushed to the small mirror in the room, his breath coming out in sharp, shallow pants.
The face staring back at him was that of a young boy, no older than five. Dark, messy hair framed a pair of wide, amber eyes. His cheeks were round, flushed with confusion and fear. Caspian's reflection looked terrified — a stranger wearing his mind.
"This can't be," he whispered, his small hands trembling. "This... this isn't me."
Memories crashed over him, a tidal wave of fragmented images. Late nights spent reading "Twilight Kingdom," the gripping story of Liora Elden's tragic descent into madness. The heartbreaking end where the villainess was crushed under the weight of her family's ruthless expectations, while the heroine, Elara Caine, rose to power. Liora, once a bright, spirited girl, was driven to desperation, her innocence twisted into something dark and vengeful.
"Did I... die? Or was it just a dream?" Caspian murmured, pressing a trembling hand to his forehead. But he knew the answer. This wasn't a dream. He was inside the world of "Twilight Kingdom," the very novel he had just finished reading. But in this world, he wasn't the protagonist. He wasn't even a supporting character. He was just... someone.
"Caspian," a gentle voice said, pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts.
The door creaked open, and an elderly woman stepped inside. Her greying hair was pulled back into a simple bun, and her eyes, though kind, were tired and worn. She wore a plain, patched dress, her back slightly hunched from years of hard work. "You're awake," she said softly, her expression one of concern. "You were muttering in your sleep. Are you alright?"
Caspian blinked, the word "Mother" forming on his lips, but it died there. The woman wasn't his mother. There was no mother. She was just a caretaker from the village orphanage. That hollow ache gnawed at him, a reminder of the life he no longer had.
"I... I'm fine," he said, forcing a weak smile. The woman nodded, her rough, calloused hand patting his head gently. "Good. Breakfast is ready. You don't want to keep Elara waiting."
Elara.
The name sent a chill down his spine. In the novel, Elara Caine was the perfect noble lady — kind-hearted, idealistic, and naive. Her rise to power was the catalyst for Liora's downfall. Elara was the shining star that cast Liora into shadow.
But now, she was just a little girl. Sweet. Innocent. Oblivious to the future that awaited her.
Caspian swallowed hard. He was a mere extra in a story he knew all too well. A background character. Insignificant. But he knew what was coming. He knew the suffering that awaited Liora. The suffering that would start with Elara's rise to power.
"I have to get stronger," he muttered, his small fists clenching at his sides. "Before the story begins. Before Liora's life falls apart."
Images of the novel's events raced through his mind — Liora's suffering, Elara's ascent, and his own insignificance. He was nothing more than a footnote in the grand scheme of things. A nobody.
"No," he said, his voice firm despite its small, childlike pitch. "I won't let it end that way. I won't stay powerless."
In this world, weakness was a death sentence. Those without power were trampled underfoot, discarded and forgotten. But Caspian refused to be just another victim of fate. He refused to be just another extra in someone else's story.
A spark of determination ignited in his eyes. The mana awakening was approaching, a ceremony that would determine his future potential. It would decide whether he had the talent to rise above his station or remain a powerless extra. Whatever the outcome, Caspian swore he would not stay weak.
Because in this world, power was everything — and Caspian was
determined to seize it, no matter what it took.