Darkness.
Kenthelion Celestus woke up in a cold, eerie silence. There were no soft beds, no sounds of vehicles, only the damp smell of wet earth and the cold, thick air. He coughed lightly, the echo of his breath reverberating softly in the narrow stone room. A cave. He was in a cave.
His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light filtering through cracks above. Once he managed to sit up, he immediately realized something was wrong—his body felt different. The muscles under his skin felt far more dense, his movements were not clumsy, but instead… powerful. It was as if his body had been designed for battle, not a normal life.
"What… is this?" he murmured, his voice sounding deeper and more resolute than usual. He raised his hand and stared at it—large, strong, as if belonging to a fictional character he'd once played in his previous world. But this was real. Too real.
With trembling steps, he rose and walked toward the light. The world outside the cave left him frozen. The forest stretched endlessly, with trees so massive they nearly blocked the sky, the leaves thick like a fog, and the distant howls of unknown creatures echoing in the distance. The sun barely pierced through the canopy. A planet he had never seen before.
He cautiously approached a clear pool of water and looked down... and froze.
The face reflected in the water was not his own.
His face was sharp, commanding, like that of an ancient noble from long ago. Golden hair cascaded down past his shoulders in soft waves, sculpted as though carved by divine hands. His eyes were sharp, yet held a calmness as though he had led thousands of soldiers into battle. His face was perfect, with a strong jawline, a high nose, and skin that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light filtering through the trees. This was not the face of an ordinary young man—this was the face of a young emperor, a king destined to lead humanity.
Kenthelion staggered back, his heart pounding. "This... this can't be…" He glanced at his hands, his body again. Even his breath felt alien.
Then, a sharp pain struck his head like a hammer. He fell to his knees, gripping the ground as he suppressed a cry. Fragments of memories that were not his own flooded in—flashes of warfare in space, fleets of starships bowing before him, alien creatures annihilated with a single command.
He saw himself sitting upon a massive golden throne, thousands of people kneeling, chanting one name: "Deus Imperator."
Kenthelion screamed—not from the pain, but from the fear. How could he, an ordinary young man from a world of games and novels, suddenly be in the legendary body of… Emperor Mankind?
"No... no way... I'm just..." His words trailed off. He lifted his gaze, staring at the foreign forest before him.
This world hadn't given him the answers yet.
But one thing was certain: Kenthelion Celestus had been reborn… as the last heir of humanity.