Rebirth of the Prince: System of Fate

Alexius, no, Taro, sat upright in his bed, his breathing shallow. The faint glow of the system's interface lingered in the dim room, flickering like a candle in the wind. His mind spun with questions as he stared at the words suspended in the air.

[Fatebound System Activated]

You have been chosen. Your destiny begins here.

"What… are you?" Taro finally asked aloud, his voice hoarse. He felt foolish talking to empty air, but the system responded immediately, the voice smooth, precise, and distinctly neutral.

"I am the Fatebound System, designed to guide you toward the fulfillment of your potential," it said. "Through me, you will find strength, knowledge, and tools to navigate the challenges of your new existence."

The voice was calm and unwavering, yet there was an enigmatic undertone to it, a hint of something more, something hidden beneath its calculated exterior.

"And what's the catch?" Taro asked, narrowing his eyes. He didn't trust this strange, otherworldly entity, not after waking up in a body that wasn't his own, in a world that seemed bent on tearing him apart.

The system paused, as if contemplating his question. "I exist to assist, not control. The path you walk, the choices you make, are your own. However…" The voice trailed off, cryptic. "The depths of my purpose are not yet for you to know."

Taro frowned. "Helpful," he muttered.

Despite his skepticism, curiosity gnawed at him. He couldn't deny that the system's presence felt… oddly reassuring. It was the first thing in this strange new life that didn't seem actively hostile.

"You said you'll guide me," he ventured cautiously. "How? What can you actually do?"

"For now, I will provide opportunities, resources, and insight," the system replied. "To understand your current situation, I suggest you access the memory archive of this body's former host."

Taro's breath caught. He hadn't expected that. The idea of sifting through someone else's life, of seeing the world through their eyes, was unsettling, but it also held the promise of answers.

"Why would you let me see that?" he asked, his voice wary.

"You inhabit his form," the system said simply. "His memories are yours to inherit. Understanding the life he lived will strengthen your ability to adapt and survive."

Taro hesitated, his hands clenching the bedsheets. Did he really want to see the life Alexius had endured? He already knew enough to guess it hadn't been a happy one. But if he was going to survive in this cutthroat family and kingdom, he needed every scrap of knowledge he could get.

"Do it," he said finally.

[Memory Archive Accessing…]

The room around him melted away, replaced by a swirling vortex of light and shadow. Taro felt as though he were sinking, his body weightless. Then, abruptly, he was no longer himself.

He was a small boy, no older than five, crouched in a corner of a dark, cold room. The stone walls loomed around him, oppressive and unfeeling. His breath came in shallow gasps as he hugged his knees, trying to make himself invisible.

Outside the door, voices rose in anger.

"You should've sent the bastard to the orphanage!" a woman's voice hissed, sharp, venomous.

"And risk the scandal spreading?" a man replied. "No. Let him stay here. Out of sight, out of mind."

The door slammed, and young Alexius flinched.

The memory shifted.

He was older now, ten perhaps, standing awkwardly at the edge of a grand hall. His siblings were gathered around the King, their laughter echoing through the room. Alexius watched them with wide, hopeful eyes, clutching a crude wooden sword in his hand.

"Father," he said hesitantly, his voice barely audible over the din. "Can I… can I train with them?"

The King barely glanced at him. "Not now, Alexius," he said, his tone dismissive. "Go play elsewhere."

The sting of those words burned hotter than any physical wound.

Another shift.

He was on the training grounds, a teenager now. His brothers circled him, their wooden practice swords gleaming in the sunlight. Cassian stood at the forefront, his stance relaxed but his eyes predatory.

"Come on, little brother," Cassian taunted, twirling his sword lazily. "Show us what you've got."

Alexius charged, desperation driving his every movement. But Cassian was faster, stronger, more skilled. The wooden sword cracked against Alexius' ribs, sending him sprawling into the dirt. Laughter erupted around him, harsh and unforgiving.

"Pathetic," Cassian sneered, standing over him. "You don't belong here."

Taro gasped as the memories faded, the oppressive weight of Alexius' past lingering in his chest. He was back in his chambers, but the pain of those moments felt real, as if he'd lived them himself.

"So that's the life he led," Taro muttered, his throat tight. The loneliness, the rejection, the constant struggle to prove himself, it all made sense now.

"The memories serve as context," the system said, its voice breaking the silence. "You now understand the weight of this body's past. It is your choice whether to carry it forward or leave it behind."

Taro exhaled shakily. He couldn't ignore what he'd seen, couldn't pretend it didn't matter. Alexius had wanted so badly to be something more, to escape the shadow of his birth. If Taro was going to live in his place, he owed it to him to at least try.

"What now?" he asked.

The system's tone shifted, becoming almost… encouraging. "You have taken your first step. To aid you, I will provide a starter boon."

Taro's eyes widened as the interface shimmered.

[Starter Pack Unlocked: Swordmaster's Insight]

"What's that?" he asked, leaning forward.

"An innate comprehension of all foundational sword techniques," the system explained. "You will gain the ability to grasp and execute all sword arts with ease. However, mastery will still require dedication and practice."

Taro's heart pounded as the knowledge seeped into his mind. Techniques, forms, and movements that should have taken years to learn felt as natural as breathing.

He found a practice sword leaning against the corner of the room, likely discarded after one of his siblings' training sessions. He gripped it tightly, its weight unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

Standing in the middle of his chamber, he took a deep breath and raised the sword. The movements came to him instinctively, his body flowing through the motions as though he'd been training for years. The blade cut through the air with precision, each swing feeling deliberate and powerful.

A small, incredulous laugh escaped him. It worked.

But as he lowered the sword, a shadow of doubt crept in. The system had given him this gift, but why? What did it stand to gain?

"What's the price?" he whispered to himself.

The system remained silent.

Taro tightened his grip on the sword, his resolve hardening. Whatever the cost, he would face it when the time came. For now, he had the means to fight back, to carve a place for himself in this world.

He wasn't the old Alexius, but he wasn't Taro anymore, either. He was something new, someone who would no longer bow to anyone's scorn.

"I'll survive," he murmured, raising the sword once more. "No matter what it takes."