His eyelids twitched.
The first thing he noticed wasn't light.
It was the unfamiliar silence — not peaceful, but wrong.
No hum of the city, no fans, no notifications, no clock ticking beside his bed.
Just the whisper of birds outside.
He slowly opened his eyes. A worn-out ceiling greeted him — faded paint, tiny cracks like veins stretching outward, and a thin wooden beam running across.
His body felt... dull. Weak. Like it hadn't moved in weeks.
"Where... am I?"
The air smelled of old wood, books, and a trace of herbs. It wasn't unpleasant, just unknown.
He forced himself up from the bed — his arms trembled under his weight. Even that felt wrong. This wasn't my body.
The sheets were rough, hand-stitched. The mattress creaked as he moved.
With shaking legs, he stood.
His balance faltered, almost collapsing, but he gritted his teeth and stumbled forward. A small window at the side caught his eye — golden light spilling through.
He reached it, hand resting against the cold wooden frame, and opened it.
Outside, the sky was painted in fire. A vibrant, warm sunrise stretched across the horizon. Rolling hills in the distance shimmered with dew, stone paths cut through sleepy towns, and far off, almost unreachable, a city of silver towers floated in the sky like a dream half-forgotten.
[System Synchronization: 100% Complete.]
[Welcome, User. Initiating Soul Integration Protocol.]
Suddenly — pain.
It crashed through his skull like a hammer.
His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground. His vision blurred. His chest heaved.
Memories that weren't his screamed into his mind — people, names, moments of fear, laughter, hunger, training, loneliness. All woven together in seconds.
He saw the boy whose body this was.
An orphan. Name unknown to most.
He had inherited a small house left behind by a priest from the church. He lived alone. No friends. No family.
His body — cursed by a rare mana-affliction that made him weak. Mana rejected him. Magic drained him. His future was considered... nonexistent.
And yet — this life was now his.
[World-System Recognized: "Eidolon Framework v3.1"]
[Host Level: 1]
[Class: Unawakened]
[Status: Dormant]
Before he could process it—
[Genesis Forge System Online.]
[Unique Protocol Detected: Multisoul Authority Confirmed.]
[Welcome, Architect. Cloning Framework Ready.]
"…What?"
Two systems. One native to this world.
One that didn't belong here.
His.
His mind spun, but something deeper calmed him — logic, observation, adaptation.
I'm in a new world.
In a cursed body.
With two systems — one that levels me up... and one that lets me create life.
A sharp grin touched his lips.
"…So that's how it is."
He stood up fully, gripping the edge of the desk beside him. His arms still weak — but steady. There was a cracked mirror leaning against the wall.
He looked into it.
Pale skin. Messy black hair. Sharp jawline. Slight bags under his eyes. A quiet look in them — not frightened, but... ready.
This wasn't the face he remembered.
But it was a face now tied to something greater.
[Genesis Tokens: 3x Mythic Roll | 1x Divine Roll | 1000 Genesis Credits Granted.]
[Clone Slot: 1/1 Unused]
He turned toward the window again as the sunlight spread further across the land.
"Alright," he said quietly.
"Let's see what this world has to offer."
"But first, let's explore our surroundings."
The morning light streamed through the window, warm and golden. But he was cold — not from the air, but from inside.
His body… this body... was fundamentally broken.
He had tried to move around the room.
Every step was a war. His legs trembled. His breathing was shallow. Even simple movements burned his chest like fire.
It was more than weakness.
It was a curse — a rare disease where the body rejects mana, and in this world, mana was not just energy.
It was life.
"This body won't last long on its own," he muttered. "Then I'll just make one that can."
He sat on the wooden floor and closed his eyes.
[Genesis Forge System — Initiating Clone Creation Menu]
[You have: 3x Mythic Rolls | 1x Divine Roll | 1000 Genesis Credits]
The air shimmered before him, forming translucent panels of deep blue light.
Words appeared, written in an elegant system font.
CLONE CREATION — PROTOTYPE 01
Identity: [Pending]
Core Role: [Custom]
Appearance: [Custom]
Traits: [Choose via ROLL]
Status: No previous clone templates detected.
His heartbeat quickened — not from fear, but excitement.
He hovered his hand over the interface.
[Use Divine Roll — Choose Target: Organ / Trait / Talent / Weapon Core]
"...Heart," he said softly.
He tapped the screen.
[Rolling Divine Organ: Heart...]
…Congratulations. You have acquired — Heart of the Eternal Duelist (Divine Grade)]
A golden light pulsed from the menu.
A detailed organ model floated midair — elegant, glowing with crimson threads that moved like rivers. A calm but terrifying pressure radiated from it.
It adapts to every enemy's rhythm. It silences fear. It dominates through the tempo of battle itself.
"…Perfect," he whispered.
He moved to the next options.
[Mythic Roll #1 — Target: Eyes]
Result: Stellar Stillness Eyes
Track motion. Freeze perception. Slice between seconds.
[Mythic Roll #2 — Target: Talent]
Result: Instinct Carve
Every move seen becomes instinct. Cannot be caught off guard twice.
[Mythic Roll #3 — Target: Physique]
Result: Flowing Qi Veins — Breathless Variant
Moves without breath. Tireless. Silent.
Then came the body.
He selected "Base Race" → Ascended Human Variant: Empty Vessel
— a body with perfect symmetry, optimized growth, and no mutation restrictions.
[Genesis Forge — Calculating Build...]
Clone Type: Martial Combatant
Combat Role: Swordsman / Assassin
Core Focus: Instinct + Speed + Tempo Domination
Appearance: Default Template or Custom?
He paused. Then selected Custom.
Height: 6'2
Hair: Ash-gray
Eyes: One golden, one black
Expression: Calm, unreadable
Clothing: Tattered travel robes, long coat, blindfold (aesthetic only)
Weapon Slot: [Pending Selection]
[WARNING: Clone creation requires Mana or equivalent Core Fuel]
→ Mana level insufficient
→ Substitute available: System Crystal Reserve [x1 Emergency Use]
Use to create low-sustain clone for 6 hours real-time. Extend with resources.
He accepted.
The room darkened slightly. Then the system glowed bright.
From the floor in front of him, a circle of runes burned into existence — white, blue, and gold lines crossing like ancient circuitry.
The light thickened — twisting upward like liquid glass.
A figure slowly formed inside the cocoon.
Lean. Tall. Muscles finely carved. Blindfolded. Hair swaying in unnatural wind. A sword formed beside him — long, simple, without ornament, but terrifyingly sharp.
Then… his eyes opened.
One gold. One black.
They stared straight at him.
The clone spoke.
"Name me, Creator."
He smirked.
"You'll be the first sword I draw in this world."
"Your title… is The Wandering Swordsman."
[Clone Created: "The Wandering Swordsman"]
→ Soul Sync: Linked
→ AI Control: Semi-Autonomous
→ Combat Protocol: Adaptive Learning
→ Time Limit: 6 Hours (Extendable)
→ Clone Slot: 1/1 Active
The swordsman took a step forward, bowed slightly, and said,
"Awaiting your will."
Outside the house, the wind stirred.
Today was the first ripple.
The beginning of a thousand masks.
The world didn't yet know it, but something had just been born.
Not a hero.
Not a villain.
But a creator.
And he had just made his first masterpiece.