The forest floor was damp, the dew soaking through the knees of Khal’s threadbare trousers. He didn’t even notice the cold anymore — not because he was used to it, but because his mind was too fogged with doubt to care.

  He’d failed to mimic the sword swing again.

  The movement was awkward, clumsy. He lost his balance halfway through the arc and nearly toppled into the brush. When he stood, breathing hard and rubbing his sore elbow, he clenched his jaw to keep the frustration inside.

  “Why am I even doing this...?”

  His voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. The forest didn’t answer.

  He looked down at his hands — pale, trembling. They didn’t belong to a warrior. They didn’t belong to anyone special. Just the same useless hands that had failed him in that other life too.

  [SYSTEM NOTICE: Incomplete Form – Skill not registered.]

  Of course.

  He sat down, pulling his knees to his chest. “It’s not working,” he muttered. “I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

  He hadn’t told anyone about the voice in his head — the strange system that whispered things no one else could see. It terrified him more than it gave him hope. A “Heart of Becoming”? What did that even mean? Becoming what?

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The boy who couldn’t survive a year in his last life? The boy who now couldn’t even stand up to a bunch of kids with sticks?

  The memory of Bram and the others still burned. He hadn’t even fought back properly. He barely moved. It wasn’t courage that held him back — it was fear. Fear of being hurt, of messing up, of being a burden. Again.

  He buried his face in his arms.

  That’s when the rustling came.

  His head shot up.

  A bush across from him shifted, then parted. Something small and scruffy crawled out. Khal blinked.

  It was… a fox?

  No — not quite. Its ears were too big, and its fur shimmered faintly in the shade, a soft blend of ash-gray and silver. Its eyes, golden and wide, met his. It looked… skinny. Maybe younger than full-grown.

  It sniffed the air.

  Khal froze.

  The creature padded closer, cautious but curious.

  “I don’t have food,” Khal said softly. “Just a weak heart and some self-pity.”

  To his surprise, the little creature sat in front of him.

  Stared.

  Then… licked his knee.

  Khal stared back, unsure if he should cry or laugh.

  The animal pressed its head into his side, like it had made up its mind. Khal, uncertain, slowly reached out and brushed its fur. Warm. Real. Grounding.

  Maybe… he wasn’t as alone as he thought.

  That night, he crept back to the caretaker’s hut, the fox padding quietly behind him. He didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t even name it.

  He just let it curl up beside him by the hearth.

  For the first time in days, Khal slept without a nightmare.

  [SYSTEM NOTICE: Emotional state stabilized. Trait evolution potential unlocked.]

  [Heart of Becoming – Reaction Registered: Connection.]

  [New Bond Detected: Soul-Familiar Tier – Pending Identification.]

  Khal didn’t understand what it meant.

  But for the first time in his short, second life… he didn’t feel like giving up.

  Not yet.