Reincarnated With Three Unique Skills

"Don't break the cycle, my foolish old self! Thy you will be erased."

The sudden ethereal, transcendent voice echoed in Aengus's mind like a thunderclap reverberating through eternity. It carried an authority that seemed unmatched, spanning eons and beyond the constraints of time itself.

Startled, Aengus instinctively searched for the source of the voice, but it was futile. No matter where he looked, the voice seemed to transcend space and time, existing beyond his comprehension.

He sighed deeply, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like an invisible hand. The voice... his voice, from the future, was trying to manipulate him, urging him to uphold the cycle.

"They talked about a cycle," Aengus thought, his fists clenching tightly. A cycle of torment? Endless repetition? If they've failed before, what's the point of following the same doomed path?

His mind raced, weighing the risks and possibilities. The desperation in the voice of his future self was clear—it spoke of failure, of a destiny shackled by predetermination.

"I don't want to be a puppet of fate and destiny anymore," he muttered, his voice laced with defiance. "This is my chance. My moment to break free of their grasp. To choose my own path."

Aengus's eyes glinted with raw determination as he made his choice.

"I will not follow their path. I will not submit to the chains of a failed destiny."

The air around him seemed to hum with his resolve, the weight of his decision sending ripples across the unseen forces binding him to the cycle.

This was his stand, his rebellion against eternity. He had chosen freedom, no matter the cost.

The fated moment had arrived.

A 16-year-old boy with black hair and a school bag slung over one shoulder stepped off the school bus. His head was bowed, and his movements were slow and dispirited. Bruises marred his face, a clear reminder of yet another rough day. He looked utterly defeated, a figure that would stir sympathy in the heart of any kind soul. But in truth he was weak and Cowardly.

This boy was Ethan—Aengus's past self.

Watching this pathetic display of his former life, Aengus felt a wave of disgust wash over him. He hadn't just been weak; he had been utterly powerless, unable to stand up for himself or fight back against his bullies.

"This was me?" Aengus thought, his expression darkening. His eyes bore into the boy's hunched figure, recalling the feelings of shame, helplessness, and self-loathing that had consumed him at that time.

He clenched his fists tightly, his towering, godlike presence seeming out of place in the mundane reality surrounding him. The vast chasm between who he had become and who he once was had never felt more jarring. Explore stories at empire

"No courage, no strength... I truly was a weak, pathetic creature," Aengus muttered under his breath.

Bella stood silently by his side, observing his inner turmoil. She didn't need to say anything; she could feel the storm brewing within him. This was a confrontation with his past that no amount of strength or power could prepare him for.

Aengus closed his eyes briefly, steeling himself. "The past is what made me who I am, but it does not define me. This moment... this is where it all began."

The choice he had to make loomed closer, heavier than ever.

"Huh?"

The boy stumbled against Aengus' solid frame, feeling an inexplicable jolt of energy course through his body.

Startled, Ethan looked up at the man towering over him. The man's sharp, penetrating gaze was enough to send chills down the boy's spine. Instinctively, Ethan felt a twinge of fear, but also an odd sense of awe.

"U-Uncle, who are you? W-what are you doing in front of my house?" Ethan stammered, his voice trembling slightly.

Aengus knelt slightly and placed a large, steady hand on Ethan's head. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a surprising difference compared to his imposing presence.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Ethan couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as he looked at the man, whose powerful aura and commanding presence were everything he lacked. For a moment, the stranger's kindness reminded Ethan of his parents—whose faces were becoming blurrier in his fading memories.

"Grow up strong," Aengus said softly, his deep voice resonating with a calm authority. As he spoke, a faint surge of energy passed from his hand into Ethan, a transfer of power and abilities that would alter the trajectory of his life.

This act was a gamble—a dangerous one. Aengus knew that by changing this moment, he might risk his very existence. Yet, he couldn't ignore the possibility of a different outcome, one that could break the cycle and give Ethan a fighting chance.

Without another word, Aengus straightened and turned to Bella. "Let's go, Bella," he said firmly.

Bella, who had been silently observing the interaction, misinterpreted his actions as he was doing the fated move. She thought he was cursing his younger self, the reason they were sent to the past. She felt pity for the younger Aengus. Yet, deep down, she selfishly wished her husband Aengus would stay by her side, cold and detached. This tormenting even is unavoidable, she thought.

Obediently, she followed behind him as they walked away.

Ethan stood there, frozen in confusion, watching the enigmatic pair disappear down the street. His heart raced as he processed the odd sensation coursing through him, as if a hidden strength had awakened. He didn't know who the man was or why he had said those words, but something inside him had changed.

---

""Hubby, you did it, right?" Bella asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty as they strolled aimlessly down the street.

Aengus didn't look back. Instead, he shook his head and said calmly, "No. I didn't. I chose freedom."

Bella stopped in her tracks. Her figure trembled as she processed his words.

"Why? Why did you do that, Aengus? Do we really mean nothing to you?" Bella's voice cracked with emotion, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "What if something happens to you? What will I do then?"

Aengus finally turned to face her, his expression a mixture of determination and regret. "I had to do it, my wife. Otherwise, I would feel like nothing more than a puppet. But don't worry—nothing is set in stone yet. There are many secrets we don't know yet. Who's to say I won't survive?" His tone was hopeful, though a shadow of uncertainty lingered in his eyes.

Before Bella could respond, the screeching sound of tires pierced the air.

Screech! Screech!

Several military vans skidded to a halt, encircling them in a tight formation. Armed soldiers poured out, their weapons directly aimed on the couple.

"Hands up! You're under arrest!"