Date: March 17, 2037
Location: Elowen Village, Kingdom of Veyra
Altan Yüce's Age: 1
Winter had just ended. The cold winds blowing from the mountains were replaced by the calm, refreshing breath of spring. The stone-walled houses of Elowen village awakened to a new day, accompanied by the scent of pine.
Altan lay on his mother Elara's lap. He was just one year old. His white hair fell gently over his forehead as his bright green eyes followed the birds gliding across the sky. For his age, he was unusually quiet. The elderly women in the village often said, "He's too calm."
But that day was different.
That morning, when the sun's first light touched Altan's eyes, he felt something stir within him. A weight, burning deep in his heart—uncontainable, indescribable. As if a door inside him was about to break open. His body may have been that of a small child, but his soul... his soul was writhing.
And then it happened.
It was like a storm exploded inside his mind. Thousands of images, sounds, and sensations collided in his brain. His eyes widened, trembling. He sat up abruptly in his mother's lap, panting.
Blood. Gunfire. Explosions going off just a step ahead. Soldiers screaming. He was the one shouting. Commanding, striking, leading...
Sefa Yücel.
In an instant, he remembered everything. His codename, the orders, the squad, the sacrifices… the operations, the betrayal, death… and rebirth.
A tremor spread through his tiny body. Elara didn't notice as she gently stroked his head. Altan's eyes were no longer those of a child. They now glowed with the echoes of war, loss, and responsibility. Even his breathing had changed.
> "Altan?" his mother whispered.
But Altan did not answer.
Because the storm inside him had only just begun.
---
The Inner Storm
From that day on, Altan became even more withdrawn. His baby-like behaviors faded rapidly. His hand movements, his expressions, his gaze… now carried the discipline of a warrior. Elara noticed the change in her son. "Children don't grow this fast," she told herself. But she couldn't tell anyone.
Altan knew he had no time to waste. This body had limitations, yes. But the mind... the mind was free. He began forming plans. He had to learn about this world. There were no maps, but he could memorize the land. People didn't carry weapons, but even a stick could be deadly if held correctly.
A one-year-old child… but inside him lived a 35-year-old fallen commander.
---
Time Skip – Altan at Age 3
Altan was now walking. Running. He would wake up before his mother and venture into the woods for short explorations. Though he had just started speaking, each word was deliberate and meaningful. Carefully chosen.
He didn't play with the other children of Elowen. He didn't want to. Instead, he wandered alone through the trees. He carved spears from branches and shaped stones with skillful hands. He was still an only child. And that gave him time.
One day, his father Doran saw him standing before a sack filled with straw and nails, punching it. With small hands... slow but determined.
> "What are you doing there?" Doran asked.
> "Trying to strike the center. From inside the balance," Altan replied.
> "What does that mean?"
> "I don't know. It just came to me."
Doran didn't understand, but he said nothing. He didn't mention it to Elara either. He saw the light in Altan's eyes.
And that light... belonged to another world.
---
Time Skip – Altan at Age 5
When Altan turned five, there was no longer any doubt. His memory had fully returned. Step by step, he recalled his entire past. The names of his squad mates, the details of betrayal, the final sacrifice… the moment of death and rebirth…
Everything was crystal clear.
But along with those memories came a bitter truth: He was now alone.
In this world, no one knew him. War, systems, technology… none of it existed here. Here, there was only earth. Iron and wood. Swords. Bows. Horses.
But he would adapt.
Every night before sleeping, he would bring forth a scene from his past life and replay it in his mind. Remembering hurt—but forgetting would be a far greater betrayal. Because he had made a vow:
> "I will become a greater leader. This time, none of my men will die in vain."
---
Conclusion and Transition
The light of leadership within Altan had begun to show. Those who observed his actions whispered, "That's no ordinary child."
Elara sometimes watched her son through tears, hiding them behind closed doors. Because she knew—her son would never be just a farmer.
That evening, Elara looked long and hard at Altan. As a mother, her heart tightened.
> "One day... I'm afraid I'll lose you," she said.
Altan nodded.
"I was already lost, mother. Now I've found you."
Elara didn't understand the words. But Altan did.
His fate was already set.
This world was his new battlefield.
And this time, every move he made would be calculated