Eighteen years after a mob enforcer’s bullet ended his life on Earth, Ezra’s consciousness transmigrated into a new, infant body.
He woke up in a stranger’s arms less than two decades ago, and learned this new world’s rules. It was a place subtly identical, yet wildly different from his old life, and he quickly found plenty he liked and plenty more he didn’t.
It was a strange kind of paradise, one where even wonder had its limits. The rules here are operated by different logic.
What had once been normal back in his old world, now felt askew, and what should have been strange seemed perfectly natural. Some changes delighted him.
And others? Well, they made him wish he was in charge so he could change them. Because they left him unsettled.
But one difference that struck him immediately was how beauty had been accessible to everyone. Every woman in his life, even the ones he encountered randomly possessed the kind of stunning looks that would have stopped traffic in his old world. Flawless skin, perfect proportions, eyes that sparkled with an almost supernatural allure, it was as universal as breathing.
The paradox wasn’t lost on him. In a place where perfection was commonplace, it had lost its power to captivate him mostly. His standards had warped beyond recognition; what once would have left him speechless now barely registered.
Only the truly exceptional, those rare individuals who somehow transcended even this world’s elevated baseline—could capture his attention anymore.
And what was the thing he didn’t like? Well, it was a serious one. One that made even the things he liked feel like they were useless. Men in this world, were looked at like they weren’t at the same level as women. His kind were seen as less.
At first, he thought he’d been reborn. But no. This wasn’t reincarnation. It was something else entirely. A cosmic hijacking.
A teenager now, Ezra sat alone in a classroom long after the others had left, hunched over a codex he wasn’t supposed to have. Its worn pages smelled of dust and forgotten knowledge.
The faint hum of Vitae energy, usually a calming presence, now felt like a buzzing alarm.
He stared at the book in front of him. It was about magic. Specifically, how a man, rare, fading, and considered obsolete, might awaken powers in a world that insisted he couldn’t and should never even try.
Ezra’s gaze traced the ancient script, his lips moving silently. But within seconds, he groaned. "Ugh. What does this even have to do with magic? Who doesn’t already know this history crap?"
He debated skipping ahead. Maybe the cool stuff was buried deeper, past the boring lore dump. But knowing his luck, he’d miss the one critical line like, ’Don’t skip this or your eyeballs explode.’
"Fine, whatever," he muttered. "Guess I’m reading it."
He leaned back, frown deepening, and started again, eyes scanning the page like it personally offended him.
’A thousand years ago, this world wasn’t ruled by the Matriarchy. Nor were they at war with the monsters and beasts now raining from the stars...
Men and women shared the weight of survival, bleeding and building side by side. Then the Scorch Fall War tore it all apart.
Empires like Crassia and Delmond, names now whispered like curses, unleashed their nuclear arsenals on one another. Skies blackened. Cities crumbled. Billions burned.
From the ashes, a few million survivors clawed their way through poisoned soil and endless winters. Humanity teetered on the edge of oblivion. Until she returned.
The Goddess Marea hit the reset button on humanity’s wiring. Women got super strength, healing like comic book heroes, senses sharper than a debt collector’s nose.
Men got a cosmic middle finger—or maybe they were just unlucky. Radiation twisted their biology, fraying their strength and clouding their minds. Male births dwindled. Many were stillborn. And for the rest? The Fade Virus could claim them at any time. Survival was never guaranteed.
Hell, even the newborn whose body Ezra transmigrated into didn’t survive. And that was the norm; the few who survived were anomalies: healthy, but forever marked as less.
A few centuries later, after Goddess Marea’s intervention, the world found its new shape. Queendoms rose.
War-Ladys led the defense of Sectors, commanding battalions against the beasts that prowled the shattered wilds. They were more than soldiers–tacticians, priestesses, queens.
Icons of feminine perfection, genetically blessed by the Goddess herself.
Magic and tech were no longer separate; they were married, fused in a union that defied nature.
It was breathtaking, dangerous, and undeniably alive.
Ezra, a transmigrated soul now inhabiting a new body, should’ve been thrilled. He’d read enough isekai web novels to expect a cheat code: a glowing interface, a snarky talking sword, maybe a shady spirit guide.
Instead, he got a world where women punched through steel, and men were barred from owning land, or much else. And he liked the first part. The second part? Not so much.
At 18, Ezra had mostly adjusted. He still called himself Ezra privately. The name Zaeryn was given to him by his adopted mom, Ysmeine, but he still liked to refer to himself with the name he had in his last life, because the name he was given in this world sounded a bit weird. It had a feminine vibe to it.
Transmigrating into a baby was weirdly nice, at least compared to dodging mobsters over forty grand back on Earth.
But the upsides were not much compared to the downsides sometimes. Here, he was still broke, still unlucky, but the stakes felt higher.
On Earth, he’d had a shot to be something.
Here? Well... here, the world simply smiled kindly and told him he didn’t matter.
He couldn’t train with a blade. He couldn’t join the Sectors to fight the monsters that roared beyond the city’s barriers and threatened civilization—not that he was itching to die, but the choice would’ve been nice.
To be fair, it wasn’t all bad. This planet was breathtaking, and being surrounded by women who looked like they’d stepped straight off the cover of an isekai smut novel? Not exactly a hardship.
Danger had its thrill—at a safe distance, of course. Sometimes, he even fantasized about wielding power and fighting alongside the War-lady’s. But that was never going to happen. So, he downgraded his ambitions to something more... achievable: a harem.
Still, in all the worst ways, this place felt the same. Yet, in all the best ways, it was better.
Academies were off-limits unless a High Matron vouched for you, and they never did that unless you were someone very exceptional, particularly those with the rare ability to sire children. Marea’s cosmic rewrite had rendered most men infertile, forcing women to rely on alternative methods for procreation.
Most men worked fields, kept their heads down, and obeyed.
Ezra, or Zaeryn as he was known here, wasn’t built for obedience, though.
He stopped reading the book and blew air through his lips, muttering, "Where’s my damn system?"
In those old stories he used to read on Earth, a hero like him would’ve stumbled across a hidden power by now, a forgotten relic, a god’s whisper, something game-breaking.
But this world’s rules were ironclad.
Still, Ezra wasn’t just rare; he was sharp. Stronger than most men, quick-witted, with reflexes that had saved him from a collapsing scaffold last summer. He wasn’t useless. He just needed a crack in the system, a way to bend the rules.
And he had already found one. Recently, he’d read about a "restricted archive" in the city’s lower spire, a vault of pre-Scorch texts, maybe even relics from before Marea’s return.
If magic and tech could rewrite biology, maybe something in there could rewrite him. He didn’t have a system like he hoped for, but perhaps, if he could be a bit more powerful, he would be okay with that.
A forbidden book. A hidden spark. Something to make him more than what he was right now.
If any of this was true, if any part of it could be real, it meant there was a crack in the foundation of everything the Matrons believed.
Ezra continued reading. That was when the electric door hissed open behind him.
He slammed the codex shut and slid it beneath his e-devices.
Professor Tiffany strode in, her presence filling the room. Her braided hair, usually pulled back, cascaded over one shoulder, showing off the curves of her fitted, knee-length skirt and the soft fabric of her top that hugged her ample chest.
The warm, spicy, and distinctly feminine scent of her perfume drifted to him, making the air suddenly pleasant.
Her gaze, sharp and assessing, locked onto him with a look that showed how pleased she was to see him. "Still here, Zaeryn? Class ended ages ago."
Ezra adjusted his posture, feigning casualness, his eyes fixed on the tablet in his hand as if he’d been studying for the longest time. "Just catching up, Tiffany. Exams are coming up, and I want high grades," he muttered.
Tiffany’s brow arched, her lips twitching into a smile that said she wasn’t buying his bullshit for a second. "Catching up, huh? That wouldn’t include the banned book you’re practically sitting on, would it?"
Well, crap. He didn’t hide the codex properly, and she saw it! Now what? Was he in trouble?
Oh yes he was.