MTLNOVEL Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Rebirth of the Twin Son
**Chapter 1: Rebirth of the Twin Son**
Darkness.
That was the first thing he registered. A void stretching infinitely, absent of warmth, light, or sound. His last memory was of screeching tires, the blaring horn of a truck, and the dull thud of his body against metal. He had died—there was no question about that.
Yet, he was conscious.
A voice, deep and ancient, resonated in the void. "You have been chosen."
Chosen? His mind raced. Was this some kind of afterlife? He had read enough stories about reincarnation and systems to recognize the possibility. But why him?
The voice continued. "You shall be reborn, granted a new life in a world of gods and monsters. As a boon, you will receive the Template System."
A translucent screen materialized before him, breaking the darkness.
---
[Template System Initializing…]
[First Template: Randomized Selection]
---
A massive wheel appeared, adorned with names—legendary warriors, mythical figures, and historical conquerors. His heartbeat, or what he assumed was his soul's equivalent, quickened as the wheel began to spin.
Faster. Faster. The names blurred together until finally—
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[Template Acquired: Hercules (Berserker) – Fate Grand Order]
[Integration: 0%]
---
His mind buzzed with the implications. *Hercules.* A demigod of unparalleled strength, the Berserker form in *Fate/Grand Order* was a relentless juggernaut, nearly invincible in battle. His mind barely had time to process before the void collapsed, and warmth enveloped him.
A new sensation—being cradled, soft hands supporting his small form. A new world awaited him.
---
Athenor's first cries echoed through the wooden cabin. The cold air of the north bit at his newborn skin, his tiny body shivering as he gasped his first breath. His vision was blurry, but the outline of a woman's face hovered above him. She was beautiful—strong yet gentle, her silver hair flowing like silk.
Faye. His mother.
Beside her, towering and imposing, was a man with a fierce expression. A scar ran across his eye, and his presence alone exuded power.
Kratos.
Athenor's thoughts swirled in a mix of awe and trepidation. He had been reborn as the son of the Ghost of Sparta. And not just that—he had a twin.
Another cry filled the room, softer but just as desperate for air. The midwife turned, holding another baby in her arms. "A second son. Twins."
Faye, exhausted but glowing with happiness, reached out. "Athenor… and Atreus."
Kratos remained silent, his gaze heavy as he observed both children. He took Athenor into his arms, holding him carefully, his large hands nearly engulfing the infant's tiny form.
"He is strong," Kratos murmured. "Both of them are."
Faye smiled, though weariness clung to her. "They will need to be."
Athenor could barely keep his eyes open, exhaustion overcoming him. His mind drifted as a notification flickered in the back of his consciousness.
---
[Template Integration: 1%]
---
Sleep took him, his new journey only beginning.
---
The early days of his life passed in a haze of warmth and quiet. Athenor quickly realized how much of a contrast his parents were. Faye was kind, and nurturing, always humming soft lullabies in a language he did not understand. Kratos, while distant, was ever-watchful. There was no softness in his voice, but his presence was reassuring, protective.
Atreus, his twin, was smaller than him, but his eyes held a sharp curiosity. Even as infants, their differences were clear. Atreus was quick to observe, always grasping at things with eager hands. Athenor, on the other hand, felt something deeper within him—an instinctual pull toward strength.
Each day, his body grew stronger. By six months, he could crawl with ease, his limbs supporting more weight than a normal infant should. The system remained silent, no new prompts or abilities emerging, only that faint percentage indicator in the back of his mind.
One day, as Kratos sat by the fire sharpening his axe, Athenor found himself drawn toward him. Crawling with surprising speed, he reached out and grabbed onto his father's arm.
Kratos raised an eyebrow. "Persistent."
Athenor's grip tightened. Kratos seemed to recognize the determination in his son's eyes. With a sigh, he placed the axe down and carefully lifted Athenor onto his lap.
"You will know hardship," Kratos muttered, more to himself than to the child. "Strength alone is not enough."
Athenor cooed, grasping at Kratos's fingers. The Spartan studied him for a moment longer before speaking again.
"Strength must be tempered. Controlled."
Faye chuckled from across the room, holding Atreus in her arms. "He is barely past half a year, Kratos. Already preparing him for battle?"
Kratos grunted but did not reply. Athenor, despite not being able to speak yet, felt the weight of his father's words. His past life had been ordinary, filled with mundane struggles. But this? This was different. He was born into a world of gods and monsters. He had been given the template of Hercules, a warrior destined for greatness.
And Kratos—his father—would make sure he was ready.
---
Time passed, and Athenor's growth accelerated. By his first birthday, his body was already showing signs of extraordinary strength. Crawling had turned into walking, walking into climbing, and climbing into testing his limits against the environment around him.
One morning, as Kratos chopped wood outside, Athenor wobbled his way toward him. The toddler reached out, wrapping his small hands around the handle of an axe far too large for him.
Kratos watched in silence as his son struggled, his tiny arms shaking with effort.
A message flashed before Athenor's eyes.
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[Training Recognized – Template Progression +2%]
[Integration: 3%]
---
Athenor's eyes widened. He felt it—something deep within his body, a flicker of the legendary strength he had been promised. The weight of the axe, once unbearable, felt lighter in his grip.
Kratos finally spoke. "You are too young."
Athenor pouted, but Kratos's gaze softened, if only slightly. He reached down and took the axe from Athenor's grip, setting it aside.
"Strength must be earned."
Athenor nodded, determination burning in his young eyes. He would earn it. Bit by bit, training under his father's watchful eye, he would grow into the power that had been granted to him.
His path was set. His future was his to claim.
---
[End of Chapter 1]