It hurts so much!
It was all I knew.
It wasn't the kind of pain that dulled over time, that a man could grit his teeth and endure.
No, this was torment in its purest form—unrelenting, ceaseless, and infinite. His skull felt as if it were being split apart by a rusted blade, jagged and merciless.
His skin...if he still had any, was being flayed by invisible hands, layer by layer, until only raw, exposed agony remained.
Zain wanted to scream.
But he had no voice.
Zain wanted to fight.
But he had no body.
Zain wanted to exist.
But in this void, even that was being stripped away.
Falling endlessly.
He had been falling for so long that time had lost all meaning. He no longer knew where he was, nor did he know where he was going. Was this the end? Was this death?
Was this his punishment?
What did he ever do to someone?
At first, there had been a faint light above him. Hope.
But it had dimmed, swallowed by the abyss, leaving him alone in the dark.
Where am I?
Am I not dead yet?
Why am I still conscious?
Where are my children?
Questions formed, but the void had no answers—only silence, only suffering.
Was this all that awaited a man after death? No peace, no final rest, just… emptiness?
Perhaps that was fair. He had spent his life enduring hardship, pushing forward with broken hands and a shattered soul. He had thought, foolishly, that death would be his release. That he had earned peace.
But no.
Even in death, Zain was denied rest.
Then...
A sound.
A whisper, faint and distant, like a breeze in the stillness.
A glow, purple and gentle, spreading through the darkness like ink in water.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the pain lessened. The knives digging into his mind withdrew, the fire in his skull simmered, and the weight of nothingness lifted just enough for him to remember who he was.
"Relax, my friend."
The voice was calm, smooth almost amused.
Before ,Zain could resist, he found himself drifting toward the light, helpless against its pull.
"Come, friend. I've been waiting for you… for a long time. So, how was your life on Earth? Pretty shitty, right?"
Zain stilled.
Of all the things he had expected from the afterlife, sarcasm was not one of them.
His eyes twitched.
Who the hell is this guy?
Zain tried to speak, but his throat still refused to obey.
"Oh, don't strain yourself. You won't be talking anytime soon, little friend," the voice chuckled.
Little friend?
"Does it look like a little kid?" Zain thought.
The flicker of irritation helped ground him. Who in their right mind calls a grown man 'little friend'?
However, in the eyes of the mysterious man, sixty years were nothing more than a speck of dust lying at the bottom of the river, waiting for the current to end its life.
"Well, well, you can call me Mr. Oberoy.
I'm one of the fragments of… let's just say, a bigshot who oversees the upper worlds."
A god. Or something close.
Zain clenched his fists...only to remember he had no fists. What remained of him was barely a flicker of a soul, mist-like and fragile.
"Alright, where are my children?" His voice, when it finally returned, was hoarse and brittle.
"Ah, don't look so miserable," Oberoy sighed. "Your children are safe."
Relief and suspicion warred within him.
"You better not be lying."
"What would I gain by lying to a dead man?" Oberoy mused. "Now, let's focus on why you're here."
"I should be dead," Zain muttered.
"And yet, here you are."
"Then end it."
Silence.
He met his glowing violet eyes, his soul burning with the one desire he had left.
"I don't want a next life."
Oberoy tilted his head. "Oh?"
How did he know? that he is going to give him another chance?
"You sure are an intelligent guy," he laughed.
Before he could say something, Zain interrupted him, "I want to disappear. Completely. I don't want reincarnation, I don't want another chance...I just want some peace."
"Erase me."
Oberoy sighed, almost disappointed.
"Ah, I see." He rubbed his chin. "You're clinging to your past. That's why you're suffering. Just let go, my friend. Forget about it. Forget everything, your pain, your struggles, your regrets. Let it all fade away, so you can embrace the next life properly."
Zain chest tightened.
"Forget?" he grasped.
"Yes. It'll be easier that way."
"How the hell am I supposed to forget?" Zain hissed.
"How do I forget my life? My parents, my friends, my love, my children? How do I forget the suffering, the pain?"
Oberoy hummed, his gaze unreadable. Then, with a small, knowing smile, he spoke:"Pain and suffering are inevitable, my friend. And that is what makes life worth living."
Zain breath caught.
"What?" he exclaimed.
"Do you know what happens to those who escape suffering completely?"
Oberoy asked, voice softer now.
They become empty. Hollow....
To be living is to endure, to struggle, to ache. The joy of a reunion, the warmth of love, the fire of ambition—all these things exist only because pain exists. If you erase your suffering, you erase yourself."
Zain fingers curled. "Then let me be erased."
Oberoy sighed again, shaking his head. "Ah, boy. So stubborn."
The next thing Zain knew, Mr. Oberoy's fist slammed into his chest.
Pain erupted through him—sharp, electric, and overwhelming. His very soul shook.
His body—his body—was pulled toward something.
The next moment, he was no longer a formless mist.
He had limbs.
A heartbeat.
A breath.
Zain gasped, the sensation of lungs filling with air almost too much to handle. His hands clutched his chest, feeling the solid weight of his ribs beneath them.
He was alive.
Oberoy loomed over him, watching with a bemused expression. "There. Now, no more talk of erasing yourself. You have work to do."
Zain gritted his teeth. "I never agreed—"
"Oh, but you will."
His voice was warm, persuasive, like honey laced with venom.
"You will, because deep down, you want to exist. You need to. You've fought too long, too hard, to simply let go now. And if you truly wanted oblivion, you wouldn't be standing here."
"Don't you want to undo all of your mistakes?" he asked.
He trembled, fists clenching.
Damn him.
Damn this world.
Back then, he just wanted to die each and every day. But he can't, he has to raise his
children.
But now he is free from his shackles that used to bind him.
Why can't the world leave me alone?
Why?
He just wanted to die.
"Why am I so weak?" Zain growled, his powerless fists clenched tightly.
Mr. Oberoy remained silent, unaffected by his pitiful state.
I, i... I just wanted to live a happy life. What did i ever do to deserve this?
He wanted to see his parents grow old, watch them play with their grandchildren...but they were killed!
He wanted to be loved, to build a home with his love...but he lost her.
He wanted to enjoy old age with his friend...but he was killed because of him.
What did i ever do to anyone?
"Why?" Tears started to fall down from Zain cheeks as he remembered his parents, his love, and his friend.
What did they do to deserve it?
After crying for so long, his eyes burned red as he struggled to suppress his emotions. Mr. Oberoy watched him, his expression shifting, his lips parting as if to speak...but he heard nothing.
What would i gain if i agreed to be reborn in another world? Zain asked, his eyes staring at the two purple glows.
"I can help you change your past and save your parents, your love, and your friends," he said, pausing for a moment before continuing. "But there is a huge price to pay for it."
His gaze held a mix of emotions as he asked, "Are you willing to pay... even if it means erasing your very existence?"
Zain stumbled at his words. His whole body started to shake violently.
He can save my parents?
He can save my love?
"He can save my friend?" Zain murmured.
Zain looked at him, his soul torn between desire and fear. It was the offer of a lifetime, an impossible choice made real.
And yet, he couldn't deny it.
There was hope.
And hope, after all, was the most dangerous thing of all.