Zain was ready. The fire of rage burned fiercely inside him, fueling his desire to prove himself and get revenge on the world that had played with his life. They not only hurt him but also his family and friends. Now, with newfound strength, he was determined to show the world that he was no longer a victim. He would rise, and nothing would stand in his way.
After discovering that he could become as strong as his master, a man who had the power to control life and death—someone who could make Mr. Oberoy tremble in fear—Zain was filled with courage. He felt as though he could accomplish anything.
The madness was rising within him, a hunger to grow stronger, to become great, to claim the power that had always eluded him.
For so long, Zain had lived as a loser, telling himself that he was weak and powerless. Beneath it all, he still called himself a loser, but that would change. He would prove to the world—and to himself—that he was no coward, no weakling.
His eyes were cold and sharp, glowing with the aura of a warrior ready to fight to the death.
Unbeknownst to Zain, he had changed. Something within him had shifted since he awakened after thousands of years. He couldn't quite grasp what it was, but he could feel it, and there was no fear left in his eyes. No regrets about the past. There was only the will to grow stronger, a thirst for power, and a burning curiosity to uncover the truths of the world.
In truth, he had become something else entirely. He was no longer the man who once cowered in the face of danger. He was a madman now, though he wasn't fully aware of it.
There were two types of madmen in the world: those who had lost everything and had nothing left to live for, and those who had found something to live for.
Zain was of the latter—a madman who had found his purpose, and that purpose was to grow stronger, to fight the world that had once defeated him.
Oberoy, standing by his side, watched Zain with conflicted feelings. He wasn't sure whether to feel happy for Zain, who had found a reason to live, or sad because he was dangerously close to losing himself to madness.
He remembered his lord's words: "A man cannot become great without the touch of madness."
Perhaps the lord was right, Oberoy thought, sighing. No one knew what was going on inside Zain's head—perhaps not even Zain himself.
"I'm afraid he might do something he'll regret later," Oberoy murmured under his breath. "May the lord help you."
Zain stood there, laughing like a crazy man, surrounded by a thick purple aura. The dark crystal on his forehead pulsed with power, giving off an ominous glow. Oberoy knew it was time for Zain to move on.
"It's time for you to go," Oberoy said, waving his right hand in the air. The space around them tore, and a mysterious, disc-like object appeared in his hands. It spun rapidly, emitting a mysterious light. Zain could only stare at it, unable to recognize the strange energy emanating from the object. He had never seen anything like it before.
"What's this? And why can't I recognize the light around it?" Zain asked, confusion flickering in his eyes.
"This is a special artifact," Oberoy explained. "It can help people reincarnate. The light you see—it's not from the world you're from."
Zain squinted at the disc, its light growing brighter and more intense. The object was the size of a palm, and its rapid spin made it difficult to focus on. As Zain stared at it, his spirit eyes began to burn, struggling to withstand the radiant energy.
"Now, be ready," Oberoy said, beginning to chant in a language Zain had never heard. The light from the disc enveloped Zain's soul, drawing it in with a force Zain couldn't resist.
His surroundings faded as he felt a strange sensation of weightlessness. A dizziness overcame him, and soon he found himself in a completely different place.
Zain opened his eyes to find himself in a stark white room. It was the size of an ordinary room, no more than a few meters wide. His head was spinning, disoriented from the abrupt shift. He looked up, hearing Oberoy's voice coming from above.
"Zain, are you okay? Can you hear me?" Oberoy called out with urgency.
"I'm fine," Zain answered, his voice shaky. "I'm inside a white room. Where am I, Mr. Oberoy?"
"You're inside the disc, Zain," Oberoy replied, his voice steady but tinged with concern. "I'm going to throw this disc into a world where you'll find the dead body of the boy you're going to reincarnate into. Wait until then."
There was a long silence.
"This may be the last time we speak," Oberoy continued, his tone serious. "So please, listen carefully to what I'm about to say. You're a good and kind person, Zain. Don't try to change yourself forcefully.
Don't do something you'll regret in the future."
Zain remained silent, his emotions rising at the thought of parting with Oberoy. He had never expected to form such a bond with the man, yet here they were—standing on the brink of a journey that would change everything.
"Remember, Zain," Oberoy's voice softened. "Sometimes, who you become while chasing your goal is better than actually hitting that goal."
Zain swallowed hard, the weight of Oberoy's words sinking into his heart.
"And one last thing," Oberoy added, his voice steady but filled with care, "I've left some important information in the crystal. You'll receive it once you meet the criteria.
I hope that when we meet again, it will be as equals—brothers who can have a friendly duel, not as benefactor and beneficiary."
Zain smiled slightly, a wry but determined smile. "I will defeat you. Just wait for me on the other side."
Oberoy chuckled softly. "Who said you can defeat me?" They both laughed, their playful rivalry bringing a brief moment of lightness in the midst of their heavy farewell.
The laughter faded, and they grew quiet. They had become more than just benefactor and beneficiary in this short time—they had become close friends, and now they were saying goodbye.
Zain's throat tightened as he tried to hold back his emotions. "So, this is goodbye, huh?" he asked, his voice soft. It was strange to feel this much for someone he had only known for a short time. But in those brief moments, they had forged a bond stronger than most friendships that lasted a lifetime.
"Thank you for everything," Zain said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll always remember you. Even if we don't meet again, you were my benefactor, my friend."
Oberoy nodded, his eyes misty. This time, there was no denying the moisture in his eyes. "Happy journey, my friend," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
With a final glance, Oberoy threw the mysterious disc with full force. The fabric of reality tore open as the disc shot forward, its speed exceeding human perception. It tore through the air, sending Zain into a straight path that would lead him to his reincarnation.
Zain was no longer a coward, no longer a weak man—he was a devourer, ready to face the truth and his destiny.
The path ahead was uncertain, but Zain was ready to embrace it. His journey had just begun.