The world was on fire.
It roared and screamed, consuming everything in its path. The wooden beams above groaned as flames licked them hungrily, casting shadows that danced like wraiths across the crumbling walls. The air was thick with smoke and ash, choking out all sound except for the crackling inferno.
Through the chaos, fragmented memories surged forward, each one sharper than the last.
A child stood amidst the flames, small and fragile. His face was a blank slate— expressionless, as though the chaos around him didn't exist. His eyes were obscured, hidden in shadow, yet his presence carried a haunting stillness that spoke louder than any scream could.
The scene shifted, faster now, like an unraveling dream.
His hand strained as they stretched to reach for the charred figures on the ground before him as though his life depended on it.
"Come on... Move"
Buried beneath the weight of charred rubble, his body lay trapped, pinned against the scorched earth, holding him in place like iron shackles. Smoke curled around him, the acrid scent of burnt wood and flesh filling his lungs with every ragged breath. Just beyond his reach, mere inches away, lay his goal—so close he could almost feel it, yet impossibly far.
His fingers stretched desperately, trembling with effort, but the debris refused to yield. The searing heat gnawed at his skin, and the world blurred at the edges, darkness creeping in.
The fire grew louder, angrier, drowning out everything else.
The figures in question didn't or rather they couldn't. It's was as though they were lifeless. Their silhouettes blurred as the heat and smoke consumed the room.
Then, silence filled the space, while everything faded as if they were only but a memory.
The memories swirled, fragmented and incomplete. Snippets of laughter. The faint warmth of a smile. A voice—soft, kind, and distant. These echoes skittered by like ghosts, vanishing before they could be grasped.
Then scene flickered in from the void, sharper than the rest.
A small graveyard, its air heavy with grief. The rain fell in a slow, steady rhythm, soaking the earth and muffling the murmurs of the gathered crowd. Figures in black stood around two simple, gravestones.Their faces indistinct and blurred by the haze of the memory.
At the core of the crowd, a child stood in the rain. The same child as before. His features were still undefined, his eyes still obscured, his expression void of any emotion. He stood there, unmoving and cold—not from the rain, but from something deeper.
'Loss...'
The world around him faded into a dull hum. The weight of failure pressed down on him like the cold rain.
A voice cut through the void, quiet and detached.
"Mom, Dad..." he began. "Sorry I couldn't save you guys"
It wasn't accusing. It wasn't kind. It was a simple, unavoidable truth.
The child flinched, as he stared. His small hands clenched tightly. But he didn't cry. Afterall, there were no tears left to shed.
"I was weak," he whispered. "Powerless."
The voice carried a hint of regret as it then returned back to the void while the scene flickered into darkness, one that seemed to go on forever.
Suddenly, the darkness gave way to scattered fragments of a different memory.
It was the same boy, he was now all grown up, though only a teenager. He took part in rather peculiar jobs—mopping floors, stacking shelves. Though everything from his surroundings to his appearance had changed, one thing about him always stayed the same.
That same aura lingered around him, haunting and cold. A quiet stillness, burdened by a past he could never leave behind.
"Thank you, come again," the youth muttered, his voice flat and mechanical.
A scene sharpened, standing out from the others—a grocery shop. He wasn't behind the counter but stocking shelves, head down, lost in routine.
But this time was different
A man stormed into the shop, shouting threats, brandishing a gun. Panic spread like wildfire. But a child's cry cut through the noise as the robber grabbed the boy, using him as a shield.
The youth froze.
The scene mirrored his nightmares, the fire flickering in his mind. His fingers trembled as his breathing quickened. Memories overlapped with reality.
Breathe...
"I've got this," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.
He dashed forward, his body moving before his mind could catch up. The robber's gun turned, but the youth ducked under its line of sight. His shoulder rammed into the man, sending them both crashing to the ground.
The girl was free.
The momentum carried them into a shelf, cans and boxes clattering around them. For a moment, there was silence, the youth's adrenaline surging as he struggled to pin the man down.
But his adrenaline was shortlived as a second gunshot rocked the entire shop.
The deafening crack echoed through the shop. The youth froze, his body stiffening as a searing pain bloomed in his chest. He slumped forward, his weight crushing the man beneath him.
A gasp escaped his lips as he collapsed
His vision blurred, colors bleeding together as the world tilted. He strained his neck, desperate to see the child. The girl was safe, for now at least, cowering behind a counter.
The robber shoved the youth's limp body off and rose, his gun still in hand.
"No..." the youth whimpered, his voice barely above a breath. His arm twitched and reached out, but his strength failed him.
"Not again... I can't-"
BANG!!!
A third gunshot roared out, followed by a deafening silence.
For a moment, everyone was in panic, but then the robber crumpled to the ground, a pool of red spreading beneath him. In the distance, police sirens wailed. The shot had come from an officer standing at the door
The youth exhaled shakily, his vision fading.
"The police... Thank goodness... It's alright now. She's safe..." He muttered, the warmth of his blood seeped into the floor as his consciousness ebbed away.
•••
His body felt weightless, his senses slipping into the void. Memories replayed in rapid succession—his failures, his regrets, his helplessness.
'So... this is it, he thought, his voice echoing in the darkness. Even now, I wasn't able to save everyone on my own huh.'
Anger bubbled within him. He cursed his weakness, his reliance on others to fix what he could not.
'At least, I managed to save one' he thought
Moments later, he felt a faint tingling spread through his body, stirring him from the void.
He tried to open his eyes. Light pierced through, blinding and harsh, forcing them shut again.
'I feel... weird.'
Warmth surrounded him, soft and comforting. The air was clean, fresh, and unfamiliar.
'This isn't right...'
He tried to move, but his body felt small and fragile. His limbs barely responded. When he attempted to speak, his voice came out as a weak, incoherent noise.
'Am I... A child?'
Panic settled in as he finally opened his eyes. 'Wait did I... reincarnate?'
A soothing voice broke through his confusion, gentle and warm.
"My son," it cooed, filled with affection. "You're finally awake."
The youth—or rather, the infant—blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light. He stared up at the woman holding him.
'Wow~,' he exclamed inwardly.
She was radiant, with long silver hair cascading down her back and ruby irises that gleamed with a motherly warmth. Her features were ethereal, her beauty almost divine.
Smiling, she eased the tension in his fragile body.
"Now aren't you a beautiful one?" she said, brushing a finger lightly against his cheek.
The child stared back at her, emotions swirling in his newfound heart.
'If this is a second chance... he thought, his tiny fist clenching with determination.
'This time, I'll do it right. I'll protect everyone... no matter what.'
The door creaked open, drawing their attention as three figures entered, their presence commanding the room, but one stood out among them—a towering man whose gaze etched into the child's very being.
'And this is?'