POV: Matías Castleboard
What meaning did my death ever have?
One of the few questions that crossed my mind as I drifted into unconsciousness was the value behind each of my actions. I searched for a clear answer, but all I found was a cruelly repeating phrase: it was all for nothing.
Despite knowing what it feels like to believe your entire life was worthless—without a happy ending—the pain wasn't mine anymore. I didn't feel it. But there was no peace either. Only thoughts... thoughts clinging to my failures.
I see nothing, I whispered inside my mind. Where am I? Ah… right. I died.
At that moment, all I wanted was for silence to take over. I just wanted to rest… after so long begging for a peace that had always been a lie.
Some say that when you die, you see a light.
I see nothing.
It's as if my consciousness were floating alone in a never-ending abyss. No body. No form. If this could even be called "consciousness"...
The only thing I could do was think. And that's exactly what I did: think about how everything came to this.
First, the calm shattered. A fragile truth that everyone ignored finally collapsed, and no one was ready for what came next. They knew it was the end when the stars were replaced by missiles tearing pieces from the sky.
The sound of trumpets signaled war. A bitter melody that marked a pain just beginning for a generation raised beside death.
If Oppenheimer was right about anything, it was when he said the Fourth World War would be fought with sticks and stones… because we would have destroyed the future, and returned to the past.
From that moment on, everything spiraled. Because that's what humans do—we're so intelligent… yet so painfully naïve.
The Prophet... that bastard. He didn't have a transmitter to make him immortal, nor one capable of bending reality. Truth is, he didn't have any transmitter at all. He just manipulated us.
Manipulate.
That word weighs heavy. Because I… I wasn't any better than him. I did the same. I did it out of convenience. To protect those I loved, like I promised my father I would.
How many lives did I have to take before I realized the damage I was causing?
Why…? Why do humans only learn through pain?
I still remember that family. They begged me for mercy.
The children's eyes shimmered with tears. The mother looked at me with resignation… and yet, never with hatred.
I... was just following orders.
Damn it.
I don't even know when it happened. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice the tears streaming down my face.
That's when I saw them—my own tears. And for the first time since my death… I saw my body again. A faint glow began to form around me—soft, ethereal—like it was trying to reveal a truth I wasn't ready to accept.
Huh… there really is a light at the end of the tunnel, I murmured, feeling my lips move, as if I were getting used to speaking again.
My hands were the first to appear. No longer stained with blood, but clean… as if the weight of all the souls I carried had vanished. As if, in this place, I had been forgiven.
Then came my legs—strong, steady, ready to keep walking.
And then I knew. I was returning. Not to life... but to something.Something beyond my understanding. All I knew was that I wanted to be free.
As I became aware of my surroundings, my mind filled with questions. Everything was white. So peaceful.
Butterflies danced through the air. A radiant sun shone above, yet it didn't burn. A tranquility wrapped around me like a warm blanket—reminding me of childhood.
No noise. No war. Just… silence.
Is this Heaven? Or Limbo? I asked the void, hoping for an answer I knew might never come. Where… am I supposed to be?
"This isn't Heaven, Matías.Nor Limbo. And honestly… I doubt you deserve either."
A voice rose behind me—imposing, deep, laced with a power that made me spin around and instinctively fall into a guarded stance. Even though… I was already dead.
What I saw was a humanoid figure. He looked like an ancient warrior. But the most unsettling part was that his body, his clothes—even his aura—were entirely white.
Not the white of light.
The white of emptiness. Of silence.
On the contrary… I felt peace.
A sensation so familiar, so intense, that my arms lowered on their own—as if my body recognized someone... someone who had always been there. Someone who, for some inexplicable reason, was inviting me to embrace him.
My soul was broken. My voice, barely a whisper:
"Who… are you?"
The figure studied me for several seconds, his gaze so deep it felt like it pierced through the very fabric of my life. Then he spoke, with a voice serene—yet filled with overwhelming authority.
"My name is Kraidir. Welcome to the Void—the beginning and the end of all creation."
The Void.
My mind twisted, trying to make sense of it. This doesn't make any sense, I thought. Maybe it was because I was already dead… and in my ignorance, I believed losing would feel different. But this… this didn't resemble anything we were ever taught.
If my guess was correct, I was standing before something… beyond human.
A deity? One unlike the others?
And if he was…What did he want from me?
I cleared my throat. Spoke with caution, choosing every word like it might cost me eternity.
"Judging by your appearance… and your words," I said slowly, I'd assume you're not human. And if our old beliefs hold any truth… I'd dare say you're a deity."
He smiled.
But it wasn't a divine, unreachable smile. It was human. Warm. Almost paternal. More human than many I had seen in life.
"In part, you're right," he replied calmly. "I am what mortals would call a deity. And I know you have many questions—about where you are, why you're here, and what comes next."
"As I told you before… you are in the Void," he continued, his voice omniscient as he slowly approached. "Think of it as a transition… toward something greater."
I didn't understand why… but I began to tremble.
It wasn't fear. It wasn't cold.
It was something deeper. A visceral reaction I couldn't explain. I tried to speak—to say something—anything… but the words drowned in my throat.
When he stood right in front of me, his expression changed.
No longer the look of an impassive god.
It was… compassion. A gaze that seemed to understand all the pain I carried. As if he could see the torment caused by a life I never asked for.
"Matías… I am here for one reason only. And that reason… is you."
All those years of suffering.All your silent screams begging for it to stop…They've come to an end. Or so I believed…Until I heard that cursed name:
Dextrina.
A lightning bolt of rage surged through my body. My one remaining eye tensed with fury, and before I realized it, my hand was already reaching for his throat.
"You know Dextrina?! Answer me!" I roared, gripping him with fury. But no matter how much force I used… he showed no pain, no resistance.
Only a sigh.
His calm unnerved me more than any threat could have. Then, with a simple gesture, he brushed my hand aside—as if I were made of air.
"Yes. I know her," he said gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. "She was the one who sent me here. And with that… your presence in this place is explained."
He snapped his fingers.
A chair appeared out of thin air—ancient in design, elegant in detail. He motioned for me to sit.
It was clear… what came next would be a long story.
Dextrina.
The goddess who gave me the transmitter.
The goddess of time and history. The one who promised that, with her power, I could protect everyone. But in the end… she only brought more pain.
I took a deep breath. I wanted to listen. I wanted to understand. So I let myself fall into the chair, weary and worn.
"Speak," I muttered, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. "I won't interrupt you."
Kraidir nodded solemnly.
"As I told you… Dextrina sent me, Matías," he said with gravity. "Your future is uncertain. Not even the gods fully understand what you are."
I looked up, frowning before asking,
"What do you mean they don't know what I am?"
Kraidir met my gaze directly.
"Because you did something no one was ever meant to do," he continued, eyes unwavering. "You altered your world's destiny. You achieved peace… when it was never written."
"So what you're saying is…"."That my actions upset the gods? Or is it just that… they didn't find it entertaining enough?" I clenched my fists, trembling with rage.
I knew what gods were really like.
False saviors.
Kraidir nodded again, watching me like he was waiting for me to explode.
"If that's how you want to see it… then yes," he replied, pushing both my patience and my sanity to the edge.
And yes. I did explode.
I laughed.
But it wasn't a normal laugh.
It was hollow. Broken. The echo of a man who had lost everything. I laughed like a madman—like someone who had nothing left to lose.
Then I kicked the chair violently. I watched it vanish, as if it had never been there at all. As if it had only ever been an illusion.
"So the gods think humanity is just a game, huh?!" I shouted, losing control. "Well damn it… now they'll see what it really means to play!"
Without thinking, my eye began to bleed, and Calur—my transmitter—activated purely on instinct.
Kraidir didn't move. Not a single muscle.
"It would be wise to deactivate your relic, Matías," he said calmly."It won't work here. Especially not against me. In this place… you have no power."
I gritted my teeth. The rage burned through me. But I knew…
There was nothing I could do.
Nothing but talk. Scream. Curse.
"And what are the gods going to do? Kill me again?" I yelled, eyes burning with fire. "As if I care anymore! If you know Dextrina… then you already know this:
I have nothing left!"
I pointed at him, as if he were to blame for everything.
But deep down… I knew he wasn't.
I had no tears left.
No strength.
Only emptiness.
Kraidir looked at me with a sadness that wasn't pity. It was the gaze of someone who truly saw me. Who saw the broken soul beneath all the anger.
My legs gave out. I collapsed to the ground, the impact echoing against the ethereal matter surrounding that place.
Flat on my back. Lost in a space that wasn't space. With no one. No dreams. No direction.
"The gods… have made a decision about you," he said softly.
I wanted to ignore him. To act like a child throwing a tantrum But something deep inside told me… What he was about to say mattered.
"And what… what did they decide?" I asked, drained.
Kraidir knelt beside me. One knee to the ground. He extended a hand toward me, never breaking eye contact.
"You will be reborn, Matías," he said— and his words lit a spark in the deepest part of my soul.
I snapped my eyes open, stunned.
"Wait… what did you just say?" I asked, immediately sitting up. "A second chance?"
He nodded.
But this time… I couldn't read his face.
He no longer looked the same. It was as if a mask had settled over his expression.
All I had ever done in my past life was fight. Protect those I loved. Chase that elusive freedom every human longs for…
And now, fate was offering me this:
A new chance. Maybe… a better life.
I looked up to find Kraidir— but he was gone. Vanished… as if he had never been there at all.
Once again… I was alone.
My mind tried to convince me that it had all been a hallucination. It wanted to dress the image of Kraidir as a projection, a dream— a creation of a broken soul still clinging to something.
But deep down… in the deepest part of my heart— I knew the truth.
I knew it had all been real. And his words… were real too.
Without realizing it, exhaustion took hold of me. A weakness returned—not physical, but deep. Ancient. A weariness that rose from the core of my soul and spread across my body like an inescapable blanket.
My eyes closed slowly.
But this time… I wasn't thinking about the end. I was thinking about a beginning. It was strange—but after so long, I felt something I thought I had lost:
Hope.
Everything faded into darkness.
And my consciousness collapsed. I fell asleep… drifting through a space beyond existence itself. As if I had never existed at all.