Jeremiah Noah Arnold
They told us we were going to survive.
That help was coming.
That if we just held the line a little longer, everything would be okay.
They lied.
The last time I held her, there was blood on her lips and glass in her skin. The ground was trembling, the sky torn open by flame and ash, but all I saw was her. Her eyes were wide and afraid, her hands clawing at my jacket, desperate to live, desperate for me to save her.
But I couldn't.
"Stay with me, please," I begged, pressing my hands to her stomach. The wound was too deep. Too much blood. Too little time. "Don't go. Just hold on... someone will come. They have to come..."
"Noah…" Her voice was soft, ragged. "You… you always say that."
Because I wanted to believe it.
Because the truth was unbearable. She was dying.
"I love you," I whispered, my forehead pressed to hers.
"I know." Her fingers brushed my cheek. Weak. Cold. "You… you did your best…"
But my best wasn't enough.
It never was.
Her breath hitched and suddenly stopped.
And just like that, she was gone.
She didn't cry out. She didn't scream. She just… left.
Like a candle snuffed out by the wind.
I stayed there, holding her, rocking back and forth like a madman. I didn't speak. I didn't scream. I just let the silence bury me.
Around us, the city burned. Buildings collapsed. Sirens wailed and distant voices shouted orders I couldn't hear anymore. The world was ending, and all I could do was kneel in the wreckage of it, mourning one small, precious life.
The love of my life.
Gone.
Because I wasn't strong enough.
Because I was too slow.
Because I believed them when they said we'd make it.
A hot, blinding pain stabbed through my chest. I gasped, eyes wide. Blood filled my throat. Something sharp had pierced me... metal, maybe. Shrapnel from the collapse.
Good.
I didn't move. Didn't try to stop the bleeding. What was the point?
I collapsed forward over her body, vision dimming, lungs struggling for air. The pain was strangely distant now, fading behind the weight of my sorrow.
And just before everything went black, I whispered the only words that still mattered:
"I'm sorry."
In Between...Somewhere Else
I thought death would be the end.
But I was wrong.
There was no light. No tunnel. No judgment.
Just a void. Heavy and vast.
But I wasn't alone.
Something was watching.
Not with eyes. With presence. With knowing.
I felt it wrap around me like fog, like memory, like time itself folding in on me. I wasn't a man anymore. I wasn't a body. I was just… thought. Regret. Anger. Grief.
And it listened.
Not to my words, but to my soul.
You couldn't save her.
The thought echoed not cruelly, but truthfully.
You want to protect.
Yes. More than anything.
You would do it all again, wouldn't you?
I hesitated. I wasn't sure.
But if I could see her smile again… even in another life…
I said yes.
And the void shifted.
Something cracked open, like a shell breaking around me. Light poured in violent, pure, burning. I felt myself unravel and reform. My thoughts collapsed into something smaller, tighter, warmer.
And then...
Suddenly.
I screamed.
Air rushed into my lungs, new, raw, unfamiliar. My mouth opened, but the sound was foreign, high-pitched, tiny.
Hands lifted me.
Voices, strange but warm spoke in a language I didn't recognize.
"It's a boy!" someone exclaimed. "A strong one, too!"
I blinked. The world around me was blurry, too bright. Everything felt too big.
A woman's face hovered over mine. She had long hair the color of honey and eyes full of exhausted joy. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"My little Noah," she whispered.
That name.
Noah.
She named me that? Or… was it always meant to be mine?
A man appeared beside her tall, with dark hair and eyes full of wonder and fear. He took me in his arms like I was made of gold.
"I swear," he said, his voice trembling, "I'll keep him safe. Always."
Their voices faded as fatigue wrapped around my newborn body. I tried to hold onto my thoughts, my memories, my grief, but they were slipping like sand through fingers too small to close.
Still… one thing remained:
Her face.
And the promise I made as I died.
Never again.
If I had to crawl through this new life, grow from nothing, learn magic or wield power beyond belief,
I would.
Because this time, I would be strong enough.
Strong enough to protect what mattered.
No more helplessness. No more apologies. No more watching someone I loved die while I did nothing.
This time, I would be different.
I closed my eyes, and the warmth of my new mother's arms cradled me into sleep.
And somewhere deep within me, beneath the surface of this fragile newborn shell, something ancient stirred.
A spark.
A memory.
A vow.
End of Chapter.