In a dimly lit room, the clicking of buttons echoed softly as flashes from the television screen lit up the worn-out walls. Two boys, barely past their teens, sat cross-legged on the floor with game controllers in their hands.
They were fully immersed in battle.
"Yeah, come on—back me up!" shouted the older one, a tall boy with jet-black hair and deep black eyes. He wore a black t-shirt tucked loosely into dark jeans.
A relaxed grin spread across his face as he quickly tapped his fingers.
"I'm trying, I'm trying," the younger one muttered. He looked a bit like his brother, carrying the same dark hair and similar eyes, though he appeared to be a bit shorter and leaner with softer features.
Then, suddenly...
[GAME OVER]
"Aww, man… we almost fucked that boss." Miles sighed, letting his head fall back against the cold floor as he gazed at the ceiling.
Sam smiled faintly. "Language, brother. And yeah, we're close. A couple more tries and we'll finish this volume."
"They haven't even announced the next part yet. You think something happened?"
Sam shook his head.
"I doubt it. Maybe they're just making sure it ends perfectly."
"Hm," Miles nodded. "Yeah… that'd be nice."
He sat up suddenly, checking the time.
"Shit. It's already five. We should get to the supermarket before it gets dark."
The two of them quickly cleaned up their modest apartment, grabbed their jackets, and left for the store.
---------
By the time they were walking home, the sky had taken on a soft hue of fading blue, the sun hiding behind dusky clouds.
The bags in their hands swayed gently with each step as they walked in silence until..
"Hey, Miles," Sam said suddenly as his eyes seemed to be scanning the quiet street ahead.
"Do you ever think… maybe Mom and Dad are watching us from up there? You know, like in heaven…Or maybe they've been reborn already."
Miles looked at his brother with a half-smile.
"I don't know if I believe in that kind of stuff. But wherever they are, I just hope they're doing okay."
Their parents had died in a tragic car accident three years ago, when Miles was fifteen and Sam just fourteen. Everything had fallen apart after that. Their relatives had swooped in, taken control of their property, and left the boys in an orphanage like unwanted baggage.
Since then, Miles had taken on the role of protector. Now in university, he worked part-time to support himself and Sam, who was in his final year of high school. Their lives were far from perfect but they had each other. And that was enough.
As they turned the corner, laughter and crude shouting caught their attention.
A group of rough-looking men was surrounding a woman at the alley's edge.
Miles instinctively stopped.
His eyes narrowed.
"Miles… let's call the police," Sam whispered. "It's too dangerous."
But Miles didn't wait.
"We don't have time. I'll distract them. You stay back!"
"Miles—No—Don't go!"
But he was already gone.
Miles ran toward the scene and clenched his fists.
"Hey! That's enough!"
The men turned as their laughter died in their throats.
"Oh? A hero, huh?" one of them scoffed. He looked to be in his twenties with a bulky build.
"Kid, walk away. It's none of your business."
"You made it my business the moment she screamed," Miles said. "Back off. Now."
The girl ducked behind him as the group advanced.
There were four of them.
Seemingly unarmed, but big enough to easily overwhelm Miles.
Still, Miles didn't hesitate.
He swung first, knocking the leader back.
Another came at him from the side, but before he could land a hit, Miles ducked and elbowed him hard in the ribs, then spun and kicked the third in the chest.
Sam stood frozen across the street, watching the fight unfold.
He trembled at the scene.
His instincts screamed at him to run, to do something but before he could act, he saw it.
A fifth man
He hadn't been part of the group.
He just… appeared.
Wearing a dirty coat, twitching with every breath, eyes glassy and wide like something feral.
In his hand was a rusted kitchen knife.
"Miles!" Sam shouted.
But it was too late.
The man lunged.
Miles didn't see it coming.
He turned just in time to see Sam leap forward while pushing him away.
The knife sank deep into Sam's side as blood spurted out from it.
A quiet gasp escaped Sam's lips, and he began to tremble with pain.
Blood sprayed across Miles' arm.
"Sam—!"
He caught his brother as he fell, cradling him in his arms.
The world around them blurred.
Shouts, footsteps...all faded to silence.
Sam's eyes looked up at him which were already losing focus.
"Miles… are you… Okay?"
"No—don't talk. Just—just stay with me."
"I knew… I'd never let them hurt you…"
"Stop. We'll get you help, alright? Just hold on."
"I'm glad… you're safe…"
His voice broke.
"Sam—no… please… not like this. Please!"
Miles didn't see the second attacker.
Another strike came from behind.
Something blunt.
Like a pipe.
It cracked across his skull.
And immediately, his vision swam.
The last thing he saw was Sam's lifeless face that was still smiling.
Then—
Darkness.
--------
Miles felt weightless.
Detached.
He didn't feel the pain from the blow.
There were no aching ribs or bleeding head. Just a strange stillness, like being submerged underwater.
And then, light.
It was faint at first then apperaed to glowing at the distance.
His vision slowly returned, but the world wasn't the same.
He stood in a place unlike anything he'd ever seen.
A giant obsidian tree towered in front of him, its branches stretching in all directions like a dome of black veins against a blood-red sky.
The roots snaked through the land, some reaching toward him as if they were alive.
But before they could touch him, the vision cracked... almost like glitched as if in a broken game.
Miles tried to move, but his limbs felt foreign.
Then he realised.
He wasn't in his body.
Yet he could feel.
He tried to speak, but no sound came.
The roots were almost at his feet.
Then suddenly, the vision shifted.
The next moment, he stood again before the tree, but this time it was withered and looked like dying. Its once-gleaming black leaves fell like ash, and its roots shriveled as if drained of life.
Before he could process it, the vision shifted again.
Now he found himself kneeling on a battlefield. The air was heavy with dust and ash, that made difficult for him to breath.
His chest felt heavy for some reason so he looked down and found a sword pierced straight through his heart.
He felt the blood leaking from his lips which felt tasteless...no, almost bitter.
However, despite having such a wound...there was no pain.
He felt as if the pain didn't exist in this body.
Confusion stuck to his mind.
And there was the fact that this body wasn't his.
But at the same time, it felt like it was.
It wasn't his.
Yet somehow... it was.
The paradox confused him even more.
What the hell was happening?
Then at that moment, he heard someone's footsteps.
Step… step…Step!
A tall man emerged from the fog.
His features were refined, inhumanly perfect with jet-black hair and pitch-black eyes.
But what stood out for Miles wasn't his face but...his expression.
It wasn't anger.
It wasn't sadness.
It was...
Disappointment.
Betrayal.
Grief.
Like all at once.
And most of all, why was he looking at him like that?
He stopped in front of Miles—no, in front of whoever this body belonged to and said in a cold voice.
"Don't you have anything to say?" he asked while staring down at him.
Miles was confused by the question.
Then the black haired guy asked again.
"Don't you have anything to say? Any excuse? Any damn reason?!"
Miles tried to speak but no words came out.
The man's voice cracked. "Say something, for God's sake! Why did you do it?! Why?!"
Miles tried to open his mouth again, but it was like something invisible forced it shut.
Then as if his patience had run out, the man pulled out a gleaming silver sword from his sheath.
"I'll give you one last chance," he said.
Stil nothing.
Miles couldn't even move his lips.
It was like he was just a observer inside this body.
"Then so be it."
The black haired man raised his sword just in front of Miles.
"You'll vanish, just like the rest."
Miles looked up.
The man's blade glinted.
And in the polished steel… he saw his reflection.
Eyes that weren't his stared back.
He looked up one last time while feeling desperate to say anything
He wanted to explain, to scream but again no words came out.
Anyways, it was too late for him.
He felt the cold steel touch his neck—
And his vision went black once more.