He sank back into that dream again—a dream not born of illusion,but a scar carved deeper into his soul than the Mariana Trench itself.
This time… the dream didn't lead him to peace.It dragged him to the place he feared most—and hated most.
Thailand / October 13th, 2XXXEmerald Triangle Battlefield – Border of Thailand / Laos / CambodiaFrontline, Hill 500
The rain fell like the sky itself was mourning,weeping for the lives about to be erased.Cold air pressed down on the soldiers' bodies until their muscles shivered,moisture seeping through bloodstained vests, mud, and the clinging remains of fallen comrades.The roar of heavy machine guns, the shriek of RPGs,the ripping whistle of bullets carving through flesh,the deafening blasts that tore breaths from lungs—all of it merged into one cacophony, as if the world itself was ending.
??? : "I repeat—the southern camp has been overrun! I repeat—we've lost the southern line!!"
The voice that broke through the radio was ragged, almost sobbing,like the death cry of a man already halfway gone.
Around them, burnt-out husks of tanks still smoldered,corpses strewn like discarded waste no one had time to collect.
Him—Ryōjin—sat hunched inside a crude wooden shack.Right hand gripping his rifle.Left hand checking grenades and magazines with mechanical detachment.
"…Again, huh? These memories never let me wake in peace… not even for a single night."
He whispered to himself,his own voice nearly swallowed by the next barrage of shells.
At HQ, orders barked through the chaos—a counterattack plan no different from herding men to the slaughter.They had no choice. The enemy's numbers seemed endless,whole villages pressed into service, even children not yet fifteen forced to carry rifles.
By midnight, the rain still fell—colder now.Hundreds of soldiers stood in ragged lines, awaiting orders to advance.Some prayed.Some clutched letters from their children.Some stood silent, inhaling slowly, exhaling slower—waiting for death.
A red flare streaked into the sky.The signal.The gates of hell swung wide.
Tanks rumbled forward, grinding earth like chained demons.Our side's guns erupted, spitting steel rain toward the hill.But the enemy's reply was merciless.RPGs streaked down, turning armor into fireballs that lit the night.
He ran, crawling low through the mud.Breath ragged every time a comrade beside him was hit—some in the head, some in the gut—their screams piercing the storm, clinging to life with voices only the dying could make.
He had to shove a friend's corpse off himself,the blood splattering across his face, blinding him in crimson.
"THEY'RE ON THE RIDGE!! FIRE UP—FI—!!"
The order was cut off as the officer's skull exploded.
Ryōjin didn't hesitate.He fired back instantly,the enemy's head bursting like a ripe melon, brains spattering across his helmet.He let it stay there.Blood was camouflage in this reality.
When he saw another comrade about to be stabbed in the throat at close range,he didn't think.He just pulled the trigger.One shot.The attacker's head burst apart.His friend survived—only to collapse into hysterical sobbing.
A blast detonated beside him,ears ringing, blood pouring from both canals.But there was no time.No time to rest.No time to feel.
He had to keep moving.He had to keep killing.
.
.
…And then the world went dark.
Everything dissolved into blackness.He jolted awake in an empty room—so empty there wasn't even the sound of his own breath.
He was sitting in a future without war… yet filled with nothing but ruins.
Before he was ever reborn, the world had already endured its final war.
World War III—lasting 1 year and 11 months.Four nuclear warheads struck Thailand.Millions died in a single day.China collapsed when the U.S. launched Project Thor, crushing its major cities from orbit.Three-quarters of China's population perished.
The world burned.The polar ice melted.Pandemics followed.People began killing one another over a single handful of rice.Mothers killed their children for food.Friends betrayed friends for a bottle of water.
Reijinn survived only because his comrade shoved him out of a collapsing building moments before the blast hit.That comrade lost both legs in an instant.
"Run… just run… don't look back…"
He lived.But only to become a man in a world where normal no longer existed.He had once been a hero, but no one remembered.He had killed hundreds of enemies, yet the medals he was given—were nothing but worthless scraps of metal.
Every night he still dreamt of explosions.Still saw the face of a friend with blood pouring from his eyes.Still smelled burnt flesh that lingered in his nose—so real it followed him into waking.
"We were all… nothing but pawns of the powerful…""And when our use was over… we were just scrap no one bothered to pick up."
He hadn't cried since that day.Because there were no tears left to shed.
And that was the only reason he swore—
"If I'm ever reborn… I will never again be someone's tool.I will be my own self—even if I must become a demon."
Seven months laterLife in the Special Control Zone, Trang Province.
The country was under martial law. The economy had collapsed.More than half the population starved to death from deliberately cut rations meant to reduce numbers.
Reijinn, decorated with a medal of valor, was sent home as a so-called "survivor."
"Someone like you doesn't deserve to live."
The voice came from the mother of his comrade.The comrade he had shot on the battlefield—to free him from his agony.But she didn't understand. No one understood.
He was cast out.Mocked.Despised.
And in the end, he chose silence.He chose to disappear—from a world that had no place for a man like him.
One year later, after working as a mere salaryman—
He died… quietly.
No funeral. No mourning.Only the lifeless body of a man who once carried the weight of an entire war upon his shoulders.
But God… did not allow his story to end there.He was given a "chance"—one that no one had ever asked for.A chance… to begin again.
And in a new world, one filled with "superpowers" and "heroes,"Reijinn—the survivor of the Third World War—returned once more.But this time… he was not a "hero."He was a "shadow."A shadow that would devour everything called "morality" and "hope."
Now—he awakened.His eyes fixed on the ceiling above.
"A hospital… again?"
He turned his head, scanning the room.There they were—Momo and Mina—dozing off by his bedside.A quick glance at the window told him it was already deep into the night.
The two girls had fallen asleep in exhaustion, their faces marked by strain and worry.He noticed a small string of drool slipping from the corner of Momo's lips.For a moment, he couldn't help but think—that in sleep, they both looked almost unbelievably cute.
But when his mind drifted back to what Momo had done before…his irritation flared up all over again.
Whatever. Maybe he was just being petty.If that were true, then perhaps it really did end here.
He was just about to sit up, when Momo suddenly stirred awake.Her eyes fixed on him without a word, and he returned her gaze in silence.
The room grew heavier, quieter. Mina was still asleep, completely unaware.
Momo rose quietly, stepping closer to him, and whispered:
Momo: "Ryo, we need to talk. Will you come with me… to the rooftop?"
Reijinn gave no reply, only a small nod, before rising to follow her.
On the rooftop.
Momo: "Ryo… I want to know. Why were you like that back then?"
Her voice carried genuine concern, and a deep, pressing curiosity.
Reijinn fell silent, drawing in a long breath, before asking instead:
Reijinn: "Then… what do you think of Todoroki?"
Momo tilted her head, puzzled.
Momo: "What do I think of Todoroki-kun? He's a teammate… that's all."
Her blunt answer gave him some relief. But still, what he truly wanted to hear was—
Reijinn: "Momo… do you love me?"
She paused for a heartbeat, then smiled softly.
Momo: "I don't know… But I do know this—I dream of having children with you."
Her smile radiated warmth, the same warmth that had captured his heart the first time they met.It made him want to hold her close, never letting her go.
Reijinn: "Mo, listen… I need to say something. It might be long, but it's how I feel."
He confessed his pain—how it tore at him to see her so close to Todoroki, how Todoroki's lingering glances made his heart ache to the point of breaking. He admitted he sometimes wanted to punch him, to erase that feeling, and other times he felt he wasn't worthy of her at all.
Momo blinked, startled by his raw honesty, but shook her head gently in understanding.She stepped closer, wrapping her arms tightly around him, whispering softly:
Momo: "Ryo… my heart doesn't want anyone else. Do you understand? This heart—I've already given it to you, and only you."
Her words filled him with a warmth so pure it felt like his chest might burst.
He kissed her again—this time with no questions, no doubts.Only the deep, undeniable desire to build a family with her, to have five or six children, to truly marry her and never let go.
Together, they lifted their gaze to the moon above, its gentle light draping the world in silver.Tonight had become the most precious night of his life.
And yet, somewhere deep inside… he felt they had forgotten something.
Back at the hospital room.
Mina: "Wait… where did those two go?"
next day
After he had cleared everything up with Momo the night before, he brought her back to his room once again.This time, he looked around for the surveillance cameras and disabled them—otherwise, they'd definitely end up on the news.
Only then did they start their couple activities without worry. With Mina joining in as well, today he felt completely drained. Even though his body was still wrapped in bandages, their fiery love showed no signs of resting either.
He slumped down onto the desk from exhaustion, while the two girls opposite him looked radiant, glowing even brighter and more youthful than before.
With a soft sigh, Momo walked over to him and knelt down so their eyes were on the same level. She gently caressed his cheek with love. After last night, it seemed like Momo had become bolder in showing her feelings—it was clear how much she loved him.
'Let's get married,' he thought to himself, warmth filling his heart.
Mina leaned in, grinning, and cut in:"Guys... I've been dying to hear about the training camp!"
Midoriya quickly tried to smooth out the mood."Uh... we don't know for sure yet. There could be some last-minute changes!"
Kaminari burst into tears like a waterfall."Idiot! There's no way something like that would happen!"
Midoriya hurried to calm everyone down."Come on, don't stress. Let's just hear the results."
Ryujin walked to the front of the room and opened his mouth."Don't be sad, kiddo. I'll let you know how it turns out."
Mina, standing nearby, shouted at the top of her lungs:"Ryo, you idiot!!!"
Laughter erupted just as the door opened and Aizawa-sensei walked in, holding our test results. He glanced at the class, and instantly everyone scrambled back to their seats as if terrified of being scolded.
Aizawa used his capture scarf to snag Ryujin again, a slightly twisted smile on his face."All right. Looks like someone didn't pass. Let's talk about this."
He sighed before pulling out a tablet to display the results. Everyone swallowed nervously, while Ryujin was bound in front of the class.
'Damn it! Who knew Sensei liked to mess around like this? Should I just take my shirt off next time?'
Aizawa continued,"Unfortunately, there were still those who failed the practical. But—everyone gets to go to the training camp!"
The entire room burst into cheers. Aizawa explained further that it had only been a logical ruse, though Iida muttered about his trust in U.A. dropping a little.
"All right, you're all going. But those who failed the practical will have to take extra lessons with me."
"These are your results, both theoretical and practical. They're here so you can see what needs improvement. Real battlefield experience will always teach more than theory. This doesn't mean your performance was bad. I expect all of you to aim for Plus Ultra, understood?"
"Yes, Sensei!"
Everyone shouted in unison, full of excitement, as the projector displayed the rankings—even with a few surprises.
The results revealed the rankings: naturally, number one was still his beloved Momo, while Ryujin landed in 7th place, solidly in the middle—not bad.
Bakugo immediately shouted,"What the hell!? Why am I ranked below Deku and stuck in the middle like some loser!?"
Todoroki answered flatly,"Because you're weak."
Bakugo snapped,"Say that again, bastard!!!"
Ochako cheered,"I did it, Deku-kun! I finally improved!"
Izuku smiled back."Congratulations, Ochako."
Iida muttered to himself,"I must work harder. I need to learn more. Intelligence alone won't be enough!"
Everyone was happy with their results; their practical scores had improved, and the mood had lifted.
Ryujin looked at Momo, who smiled with satisfaction at keeping her top spot, while Mina, too, had improved from her previously low scores.
Aizawa suddenly frowned as if he'd forgotten something."Ah. Looks like I almost forgot something."
He turned to Ryujin again."Oh, right—you."
Then he loosened his scarf, finally giving Ryujin back his freedom