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Chapter 1: Arrival of the Messenger
Blue eyes blazed with a cool aura.
> "We won't lose…"
A mysterious voice echoed as those eyes slowly closed, and the background faded into blue.
The scene transitioned into a clear sky—brilliant, cloudless, and endless. A blazing star burned in the middle of it, the sun of this place. A gentle breeze whispered across barren land with no grass, no trees—only plains stretching endlessly. The wind slid through a valley between two towering plateaus, carrying silence with it.
The world held its breath.
From above, the earth looked empty—an endless plain broken only by the two plateaus with a valley in between. But it was not empty for long. A lone black figure moved steadily across the desolate land.
The breeze pressed against him, making his long black cloak sway. Its folds rippled softly, shadows shifting with each step. A tall collar rose behind his neck, brushing his jaw and casting a partial shadow that veiled his eyes and nose, leaving only his lips and chin in view.
His pace was steady. Calm. As though time itself waited for him.
Through his half-shadowed eyes, the man gazed at the mountains, then up at the vast sky—thoughts wandering to another place, another time.
> "I wonder how much time has passed since then…"
He whispered the words like a memory, not expecting an answer.
He tilted his face upward, the faint smile on his lips hidden by shadows of his black hair.
The view pushed deeper—through the darkness of his eyes.
Stars shimmered in a sea of space. Galaxies whirled, radiant and endless. The sight rushed forward at impossible speed until a blue-green sphere appeared, cloaked in clouds and oceans. Earth.
The vision dived closer—across deserts, jungles, mountains, and plains. It reached a village, then zoomed outward to reveal the city it connected to.
From above, a crow soared across the city sky. It flew past mountains and snow-capped hills, cutting through a storm until the clouds parted. A rising sun lit the world, scattering golden light across drifting clouds. The crow dived through the morning air, into the bustling city.
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The city roared with life—cars honked, people hurried across sidewalks, and a distant train rumbled past a bridge. Sunlight bounced off glass towers and glimmered on rushing windshields.
In a darkened room, a fat boy sat gaming on a massive screen, snacks piled at his side. Only his black hair and back were visible. For a brief moment, a black aura flickered around him, glitching like static on a corrupted screen.
The scene shifted—
A football field. A young athlete stood tall with a ball under his foot, the roar of a crowd shaking the ground. Lightning sparked in his hair and eyes, yellow aura crackling around him, a serious expression etched into his face.
The scene flickered again—
Pedestrians crossing a zebra line. A sparrow shot past, chased by a crow at impossible speed, leaving the people stunned in its wake.
And then—
Amid the chaos of the city, in a quiet apartment hidden among the noise, a boy turned eighteen.
Curtains fluttered as the morning breeze slipped into his room. A soft creak sounded as he sat up, rubbing his eyes.
His jet-black hair was slightly messy, and his eyes were dark as midnight. His face looked weary—not from lack of sleep, but from carrying something heavier.
> "I want to restart in this life again…"
He paused.
> "Why am I even saying that? As if it would ever come true."
He gave a short, bitter laugh.
This wasn't the first time he had thought about it. But something about this birthday made the wish feel heavier… more real.
He sat still for a moment, hunched on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor. From the side, his aura shimmered faintly, filling the air around him. For a heartbeat, his lips curled into a blue-tinged smile, his eyes blazing bright with azure light.
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Far away, in a place no human eyes had ever seen—
Above silver clouds that shimmered like liquid light, a figure sat upon a throne of stillness. No walls. No floor. Only endless sky. The white throne floated gently upon the clouds, radiating calm.
The figure's form was hidden—only a smile was visible. Wide. Knowing. Gentle.
The clouds pulsed beneath his throne, glowing softly from within.
> The wish had been heard.
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Back on Earth…
A crow chased a sparrow midair, weaving wildly through clotheslines and balconies. Another crow—the same one that had flown across the city since morning—hovered nearby, distracted.
At that moment, the birthday boy rose from the bed. His gaze flicked to the window—just as the crow darted toward it.
The bird crashed through with a thud, colliding into him.
He froze, startled, then looked down at the unconscious crow in his arms. Carefully, he set it on the bed. To his surprise, the bird relaxed instantly, curling into the sheets as though comforted by his presence.
"I think… you're just tired," he murmured softly.
He covered the crow with a blanket, placed a biscuit and a small bowl of water nearby, and watched it rest. The boy's expression softened into a faint, kind smile before he slung his bag over his shoulder and left the room.
Downstairs, a voice called from the kitchen:
> "Happy Birthday, [Name]!"
The name reached him faintly—almost like a glitch in reality. As though the universe itself refused to let it be heard.
> "Thanks…" he replied, forcing a smile.
He sat at the dining table, quietly eating breakfast. His mother's voice continued from the kitchen, though she never appeared. She felt present, yet distant—like someone speaking from behind a veil.
Everything seemed normal.
Too normal.
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Later, he stepped into the city streets. Sunlight warmed the pavement. He passed by cafés, rushing cars, and countless strangers. But the noise faded into the background, drowned out by the weight of his thoughts.
He reached a zebra crossing.
Just as his foot touched the white paint—
Time stopped.
The world froze.
A car hung mid-turn. A bird halted mid-flap. Two more birds, locked in a fight over a biscuit, hovered motionless. A thief running from a guard was frozen mid-stride. A boy proposing with red flowers stood still as petals lingered in the air. A cyclist stopped just before swerving.
Even the wind paused.
He blinked.
The silence pressed down on him. Heavy. Unnatural.
And then—he saw him.
A man stood at the edge of the crossing, facing him.
He wore robes white as untouched snow, glowing faintly like light through mist. His long hair was pure white, and his eyes—brighter still—shone with neither warmth nor cold, only endless clarity.
He smiled.
> "Happy Birthday… [Name]."
Once again, the name was swallowed by silence—refused by the world itself.
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To be continued…
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