Chapter 1 – The Beginning of Judgement
Rael's life began in the small warmth of a middle class family. His father, Daniel, was not a rich man. He was not powerful, not important in the eyes of the world. He was just a simple office employee quiet, hardworking, and honest. Every morning, he left for work in the same faded shirt, carrying his old briefcase, and every evening he returned tired, yet with a smile ready for his wife and son.
The family did not own much. Their home had two rooms, with walls that cracked in the heat and a roof that leaked when it rained. But inside, there was love. His mother's gentle hands kept the house alive. She cooked simple meals rice, vegetables, bread and always served Rael first, even if she had to eat less herself. When the electricity failed, which happened often, she would light a small lamp and tell him stories until he fell asleep.
"Life is not about how much you have," his father often told him. "It's about being honest and on the right path , Rael. Remember that."
Rael never understood the depth of those words then. To him, life was plain, almost ordinary. He thought it would stay that way. But fate had already written something darker.
It happened one evening. Daniel was walking home from the office, as he always did. The street was crowded, filled with people hurrying, vendors shouting, children running. Suddenly, a man came crashing into him. His eyes were wild. Before Daniel could ask anything, the man shoved something into his hands and disappeared into the crowd.
Daniel looked down, confused. His fingers trembled. A small packet sat in his palm. Drugs.
Before he could throw it away, before he could shout that it wasn't his, police officers swarmed in.
"There! We caught him red-handed!" one of them yelled.
"What? No this isn't mine!" Daniel tried to explain, his voice shaking. "Someone just"
But no one listened. The officers twisted his arms, snapped handcuffs onto his wrists, and dragged him away.
Rael still remembered the scene. His mother screaming, "Please, he's innocent! He would never please listen!" The sound of the cuffs closing shut. His father's desperate eyes looking back at them, helpless.
In court, Daniel fought. He swore he was innocent. He begged the judge to believe him. But truth meant nothing. The mafia had set him up. They paid money, twisted evidence, and bribed the judge. The verdict came cold and heavy: guilty.
That single word destroyed everything.
His father returned from prison a shadow of himself. The once proud, hardworking man now walked slowly, his back bent, his eyes hollow. His spirit was gone. Neighbors whispered. Friends avoided them. The world treated him as nothing but a criminal.
The weight crushed the family. With no money and no respect, survival became harder each day. Illness followed. Rael's mother coughed endlessly, her body weakening. His father too grew sick, his health eaten away by stress and shame.
One by one, Rael lost them both. First his father, then his mother.
The boy who once had a home filled with warmth was left in silence.
After their deaths, Rael had no one. No family, no guidance, no dreams. He left school and started working. Any job that paid a little, he took it. Washing dishes. Carrying boxes. Cleaning floors. He never complained, but life was cruel.
Every coin he earned felt like a battle. He ate only enough to fill his stomach. He slept on thin mattresses in small rented rooms.
Yet Rael never gave up. Deep inside, the memory of his father's eyes the disbelief, the injustice kept burning. The law had failed them. The system was rotten. He swore to himself, quietly, that no one else should suffer the way his family did. But swearing was all he could do. He was powerless.
One night, while working at a shop, he was bullied by a customer. The man mocked him, laughed at him, and before leaving, leaned close and whispered with a smirk:
"If I see you outside, you're finished."
The words dug deep into Rael's chest. He tried to ignore them, but fear clung to him.
Later that night, walking home through empty streets, it happened. A group of robbers appeared. Their eyes glinted with greed. They demanded money, but Rael had nothing to give.
"I… I don't have anything," he said, his voice trembling.
They didn't care. They laughed, shoved him, kicked him. Something inside Rael snapped. He had nothing left to lose. So he fought back.
But reality was cruel. He was not a fighter. was beaten down, and in the end, one of them raised a gun.
The sound of the shot split the night. A burning pain tore through his body.
Rael fell. The world turned black. The last thing he felt was the cold ground under him.
When Rael opened his eyes, he wasn't in the street anymore. He was lying in a bed. His hands rushed to his chest no wounds, no blood. His body… it felt different. Younger than usual.
The room around him looked like a hotel. Clean walls, neat furniture, sheets softer than anything he had ever touched. The air smelled fresh. He sat up slowly, his heart racing.
"Where… where am I? I… I was dead. I remember the bullet."
He stumbled to the window. Outside, he saw the city from above. Sixth floor? Seventh? His head spun.
On the table was a folded paper. He picked it up.
"When you wake up, go to the counter. Ask about nova"
"Nova?" Rael whispered. "I don't even know where I am… but let's do it."
He left the room and went to the counter. The receptionist, calm and polite, handed him a slip of paper with an address.
When he opened the slip, it said:
Blackwood District, Building 405.
The address led Rael to a plain, ordinary looking building in the middle of the city. It wasn't tall or grand just four floors, built with faded bricks and a rusty gate at the front. From the outside, it looked like any other old apartment building. Laundry hung from the balconies, and children played on the street nearby. Nothing about it seemed strange.
He pushed open the front door. Inside, it was quiet. A narrow hallway stretched ahead, the walls painted in a dull beige color. The lights flickered slightly, but everything else felt normal too normal.
At the end of the hallway, he found a staircase. It went both up and down. His eyes stopped at the steps leading underground.
The basement.
Unlike the rest of the building, the basement door was heavy, made of iron instead of wood. It looked out of place, as if it didn't belong here. Rael hesitated for a second, but then he remembered the note.
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the handle and pulled. The hinges groaned, and a cold draft of air brushed past him. The smell of damp concrete hit his nose.
Step by step, he went down the stairs. The deeper he went, the darker it got. The sound of the city above faded away until there was nothing but silence.
Suddenly, the lights flickered on. Two people sat inside the room. One, a man, was at a table typing on a laptop. The other, a girl, was seated on a sofa with papers in her hands.
"Oh, Rael. You came, just as I expected," the man said without looking up.
"Who are you? And how do you know my name?" Rael asked cautiously.
"It's a long story. Sit first, and we'll explain everything." The man finally closed his laptop. "By the way, I'm Nova, and this is Mirae. Don't worry, we won't hurt you. We're the ones who saved you."
Rael blinked. "Saved me?"
"Yes," Mirae said calmly. "We know everything about you your birth, your life, your death. We know what happened to your family. You didn't get justice, Rael. But now… you can make sure no one else suffers like you did."
Rael clenched his fists. "So… what do you want me to do?"
Nova's eyes hardened. "Spread justice. The justice you never received. There's a list of names people who need to be erased."
He slid a sheet of paper toward Rael.
1. Evan Cross
2. Draven Holt
Rael's throat went dry. "But… how can I fight them? I'm just…."
"Don't worry about that," Nova said with a faint smile. "You're not the same Rael anymore. I'll send you to someone who will train you After that, you'll get what you truly desire."
Rael's chest tightened. For the first time since his parents' death, he felt a spark hope.