2019. Rain drummed heavily against the roof of a small orphanage on the outskirts of Tokyo. The smell of rust from the old gate mixed with the scent of bland soup boiling in the kitchen.
In a cramped room filled with bunk beds, a black-haired boy sat cross-legged on the floor, his pale eyes fixed on the worn pages of a book in his hands. He was only seven years old. His name: Arven Soltaire.
"Arven!"
A harsh voice erupted from the hallway. The orphanage's owner, a large man with a sour face, dragged in a small, crying child by the arm. "Who stole bread from the kitchen?"
The other children fell silent, frozen in fear.
Arven slowly closed his book. He knew who had done it. The little boy who was sobbing had only been too hungry, too weak to hold his stomach any longer.
Arven stood. "I did," he said calmly.
The children's eyes widened. They knew Arven never took more food than anyone else.
The owner sneered. "You again, huh? Stubborn brat." His heavy hand struck Arven's cheek. The boy's small body staggered, but his eyes never lowered.
That night, he was punished by being forced to clean the backyard alone in the cold. But when he returned to the room, the other children were waiting, secretly slipping a small piece of bread into his hand.
"Thank you, Arven," whispered one of the younger girls.
Arven only gave a thin smile. His lips bled, but in his eyes flickered something else—resolve.
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Under the dim glow of the lamp, he opened his book again. Its pages were filled with images and words about the multiverse—parallel worlds, branching timelines, limitless possibilities.
"If this world isn't fair," he murmured, "then maybe there's another world where justice exists. A world where I don't have to lie to protect others."
He turned the page, staring at the illustrations of universes diverging like rivers.
"Maybe… I can find it."
For a seven-year-old child, it was only a dream. But inside him, a seed of obsession had been planted. An obsession not just to survive—but to uncover the truth beyond the sky, a truth greater than the daily suffering of the orphanage.
And from that night on, Arven Soltaire was no longer just an orphanage boy.
He was a seeker of hidden worlds.
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