At fifteen, Arven Soltaire was no longer a boy bound by the orphanage. His mind had carried him further, further than anyone could follow. Universities whispered his name, professors sought his insights, and the gates of academia opened before him.
But brilliance came at a cost.
The girl—the one who had once promised him a future—slowly slipped away. Letters went unanswered. Days turned into months, and months into years. Their contact faded, lost beneath the weight of Arven's ambitions and the cruel distance of time.
---
Three years later.
One week before the events that would awaken the cosmos against him.
Arven stood once more before the rusted gates of the orphanage. The place looked smaller now, weaker, as if time had gnawed away its cruelty. The children greeted him with tears and laughter—no longer children, but survivors.
Yet one face was missing.
The news came in whispers, carried by trembling lips:
"She's gone."
Arven's body froze.
"She was forced… to marry a conglomerate," one of his younger brothers explained, his voice cracking. "She… she suffered. Until her heart couldn't take it anymore."
The words rang hollow, but the silence that followed carved deeper than any truth. The girl who had once cried for him, who had once sworn forever, was truly gone.
---
That night, rage unlike any calculation he had ever written took root in Arven's chest. He moved with precision, cold and merciless.
The orphanage's owner—the man who had fed on their suffering—was dragged into prison, his empire of cruelty shattered. One by one, Arven freed his siblings, guiding them into new lives away from the shackles of the past.
But when it was over, when freedom was finally in their hands, Arven stood alone beneath the sky. No victory could mask the hollow ache inside him.
"Even in another universe," he whispered to the wind, "would you still be waiting for me?"
---
That night, Arven dreamed.
He saw her again—alive, smiling, mocking him with that sharp tongue. Yet when he reached out, she dissolved into light.
Arven awoke with a start. The room around him was not the orphanage, but his research lab, screens flickering with data. The morning sun spilled across his desk.
It was the day after the voice from the stars had spoken.
The line between dream and reality blurred. And for the first time, Arven wondered:
Had the universe taken something from him… or was it preparing to give something back?
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