Damian stood in silence, watched that decisive back vanish, struggling to cage the chaos clawing at his heart.
The blossoms in Solstice Park swayed under the fading sun, their petals painting the ground in white and pink. Five years from now, such a sight would vanish forever. Once the air was poisoned and the corpse tides grew stronger, flowers would never bloom again.
In his memory, the world after the fifth year was suffocating.
The outer zones were choked with hunger, while even the inner core lost its shine. Only the old families and high-ranked ability users still had access to natural food. Everyone else lived on nutrient paste—bland, gray, tasteless—and even that became scarce as prices tripled. People went to bed hungry more often than not.
The reason was carved into his bones.
A mutated Psionic had unleashed his forbidden ability—Absolute Death Domain—in a battle against the D'Armand clan, one of the great families.
That day, half of the fertile "pure lands" withered into nothing. Fields turned sterile. Rivers soured. The breadbasket of the base shrank by half in mere minutes. From then on, bread, meat, and fresh vegetables became treasures.
Yes—this year, right now, was still the best year to live in. After this, each year would only grow worse.
Back then, Damian still lived in the outer zone. That was where he had met Elian Frost.
Elian was unlike anyone he had ever seen—cold, ethereal, breathtakingly beautiful. The most striking Psionic he had ever laid eyes on. Damian had fallen instantly, caring nothing for Elian's low rank.
Elian's family was poor, with eight children crammed into a tiny space. Damian had always brought him small gifts, slipped money into his younger siblings' hands. Their family liked him, welcomed him warmly.
In his last life, when he confessed here, Elian had said yes. Damian had been overjoyed, certain he had found his destiny.
But this time, Damian walked into a restaurant and ordered for himself.
A full meal of natural food—something he hadn't tasted in years.
The scent of warm, fluffy bread filled the air. Golden crust, soft inside, steaming as he tore it apart. A plate of potatoes stewed with beef, rich and savory. A tall glass of beer, cold and bitter, sliding down his throat.
He closed his eyes.
This was happiness. Pure, simple, overwhelming.
He hadn't eaten like this in a decade. In his past life, every bit of natural food had been pushed to Elian—because Elian disliked nutrient paste. Damian himself had chewed on the bland slurry while giving away the real taste of life.
But today, for the first time in ten years, he ate.
The bread was fragrant, the beef melted in his mouth, the beer lit his chest with warmth.
It cost him ten thousand credits for a single meal. And yet—this was the best meal of his entire life.
For the first time since waking again, Damian felt the joy of rebirth seep into his bones.