The sky shouldn't look like that. Even through the haze clouding his mind and the pain clawing through every nerve, Seth knew something was wrong. The sky is never meant to burn in that sickening shade of reddish-orange, like an open wound stretched across a dying world. It looked as though someone had spilled blood over a ruined canvas and left it there to fester.
The ground trembled beneath him, multiple explosions shaking the earth apart. His ears rang with the unending roar of cannon fire and the screams, horrible, distorted screams that no longer sounded human.
The air is heavy with smoke and dust, sharp with the tang of metal and the unbearable scent of burning flesh. Beneath it all lingered something darker, a smell that clung to his throat, the unmistakable stench of death.
"Seth! Go! Don't stop, soldier!" Major Hendricks' voice sounded far away, like it was coming through water.
Seth tried to answer, but his mouth wouldn't obey. His body felt disconnected, his legs dragging through the sludge beneath him. Whether it's mud or blood doesn't matter anymore. His only focus is to keep moving.
Then the pain hit again. It came without warning, a searing, electric stab at the base of his skull, as if a heated blade were being driven straight into his brain. Seth stumbled, one hand clutching his head, desperate to rip out whatever invisible thing is tearing him apart from the inside.
His vision warped. The battlefield twisted into a swirl of broken colors and shapes until everything bled together. His lips moved, but no sound came out. He could only mouth the same words over and over again, words that had become his prayer, his curse, and his only anchor.
"Just hold on a little longer…" That was what the military doctors had told him two years ago, their pity hidden behind forced professionalism.
An incurable disease, they'd said. It would eat away at his brain, his memories, his coordination, and his very sense of self until there's nothing left. They gave him six months.
Yet two years later, Seth is still here. Not because he's stronger than anyone else or chosen by fate. He's simply too stubborn to die.
But even stubbornness had its limits. And Seth could feel him slipping away, thinning by the day, by the hour, by the heartbeat. Out here on this cursed battlefield, surrounded by death and fire, his body is no longer obeying the laws of men. It's crossing into something else, something that no longer felt human at all.
He had lost 20 kilograms in the previous six months, and his hands shook even when he wasn't experiencing pain. Sometimes he couldn't see his friends' faces.
Seth, on the other hand, remained here while he was on the front lines. People were killed here because their beliefs no longer made sense.
"Soldier, get up! We need to leave now!" Hendricks grabbed his shoulder and dragged him behind the smoking wreckage of a tank.
"Do you copy, soldier? They are about to—"
BANG.
The world transitioned from white to black and red. Seth was thrown, and his body struck something solid, such as metal or concrete. He didn't know what it was. He heard a high-pitched sound that hurt his ears. His tongue felt sick from the strong, thick taste of metal.
He could see again, but the images were blurry and out of focus. He noticed Hendricks lying down a few feet away. Metal shrapnel, still lodged in his skull, severed half of the major's face. The remaining eye stared blankly at the sky as it burned.
Seth didn't scream because he no longer had the energy to do so. Major Hendricks was a kind man. He had a wife and two daughters waiting for him in a city that may no longer exist.
A man who always gave Seth some of his bread when he was unable to eat due to pain. He told Seth, "You'll get home, kid."
"I promise."
He would never return home now. Seth crawled. He wasn't sure where to go. His body moved on its own, a survival instinct that was fading but still present.
The hot, cracked ground left red marks on his palms. The world around him fell apart in a crazy way. Buildings with multiple floors collapsed like toys, fighter jets fell from the sky in spirals of fire, and something larger emerged from the ruins in the distance.
It was a Titan-class war machine. Seth had already spotted one. In their final act of desperation, they built a fifty-meter-high killing machine. A weapon designed to end the war. However, this weapon became a symbol of how stupid people are.
There were three people in front of him now. Three metal monsters move slowly, destroying everything in their path. Their lasers moved side to side, cutting through buildings, tanks, and people with terrifying precision.
This was it. This marked the end of it all. His head ached more and more. This time it was much worse than the previous times he had felt it.
Seth fell to his knees and gripped the ground so tightly that his nails broke. He was having difficulty breathing. His vision was filled with painful flashes of light, first white, then gold, and finally black.
He heard voices in his head, but they were no longer the sounds of war. They were deeper, like whispers coming from a bottomless pit. He had never heard the song sung in that language before, but he could understand it.
"Chosen soul with a heart of gold..."
Seth shook his head hard to get rid of the image. It had happened before. Lately, he had been hearing strange voices.
The doctors said it was because his brain was getting worse and sending out the wrong signals. But this voice sounded different, like it was real.
"You're going to die here."
When the thought came to his mind, it was very clear and scary, making him shivering with fear.
"You're going to die, and no one will remember you."
"Nobody will ever know you were here."
The thought keep coming out of knowhere that it made Seth realize that maybe it's his time to bite the dust. Seth laughed weakly and bitterly, full of despair that went beyond sadness. He shook his hands as he raised his head and looked at the burning sky for the last time.
It was hard to hear him say, "Good. I'm tired already. Why have I been holding on for so long?"
He wasn't aware that he was crying. However, there was a sense of relief that everything would be over, especially his pain, suffering, and the never-ending war would be over. Seth closed his eyes then everything came apart.
There was no explosion or noise, but only a faint light. The light was so bright that it tore apart reality. Seth believed his body was destroyed, but it wasn't; instead, it had simply been broken down. It felt like he was becoming a part of the light, drawn into a current he couldn't resist.
He felt better, and his headache had subsided. For a moment, there was only silence. The silence was perfect and complete, like the last hug given by the dying world.
Seth couldn't tell if he was falling or rising. There was only a serene environment that made him want to sleep forever. But then he felt something warm on his chest. It felt soft and warm, not like the heat of a fire or an explosion. Seth, or someone who used to be Seth, opened his eyes until his awareness was the first thing he noticed, and it was not death, war, or destruction.
The darkness flows like a river through the golden light. The light pulsed and breathed as if it had its own consciousness. And in that light, something looked at him, not with eyes, but with an ancient and powerful presence.
He sensed a presence that made him feel small yet significant. He felt as if someone saw him for the first time in his life. He heard a voice that made no noise. The voice was difficult to understand because it was both soft and strong.
"You have been chosen, wounded soul. Your fate is not over. What you thought was the end is actually the start of a path that has been set out for you since the beginning of time.
Seth was intrigued by what he said; he really wanted to express how he felt, but he couldn't say anything or make any noise. The light was the only thing that kept him going, drawing him deeper into the golden current that carried him across the gap between two worlds.
Seth sensed a shift within himself during that trip. Something that was broken started to get better. Something that had died came back to life. Something dark started to glow.
He didn't know what it was. Not yet. When Seiya first opened his eyes in the new world, he had no memory of Seth. Not yet. But something in his chest moved in an unusual and familiar way. Something glowing gold felt warm and powerful in ways that words cannot describe.
The light was named the Origin Light.
A gift from fate. A curse from the past. This is the start of a story that will change the world, change history, and demonstrate that even the most hurt person can be the brightest light in the dark.
Not everyone is is born to be a hero. They are created through loss, pain, and death. Then they come back stronger, brighter, and forever changed.