The sky hung heavy with silence. Even the wind seemed to hesitate, unsure whether it had the right to move. The village lay still, unaware of the invisible tremors rolling through space, time, and reality itself.
Ren Kai sat beside the still form of Aria, his tiny hands trembling. The bright innocence of his six-year-old face could not hide the storm within. His soft prism-gray hair fell over his eyes, now shining with a luminance that no ordinary child should possess.
A single tear escaped, falling to the ground, and with it, a quiet tremor rippled through boundless layers of existence.
For the first time, he truly felt the weight of loss.
The seal that had bound him for eons, keeping the infinite power of his true self restrained, quivered. A fraction — infinitesimal yet unimaginably potent — slipped through: 0.0001% of his boundless essence. It was almost nothing in percentage, but enough to bend universes, to whisper across the endless fabrics of existence.
He rose to his feet, small and fragile in appearance, yet the air around him shivered as if reality itself were holding its breath.
Ren Kai lifted his gaze. The void itself recoiled, not in fear, but in recognition. The End of All Things quivered as though an invisible hand had lifted it. Abstract concepts, the highest beings of countless layers of existence, even the raw boundlessness of nothingness — all stirred. They did not resist. They could not. His presence alone commanded them.
His childlike voice trembled, a mere whisper:
"Aria… I… I…"
And yet, with that whisper, a silent authority radiated. Rivers bent their courses, forests swayed in impossible synchrony, and stars spun inward, caught in a delicate spiral around him. The universe, in its infinite complexity, acknowledged the quiet pain of this small, innocent form.
He did not strike, he did not summon fury. He did not even act intentionally. The tiniest fraction of his power — still sealed, still restrained — was enough. He lifted and moved what no being should ever be able to influence. Boundless abstracts, conceptual forces, and the highest entities of every layer bowed subtly to the tremor of his sorrow.
Tears streaked his face as he stumbled, clutching at nothing. Even sealed, even in a body that looked like a child, he was unstoppable. The universe bent, not because he willed it, but because he allowed it.
Ren Kai sank to his knees beside Aria. His sobs were small, innocent, and yet infinite. The tremors of his emotion traveled through dimensions, brushing against every layer of reality. The End of All Things, the nothingness beyond comprehension, the abstract heights that even gods could not touch — all had been moved.
And then he stood silently, still sealed, still a six-year-old child, yet infinitely more. Nothing could oppose him, nothing could even measure him, and the world — all worlds — waited.
Even in sorrow, even restrained, even as a child… Ren Kai was untouchable.
And somewhere deep inside, the universe itself seemed to whisper: He is Ren Kai. He allows all things to exist, even in grief.
The boundless child's quiet tears fell into eternity.