Death did not come gently.
It came with rain.
Cold sheets of water slammed against the alley stones, washing blood into narrow streams that disappeared into the dark. A boy lay sprawled against the wall, breath ragged, fingers trembling as they clawed weakly at the ground.
Arav's vision blurred.
The knife had already fallen.
The footsteps were gone.
So this was it.
His chest burned—not with pain alone, but with something heavier. Regret. Anger. The quiet suffocating realization that his life had ended before it ever truly began.
Is this all I was worth?
The rain offered no answer.
His heartbeat slowed. Sound faded first, then sensation. Even the cold loosened its grip, retreating into a distant numbness.
And in that hollow stillness—
Something noticed him.
Not a god.
Not a voice.
A presence.
Reality trembled, as though a thread had been plucked from the fabric of existence.
[Residual Will Detected.]
[Soul Integrity: Preserved.]
[Temporal Displacement… Accepted.]
Light bloomed.
Warm. Endless. Unforgiving.
Arav tried to scream, but his lungs were already empty.
The rain vanished.
The alley vanished.
The world folded inward.
Somewhere beyond time, an ancient flame stirred.
[Reinitializing Origin Vector.]
The last thing Arav felt before everything broke apart—
Was heat.
Not pain.
Not fear.
But the steady, unwavering warmth of something that refused to let him end.
Author's Note:
This is a slow-burn progression story. Power grows through control, consequence, and understanding rather than sudden leaps.
If you enjoy steady growth and a world that reacts over time, I hope you'll stay.