Alan walked through the streets in silence.
As he passed by, his school came into view.
His steps slowed.
The memories rushed back all at once- the playground, the pain, the helplessness. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe properly.
For a kid like him, the trauma was still too heavy.
He looked away.
Instead of turning toward the school, Alan walked into a nearby library.
The smell of old books filled the air.
At first, he picked up simple educational books. School-level material. He studied quietly in a corner, day after day. Soon, he began reading beyond his level–history, science, philosophy–anything that caught his interest.
One day, he gathered the courage to speak to the library owner.
He offered to clean the library every day in exchange for being allowed to stay and study.
The owner was an old man with tired eyes and a gentle smile. He saw something rare in Alan, a child who had chosen knowledge instead of giving up.
Impressed by his dedication, the old man agreed.
From that day onward, the library became Alan's second home.
Days turned into weeks.
Weeks turned into months.
Alan never missed a day.
He learned faster than most kids his age. His understanding deepened, his thinking sharpened. The old man began giving him free meals whenever he came. Slowly, without realizing it, Alan was being taken care of.
Five years passed.
One quiet evening, Alan sat alone in his small room, reading a book borrowed from the library. He closed it gently and leaned back in his chair.
His mind wandered.
I've learned a lot…
But this isn't enough.
He looked at his hands.
The memory of the playground flashed again—the fear, the weakness, the moment he couldn't protect himself.
His fingers slowly curled into fists.
Alan stood up and walked toward a framed photograph on his desk.
It was a picture of him with his parents.
Their faces were missing.
He stared at it for a long moment.
Then he exhaled deeply.
His eyes sharpened.
I know what I'm lacking.
---
Next Episode Sneak Peek
A tall figure with silver eyes and white-gray hair stood silently in front of a school gate.
His expression was calm. Emotionless.
The name on the gate read: Blackridge High School
He stepped forward.
Without hesitation, he walked inside.
---
To be continued…