The city in 2025 never slept.
Even in the quiet hours before dawn, a low hum of activity flowed through its streets. Cars moved endlessly, horns echoing between buildings, neon lights reflecting off damp asphalt. It was a familiar sight, unchanging, relentless.
To Chan Xingfan, it was just another meaningless day.
He had long grown tired of living like this. Each morning blended into the next, his life moving forward without direction or purpose. Nothing ever changed.
Then he saw the child.
A small figure stood frozen in the middle of the road, eyes wide with terror, legs refusing to move. Headlights cut through the darkness as a car rushed toward them at full speed.
Chan Xingfan did not think.
"Hay!"
His body moved before his mind could react.
He ran forward and shoved the child with all his strength.
The boy fell hard onto the pavement, barely managing to catch himself. Tears welled in his eyes as he stared back in confusion, fear written plainly across his face. Then, scrambling to his feet, the child stumbled away from the road safe.
Chan Xingfan did not turn to look again.
In that brief moment of silence, something felt wrong.
Too quiet.
The blinding headlights filled his vision.
SCREEECH!
Pain struck him like a hammer.
His body was thrown into the air as the world spun violently. The ground rushed up to meet him, and everything shattered in an instant.
When he opened his eyes, he was lying on the cold road.
Warm liquid spread beneath his back. His limbs refused to respond, no matter how hard he tried to move them. Faces gathered above him—blurred, distorted, panicked. Their voices echoed as if they were coming from far away.
"Call an ambulance!"
"He's bleeding badly!"
Chan Xingfan tried to speak, but no sound came out. His chest felt unbearably heavy, every breath a struggle.
Was this a dream?
Hands pressed against him as he was lifted onto a stretcher. Red and blue lights flashed overhead, painting the night in chaotic colors as sirens screamed through the streets.
Inside the ambulance, the ceiling lights flickered endlessly.
Each breath grew harder than the last.
So, this is how it ends…
"I'm going to die…"
The words escaped his lips in a broken whisper.
"…Finally, I'll be free from this miserable life."
There was no fear in his heart. Only exhaustion.
No one would be sad if he died. No one would mourn him. He had lived twenty-five years without leaving anything behind that truly mattered.
Memories surfaced empty rooms, unanswered messages, nights spent staring at the ceiling, wondering where everything had gone wrong.
All I have… are regrets.
The sirens faded.
The voices disappeared.
Darkness slowly crept into his vision as his eyelids grew unbearably heavy.
As his consciousness slipped away, Chan Xingfan felt something strange.
A faint warmth. A distant sensation.
Like a heartbeat… but not his own.
Then everything went black.
But this was not the end.