Part2 : New life

Felix stood in the middle of his room, the slip of paper from the stranger clutched tightly in his hand. The words blurred in his vision, his fingers trembling as he tried to process what had just happened.

The name on the paper—**"Eterna Institute of Advancement"**—felt heavy, like a stone dragging him underwater.

He sank onto the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the cracked wall in front of him. His mind was a storm, fragments of the day clashing with old wounds that refused to heal.

And then, like a wave crashing over him, the memory came.

---

It was a quiet evening, the kind that always felt like a temporary reprieve in Felix's chaotic world. The house was still, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the soft ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Felix sat at the kitchen table, his hands buried in his hair as tears streamed down his face. He hadn't eaten dinner, his appetite swallowed by a deep, gnawing emptiness.

His grandfather, a wiry man with a kind face and tired eyes, stood by the stove, pouring two cups of tea. He placed one in front of Felix and sat across from him, the old chair creaking under his weight.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the soft clink of the teaspoon as his grandfather stirred his tea.

"Bad day?" his grandfather asked gently, his voice rough but warm.

Felix sniffled, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt. "Every day's a bad day."

His grandfather leaned back, studying him with a thoughtful expression. "That's not true. You've had some good days."

Felix shook his head, his voice breaking. "Not anymore. I'm tired, Grandpa. I'm tired of everything."

The older man sighed, setting his tea down and leaning forward. "Felix, listen to me." His voice was firmer now, the kind of tone that made Felix look up despite himself.

"You've been dealt a rotten hand," his grandfather said, his eyes sharp and serious. "There's no denying that. But you're not alone in this. You've got me, and as long as I'm around, I'll make sure you're okay. You hear me?"

Felix bit his lip, his hands shaking. "But what if you're not around? What if something happens to you? I don't… I don't think I can do this on my own."

His grandfather's expression softened, and he reached across the table, placing a hand over Felix's. "Felix, I'll always be with you. No matter what happens. Do you understand?"

Felix stared at him, his throat tightening. "You can't promise that."

"I can," his grandfather said, his tone unwavering. "Because as long as you remember the things I've taught you, as long as you hold onto the lessons and the love we've shared, I'll never truly be gone."

Felix's chest ached, the weight of his grandfather's words both comforting and crushing.

The older man smiled faintly, pulling out the battered chessboard from the shelf. "Now, let's play a game. What do you say?"

Felix hesitated, but the small, reassuring smile on his grandfather's face was enough to make him nod.

The game began slowly, each move deliberate, the silence between them filled with unspoken words.

As the minutes turned into hours, Felix found himself immersed in the game, the weight on his shoulders momentarily lifting. His grandfather was calm and focused, his moves precise yet patient.

For the first time in years, Felix felt a spark of determination.

He studied the board carefully, his mind racing as he calculated his next move. Then, with a triumphant grin, he moved his queen into position.

"Checkmate," Felix said, his voice filled with disbelief.

His grandfather blinked, leaning closer to examine the board. A slow smile spread across his face, and he chuckled. "Well, I'll be. You got me."

Felix's heart swelled with pride, a feeling he hadn't experienced in so long it almost felt foreign.

Before he could say anything, the exhaustion caught up to him. His eyes grew heavy, and he slumped forward, his head resting on the table.

"Good job, kid," his grandfather said softly, his voice filled with pride. He stood, gently lifting Felix into his arms.

As he carried him upstairs, the rest of the family lingered in the hallway, their eyes cold and judgmental.

"What a waste of time," his mother muttered.

His father scoffed. "He's just a loser. No amount of coddling will change that."

His sister sneered, her gaze venomous. "Pathetic."

The words were like knives, but his grandfather didn't falter. He carried Felix to his room, tucking him into bed and brushing a stray lock of hair from his face.

"I'll always be here, Felix," he whispered. "Always."

---

The memory shattered, and Felix found himself back in the present, his chest heaving as the pain consumed him.

"You liar," he whispered, his voice trembling.

Tears streamed down his face, hot and relentless.

"You said you'd never leave me," he choked out, his hands clenching into fists. "You promised!"

His voice rose, breaking with raw emotion. "You lied to me!"

The room felt smaller, suffocating, as he rocked back and forth, his body wracked with sobs.

"I hate you," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I hate you… I hate you…"

But even as the words left his lips, they felt hollow, like echoes in a void.

Felix buried his face in his hands, the weight of his grief pressing down on him like a crushing tide.