Against the Tide of Fate

The darkness surges forward, a wave of suffocating power that seeks to crush me beneath its weight. But I don't stop. I can't. My blade cuts through the swirling void, the force of my strike splitting the air itself. The entity recoils, if only slightly, before pressing forward again.

The Hero moves beside me, his divine sword glowing with radiant energy as he swings, cleaving through the encroaching darkness. Even together, it feels like we're barely holding back an unstoppable tide.

"You're insane," the Hero grits out, parrying a strike of writhing tendrils. "Even if we survive this, you're declaring war on fate itself."

"I know," I say, my voice steady. I sidestep a crushing force aimed at my head and retaliate with a flurry of precise slashes. "And that's exactly why I'll win."

The entity pulses, its countless eyes narrowing. "You will not. You are bound by the cycle like all before you."

"No," I growl, aura surging through my body, amplifying my speed and strength. "I refuse to be bound by anything."

I leap forward, driving my sword deep into the writhing abyss. For a moment, I feel resistance—then something shifts. A pull, deeper than anything I've felt before. My vision distorts, my body feeling like it's being unraveled and stitched back together all at once.

The Hero shouts my name, but his voice fades, swallowed by an overwhelming sensation of movement. Of time itself slipping through my fingers.

Then—

Silence.

I gasp, my body heaving as I crash onto solid ground. The air is warm, familiar. I push myself up, vision swimming, before freezing in place.

In the distance, I see a familiar figure.

A younger version of me.

This isn't just the past.

Time has reset.

And I'm back at the beginning of my journey.

Kael's earliest memories are those of darkness, a place where the weight of the world felt suffocating and oppressive. He wasn't born into a life of privilege or comfort, but one of hardship, surrounded by the barren hills and desolate plains that lay at the edge of Persia. His parents, both simple farmers, were never able to provide much, but they did their best to raise him with love, shelter, and the hope that one day things would be different. Yet, even from a young age, Kael could feel the constraints of this world—the invisible hand of fate tightening around his throat, dictating every step he took. The whispers of the gods, faint but ever-present, seemed to mock his very existence.

As a child, Kael never understood what it meant to be free. The concept was foreign to him, as if it was a luxury that only the fortunate could afford. He watched as the children of wealth and power roamed freely, without the constant weight of survival pressing down on them. They could dream of a future without fear, without doubt. Meanwhile, he fought daily just to stay alive, to keep his family fed, and to stave off the crushing reality that his life would be nothing more than a series of struggles—a repetition of history.

One fateful day, when he was still a boy, everything changed.

A powerful force swept through the region, a battle between the gods' champions that shook the very earth beneath Kael's feet. The conflict left his home in ruins, his family dead, and his world shattered. The gods had not just abandoned him; they had cast him aside, an insignificant pawn in their eternal game. He had seen the champions of these gods—beings with powers that dwarfed everything he had known—destroy his home without remorse. Kael, in the face of such devastation, could only stare, helpless and alone.

But it wasn't the loss that ignited something in Kael—it was the realization that he was powerless. The gods didn't care about him or anyone like him. They saw mortals as little more than ants to be crushed beneath their feet, subjects to a fate that could not be escaped. It was then that Kael vowed to never let himself be enslaved by the whims of fate, gods, or anyone else again. He would carve his own path.

From that day forward, Kael trained, pushed his body beyond its limits, and fought against everything that tried to keep him down. He learned to harness his willpower, the only thing that seemed truly his, the one thing that the gods couldn't control. With every battle, every challenge, his strength grew. And with every battle, his hatred for the gods—those who had caused so much suffering—burned brighter.

He realized something crucial: if he could not bend fate to his will, he would destroy it. And if the gods stood in his way, then he would face them too.The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, everything goes silent, as though the world itself is holding its breath.

I glance around, trying to steady myself. The landscape before me is eerily familiar—the small town of Persia, with its worn cobblestone streets and modest homes. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the ground. It's peaceful here. Too peaceful.

I stagger to my feet, feeling the weight of the battle that has just unfolded in my mind, even though my body is in the exact same state as when I first started my journey. My sword, once heavy with the wear of countless fights, feels strangely light in my hand, like it has never seen a single clash. My muscles, once worn and aching from the fight with the Hero and the cosmic entity, are now fresh, free of pain.

But something is wrong.

I turn my gaze toward the figure I saw in the distance. The younger me, standing in the middle of the street, a mere shadow of the person I've become. I recognize him instantly—the stubborn, naive Kael who still thought the world was just as it appeared, before the gods shattered everything he knew.

He doesn't see me. He couldn't possibly. This version of me is still wrapped in the veil of his innocence, unaware of the trials he will face or the fate that will eventually bind him.

I take a step forward, my breath hitching as the weight of the situation presses down on me. Time has reset, yes. But it's not just my past that has returned—it's the moment of choice. The moment where my path began. Where fate had me on the edge of its line, ready to pull me into a future of submission.

"No…" I whisper, staring at my past self, a rage I thought long buried rising within me. "I won't let this happen again."

I start to move, my body on autopilot, but my mind is already years ahead. The Hero's words echo in my head: Prove it. Fight the entire world and win.

I know what I need to do now.

I can't let this version of me make the same mistakes. I can't let fate drag me down again. I'm not the naive child I once was. I've fought, bled, and lost everything. And I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that I won't be shackled by fate this time.

As I draw closer to the younger Kael, I feel a strange sense of déjà vu. The air is heavy with the echoes of everything that has yet to come. The battle with the Hero, the construct, the cosmic entity… They are still waiting for me, out there, somewhere in the future. But for now, all I have is the present.

I'm not sure how this is possible. I don't know why time has reset, or if I've been sent back to change my fate, or to face something else entirely. But I do know one thing.

I will break the cycle.

I will forge a new path.

And this time, I'll do it on my terms.

The younger Kael looks up at me, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, as if he senses something is different. But the confusion quickly fades, and he goes back to his daily routine, unaware of the impending change.

And I stand there, watching him, my heart heavy with the weight of everything that has yet to unfold. This is the beginning. Again.

But this time… I will be ready.I stand there for a moment longer, watching my younger self go about his day. The sun begins its slow descent behind the hills, casting a golden hue across the rooftops of Persia. The streets are alive with activity—people going about their business, children playing in the dirt, families gathering around simple wooden tables outside homes. It all feels so ordinary, so peaceful. But it's a peace I now know will be shattered, a peace I never truly appreciated before.

I feel a sense of detachment as I watch the life of the town unfold before me, as though I'm an outsider looking in on a world that no longer belongs to me. This is where my journey started, where I once believed in the hope of change, of a future untouched by the gods and their games. But now, that hope feels hollow.

I shake my head, clearing away the lingering doubts. I'm not the same person I was. I can't afford to be.

I turn away from the scene, walking past the familiar market square where vendors shout to one another, offering their wares. The smell of freshly baked bread and roasting meat fills the air, tempting my senses, but I push the hunger aside. There's no time for indulgence. Not anymore.

My feet take me towards the outskirts of the town, where the open fields stretch out into the distance. The same place I trained for the first time. The same place I made the choice to leave. I stop at the familiar old tree—its twisted branches hanging low, providing me with shade from the afternoon heat. It's where I once thought I'd finally found peace, away from the chaos of the gods' conflict.

But it was never peace. Not really.

I grip the hilt of my sword tightly, eyes narrowing as I look out over the fields. The air feels different now—charged, as if the world itself is holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. The faintest whisper of a distant storm reaches my ears.

I don't know what's happening. I don't know if I've been sent here to relive my past, or if this is some kind of twisted test, but I won't wait for fate to decide my future again.

I won't fall into the same trap.

And I won't allow the gods to control me any longer.

A flash of movement catches my eye. The younger Kael is walking down the road, heading toward the town's outskirts. His posture is the same as I remember, straight-backed and filled with an innocence I now know will be shattered. I can almost hear the words that will come from his mouth—the same words I spoke all those years ago.

"Don't go."

I step forward, my footfalls soft on the dirt path. I'll make him see. I'll make him understand. I can't let him fall into the same mistakes I made, let alone the path the gods intended for him. I know what's coming. I know what awaits him. But I'll change it.

As I close the distance between us, he looks up, his eyes locking with mine. There's a flicker of recognition. Not the kind of recognition I'd hoped for, but one of confusion and curiosity.

"Who are you?" he asks, his voice soft, filled with the same uncertainty I once felt.

For a moment, I hesitate. How do I explain this? How do I make him understand what's happening?

"Someone who's already walked this path," I say, my voice steady but low, carrying the weight of experience. "Someone who's fought against the world, against the gods themselves."

His brow furrows in confusion. "The gods?"

I can't help but smirk bitterly. "They've already made their plans for us. And you're about to walk right into them."

He takes a step back, his eyes widening. "What do you mean?"

"Your journey," I say, taking a step forward. "It's already been decided. The path you're on—it's not your own. It never was."

His gaze falters, uncertainty flickering across his face. He doesn't understand. How could he? How could anyone?

"You'll learn soon enough," I continue, my voice now tinged with a quiet anger, a deep-seated rage I can't suppress. "But know this: You don't have to walk this path. You don't have to be their pawn."

He stares at me, confusion still clouding his features. The younger Kael hasn't realized the weight of the world on his shoulders yet. But I'm here to make sure he never does.

I glance over my shoulder, the setting sun casting long shadows across the land. This moment, the one where everything began, is my opportunity. If I can change this, if I can make sure he understands, then maybe—just maybe—I'll be able to rewrite the future.

But I won't wait for him to catch up.

I turn, my resolve strengthening, and head toward the distant horizon. The journey that lies ahead will be long and grueling, but I'll face it head-on. I've been given another chance. I won't squander it.

And this time, I won't let anyone, not even fate, control me.I move through the familiar town with purpose, my thoughts clear but heavy. The weight of what I know presses on me, but I can't afford to dwell on it. There's no time for hesitation. I have a plan—a mission—and I'll see it through no matter what. The gods may have played their hand, but this time, I'll be the one pulling the strings.

As I walk, I pass through the same narrow streets, the same market stalls, the same faces. They're all so ordinary, so unaware of the storm brewing just beyond their horizon. They think they're safe, they think they're untouched by the conflict between the gods and their champions. But they're wrong. They always have been.

I stop at the outskirts of town, just before the forest edge, where the shadows of night are beginning to stretch over the land. This place… it's where I first felt the stirring of something greater within me. I was just a child then, training to protect myself from the world that would one day come crashing down.

I shake my head. That was the old me. The naive me.

I step into the forest, moving quickly but with caution. Every instinct tells me to be wary, to stay alert. I can feel the presence of something—someone—watching me from deeper within. It's subtle, like a whisper in the back of my mind. But I know what it is.

I stop and raise my sword, my grip firm and ready.

"You don't have to hide," I say, my voice carrying through the trees. "I can sense you."

From the darkness between the trees, a figure steps forward. A tall, imposing figure clad in dark armor, his presence suffocating, as though the very air around him thickens. The hero's sword flickers with an otherworldly glow in his hands, a divine radiance that cuts through the shadows.

"You've changed," the figure speaks, his voice cold, clipped. It's a voice I know well, but one I never thought I'd hear again. The voice of the man who once shared the same fate as I did.

"Zarek," I mutter, feeling the name weigh heavy on my tongue.

The figure lowers his sword, his expression unreadable behind the helmet. "You've come back. I should've known. You never were the type to accept the fate they set for us."

Zarek. My former comrade. My former ally in the gods' twisted game.

His presence here is no coincidence. I know exactly why he's come. The gods, despite their claims of omnipotence, aren't the only ones who can manipulate fate. And Zarek? He's a living testament to the gods' will.

"You're here to stop me," I say, my eyes narrowing.

Zarek doesn't answer right away. Instead, he takes a step forward, his heavy boots making no sound against the earth beneath them. "You're playing a dangerous game, Kael. You think you can rewrite history, but you can't change fate. You'll only make things worse."

I scoff. "I'm not trying to change history. I'm trying to end it. The gods have had their way for long enough. I won't bow to them again."

Zarek tilts his head, a faint chuckle escaping him. "You're a fool. They gave us power. They gave us purpose. You were never meant to be free. We were made for this."

"Made?" I sneer, tightening my grip on the hilt of my sword. "You were made to be their puppet. A tool to carry out their will. I saw it firsthand. And I won't follow that path again."

The two of us stand there in silence for a moment, the tension between us palpable. I can see the conflict in Zarek's eyes, the remnants of the man I once knew, the man who believed in the gods' cause. But that man is gone now. He's just another pawn in their game, just like me. But unlike me, he doesn't want to escape.

He's too far gone.

"I won't let you destroy everything we've worked for," Zarek finally says, his voice filled with quiet determination. "The gods will strike you down. And I'll be the one to stop you."

Without warning, he lunges forward, his sword crackling with divine energy as it slices through the air. I parry his strike easily, pushing him back with a burst of raw energy. My aura flares to life, pushing the very air around me. This isn't just a battle of strength—it's a battle of will.

"You're not the same man you used to be," I say, my voice cold. "And neither am I."

Zarek swings again, faster this time, but I'm ready. My body moves with the fluidity of someone who has fought this fight a hundred times before. Every strike, every parry, is a step closer to understanding the true cost of our freedom.

"You still believe in the gods' power?" I shout, my blade meeting his again. "They don't care about us. They never did."

He doesn't answer, but his eyes burn with a fierce light, one that only someone who's fully submitted to their will can have. He's lost. And I won't let him drag me back into the darkness with him.

"You're wrong, Kael," Zarek growls, launching another strike. "You think you can fight fate, but you're just one man. You'll never win."

"We'll see about that," I snap, my sword clashing with his once more.

The fight rages on, but I know in my heart, deep down, that this confrontation is only the beginning. Zarek isn't the only one I'll face. And there are much darker forces out there—forces that would stop at nothing to keep the gods' chains around us.

But I won't stop. Not this time.

This is just the start of the war. And I won't back down until fate itself is shattered.

The clash of our swords echoes through the forest, each strike sending a ripple through the air. Zarek's divine sword crackles with energy, the very air sizzling with the power he channels from the gods themselves. His swings are precise and fast, fueled by a determination I can almost feel—a belief that what he's doing is righteous.

But I'm not the same man I was. I've fought too many battles, seen too much to be swayed by his idealism.

As Zarek's blade meets mine, sparks fly, lighting up the darkening forest around us. The trees around us shudder, their leaves falling in a gust of wind. With each swing of our swords, the ground beneath us trembles. The very earth seems to react to the sheer force of our battle. It's as if the forest itself is alive, feeling the conflict between two powerful forces.

My aura surges, a wave of raw power that courses through me, pushing me to move faster, hit harder. The air around me grows thick with energy, warping with each swing. I'm not just using my strength anymore. My will is the weapon, and it is sharpening with every passing second. The power of the gods is tangible in Zarek's sword, but it is nothing compared to the willpower I now wield.

Zarek moves again, his form blurring as he rushes toward me. His blade strikes with the force of a storm, and I barely manage to parry it. The impact sends me sliding back through the forest, my boots dragging against the ground as I struggle to hold my ground. The forest around us bends under the pressure. A nearby tree splinters as his blade crashes into the earth, the shockwave rippling outward.

The air grows heavier, charged with the violence of our battle. Trees groan under the strain, their trunks cracking, and the forest seems to quiver with each strike. The ground beneath us quakes as if the land itself is being torn apart by our confrontation.

"You can't fight this," Zarek growls, his voice filled with certainty. His movements are flawless, his strikes coming faster and faster. "You can't win against fate. Against the gods. You'll burn yourself out trying."

I'm not sure if he believes what he's saying anymore. Or if he's trying to convince himself. But there's no room for doubt in my mind. I won't let this world, this cage, control me anymore.

I'm stronger now—stronger than I ever was before.

I force myself to twist, barely dodging another of Zarek's vicious strikes. The blade cuts through the air so close I can feel the heat. I counter with a swift motion, my sword slicing through the space between us and grazing his shoulder. Zarek stumbles, momentarily thrown off balance. I push forward, my will burning hotter than before.

The earth shudders beneath my feet as I unleash a powerful slash. The force of my strike sends a shockwave through the ground, and the surrounding trees creak and groan, some of them snapping like twigs. A massive tree nearby, caught in the aftershock, splinters into pieces, the shards of its trunk scattering across the forest floor.

Zarek stumbles back, barely managing to regain his footing. His eyes, usually filled with conviction, flicker with a brief moment of doubt. But he doesn't show it. He grits his teeth, lifting his sword again, and with a roar, he charges.

The next clash is deafening.

Our blades meet with a thunderous crash, the impact sending ripples through the air that shake the very leaves from the trees above us. The force sends a shockwave through the ground, and the earth cracks beneath our feet. Dust and debris fly up in every direction as the battle rages on, our auras colliding like storms.

The trees around us are bending, their trunks snapping as though caught in the grip of some unseen force. The ground beneath our feet starts to crumble and splinter. The power of our fight is too much for the forest to contain.

"Give up, Kael," Zarek shouts, his voice strained. "You can't win. You'll destroy everything."

"I'd rather destroy everything than let the gods keep us caged," I spit, pushing against him with every ounce of strength I have.

The forest around us is starting to give way, the land itself suffering from the intensity of our battle. Trees are splintering, rocks are being lifted into the air as the power we're wielding disrupts everything in its path. The ground trembles as if the very world itself is trying to reject us.

A massive tree behind me is ripped from the earth, uprooted by the force of my aura. It crashes to the ground with a deafening roar, sending a wave of dirt and dust into the air. The once serene forest is now an unforgiving battleground.

Zarek steps forward, his blade raised high. The power around him intensifies, and I can feel the divine energy swirling in the air. But I'm not afraid. I won't back down.

I charge at him, my sword cutting through the air with a force that seems to split the world itself. The ground beneath me cracks as my aura surges, and the air hums with the tension between us. The very trees around us seem to bend in submission as we collide once more, the final clash shaking the earth beneath us.

The world seems to stand still for a moment. The forest, the trees, the sky above, everything holds its breath.

And then, with one last devastating swing, I push through.

Zarek's sword is knocked from his hands, and he stumbles back, his knees buckling. His chest heaves with exhaustion, and his divine aura flickers weakly.

I stand over him, my sword raised, my chest heaving from the exertion. The forest around us is in ruins—fallen trees, shattered earth, and the remnants of what was once a calm, peaceful place. The damage we've caused is undeniable.

"Zarek…" I say, my voice soft but firm. "You were never meant to be a pawn in their game. You were meant to be free."

He looks up at me, his eyes filled with both defiance and regret. "And you think you can change that? You think you can change everything?"

"I can," I say, lowering my blade. "And I will."

With that, I turn and walk away, leaving the remnants of our battle behind. The forest may be destroyed, but the war is just beginning.Now I know for certain—Zarek is fully loyal to the gods. Whether he works directly under them or is part of an organization devoted to their will, it doesn't matter. He'll report everything about me. That means I won't just be dealing with this continent's church—I'll have the gods' eyes on me as well.

I sigh, shaking off the lingering exhaustion from the battle as I push forward through the dense forest. The towering trees stretch high above, their thick canopy blotting out most of the night sky. Shadows dance between the trunks, the only light coming from the faint glow of moonlight that manages to slip through the leaves.

Despite the weariness settling into my bones, I can't afford to stop. My hometown is still in danger. If the gods' champions descend upon Persia, it won't survive. I need to find a way to divert them, to keep their fight from turning it into another ruined battlefield.

I glance upward, spotting a sturdy branch high above. With a swift jump, I land on it, steadying myself as I scan my surroundings. It's been so long since I last set foot here—my memories of Persia's geography are hazy at best.

Just great.I take a deep breath, trying to piece together what I do remember. Persia is nestled between the forest and the river to the east, with the main roads leading toward the heart of the continent. If I follow the treetops west, I should reach the outskirts without running into too many people. The last thing I need is to draw attention before I figure out my next move.

The distant sound of rustling leaves puts me on edge. Something—or someone—is moving nearby. I crouch low, gripping my sword's hilt as I scan the darkness. The air is thick with tension, the forest unusually quiet. No insects, no distant calls of night creatures. Just silence.

Then, a flicker of movement.

I barely have time to react before a blur dashes toward me. Instinct takes over. I leap from the branch just as something crashes into where I stood, splintering the wood. Midair, I twist, drawing my blade in a single fluid motion.

The figure lands below, its glowing red eyes piercing through the darkness. A war construct—larger than the one I fought before, its body covered in strange runic markings pulsing with faint energy.

"Already?" I mutter, tightening my grip on my sword.

It straightens, its head tilting slightly, as if analyzing me. Then, without warning, it lunges.

I barely manage to parry, the force of its strike sending a shockwave through my arms. The branch beneath me cracks, forcing me to kick off and land on the forest floor. The construct follows, its movements eerily fluid for something made of metal and magic.

Stronger. Faster. More refined than before.

I smirk despite myself. Looks like this world isn't going to make things easy for me.

Fine.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

With a steady breath, I raise my sword.

"Let's see what you're capable of."

As I analyze the War Construct, a realization creeps in. Why is it so close to the town? These things usually only appear in desolate areas, far from civilization—places where only people like me tread. Did I lead it here? But how would it know I came back?

Before I can dwell on it, the Construct surges forward, bringing its massive blade down with crushing force. I barely sidestep in time as the impact splits the ground where I stood, deep cracks spiderwebbing outward. The sheer power behind its strike is enough to send tremors through the earth.

I exhale sharply, steadying myself. Questions can wait. First, I need to destroy this thing.

The moment my feet touch the ground, I channel aura through my body, the energy surging through my limbs like fire. In an instant, I propel myself forward, closing the gap between us in a blur. My sword ignites with a dense, red aura as I swing, aiming for its arm.

The blade connects. Sparks erupt as my attack cleaves through the Construct's metal plating, severing its arm clean off. The severed limb crashes to the ground, motionless. I don't waste a second—I prepare to strike again.

But then, something changes.

A sinister, dark aura seeps from the severed arm, pulsing violently. Before I can react, it detonates in a burst of raw energy. The explosion engulfs me, the shockwave hurling me backward like a ragdoll.

Trees shatter as I crash through them, pain jolting through my body before I'm flung high into the air. The world spins around me, the night sky blurring with the dense forest below.

Damn it.

This thing is more dangerous than I thought.

With one final burst of dark energy, my blade drives through the Construct's core, shattering it with a resounding crack. The massive frame stiffens, its glowing eyes flickering before the entire body slumps forward, lifeless.

I step back, breathing heavily, watching as its once-unyielding form crumbles. Reaching down, I pick up the fractured remnants of its core, its fading energy pulsing weakly in my hand. Without hesitation, I crush it, absorbing the last traces of power. A warm sensation spreads through my body as my wounds knit themselves back together—cuts closing, bruises fading.

But the exhaustion remains.

With a heavy exhale, I slump onto the cool grass, the damp earth pressing against my back.

"Phew…" I mutter, turning my gaze toward the distant town. Even from here, I can sense the stir of movement. The guards and swordsmen must have heard the battle—there's no way they didn't.

Not that it matters. By morning, the Construct's body will vanish, leaving no trace of the fight.

I sigh, forcing myself to sit up. My muscles protest, fatigue weighing me down like lead, but I push forward. Slowly, unsteadily, I rise to my feet, taking a step toward the forest—

And collapse.

The moment my body hits the ground, the exhaustion finally claims me, dragging me into unconsciousness.

Darkness.

It stretches endlessly, wrapping around me like a suffocating veil. I don't know how long I drift in it—seconds, minutes, hours? It doesn't matter. The exhaustion has swallowed me whole, dragging me into a restless abyss.

Then, the whispers start.

Faint at first, like distant echoes bouncing through an empty void. But they grow louder, insistent. My vision flickers, flashes of something—memories? Nightmares?—swimming at the edges of my mind.

A burning village.

Blood on my hands.

The glint of a divine blade cutting through the night.

A familiar voice, heavy with sorrow.

"Fate cannot be defied."

My eyes snap open.

The night sky looms above me, a sea of stars barely visible through the thick treetops. The scent of earth and blood clings to the air. I blink, my body protesting as I push myself upright. My limbs feel sluggish, drained. The remnants of battle still linger in my bones.

How long was I out?

I take a deep breath, scanning my surroundings. The forest is still, but the distant glow of torchlights flickers near the town's outskirts. The guards. They must have sent patrols to investigate.

I grit my teeth, forcing my aching body to move. I can't be here when they arrive. If they see me, there'll be questions—questions I don't have the patience or the energy to answer.

Pushing myself to my feet, I stagger toward the deeper part of the forest, each step a battle against my own exhaustion. But I can't afford to stop now.

Because this is just the beginning.

I force myself deeper into the forest, each step demanding more effort than the last. My body feels like dead weight, exhaustion gnawing at every fiber of my being. I need to rest—I have to. But not here, not out in the open.

I push forward, scanning my surroundings through half-lidded eyes. Then, in a small clearing, I spot it—a worn-down building, long abandoned. Vines creep along its walls, leaves scattered across the roof, and tall grass sways around its base.

Good enough.

I step inside, the wooden door groaning as I push it open. Dust hangs thick in the air, disturbed only by my presence. The floorboards creak under my weight, some split with time, with small patches of grass poking through the gaps.

With a tired groan, I lean against the wall and slide down, my body finally giving in. The silence settles around me, heavy yet comforting.

I close my eyes, just for a moment.

And before I know it, sleep takes me.

Darkness surrounds me. Not the kind of darkness that lingers in the night, but something deeper, heavier—something that presses down on my mind like a weight I can't shake.

Then come the whispers. Twisted, fragmented voices echo in the void. Some are distant, others too close, almost inside my head.

Foolish…

Reckless…

You fight against the inevitable…

I try to move, but my body won't respond. A familiar sensation—it's not the first time I've felt this. The curse. It always creeps in when I'm vulnerable, waiting for a moment of weakness to take hold.

A shape emerges in the darkness—an indistinct silhouette standing before me, its presence suffocating. Its eyes, or what I assume to be its eyes, burn like dying embers.

"You defy the gods," it says, its voice neither male nor female, but something in between. "You reject fate. And yet, you continue to fall. How long will you struggle before you break?"

I grit my teeth. "I won't break."

The entity doesn't move, but I can feel it smile.

"Everyone breaks eventually."

The darkness surges toward me, and suddenly, I'm falling—plummeting into the abyss below.

Then—

My eyes snap open.

The old building is still around me, its silence a stark contrast to whatever that was. My breath is ragged, sweat clinging to my skin.

A nightmare. No—a vision. A warning.

I press a hand to my face, exhaling slowly. The curse is growing stronger. If I don't control it, it will consume me.

But I don't have time to dwell on it.

Outside, in the distance, I hear voices. Footsteps. The town's guards, most likely. They must have heard the battle.

I can't stay here.

Shoving aside my exhaustion, I push myself up, my body protesting every movement. I need to move—before they find me.

I drag myself to the door, each step heavier than the last. As I push it open, the cool night air greets me, but it does little to clear the haze clouding my mind. I step forward—only for my legs to give out beneath me.

I hit the ground, the damp earth cool against my skin. My body refuses to move.

Would it really be so bad if they found me? Maybe they'll assume I fought the construct and barely survived. Or maybe they'll see me as a threat. A danger.

I sigh, staring up at the dark sky. The steady rhythm of approaching footsteps grows louder, the glow of lanterns cutting through the shadows.

My vision blurs, eyelids growing heavier. I try to fight it, to stay awake, but exhaustion is an enemy I can't overcome this time.

The last thing I hear is the sound of voices as figures emerge from the forest.

Then—darkness.

A dull murmur drags me from the depths of unconsciousness. My body aches—every muscle, every bone protesting even the smallest movement. My senses return sluggishly, piece by piece. The faint crackle of fire. The scent of burning wood. The indistinct voices of men speaking in hushed tones.

I force my eyes open. The light stings, but I adjust quickly. I'm lying on a makeshift cot, covered by a thin blanket. A small fire flickers a few feet away, casting shadows against the wooden walls of what seems to be a hunter's outpost.

I try to move, but the moment I shift, pain shoots through my ribs. I bite back a groan. Damn. Looks like my body didn't heal everything.

"He's awake," a voice says.

I tense. Slowly, I turn my head toward the group of men standing near the fire. They wear simple armor, reinforced leather over cloth—local guards. One of them, a man with a grizzled beard and sharp eyes, steps forward. His hand rests on the hilt of his sword, cautious but not openly hostile.

"You're lucky we found you before the wolves did," he says. "Mind telling us what the hell you were doing out there?"

I stay silent for a moment, weighing my options. Do they already suspect me of something? Or are they just curious? Either way, I need to be careful.

"I was fighting the construct," I finally say, my voice rough from exhaustion. "Didn't exactly have time to find a good place to collapse afterward."

The men exchange glances. The bearded one narrows his eyes.

"Fighting a war construct alone? That's a death sentence," he says. "Yet here you are, still breathing."

I shrug slightly, ignoring the pain. "I guess I'm just hard to kill."

The room falls silent. The tension thickens. They don't quite believe me—but they also don't know what to make of me.

"Rest for now," the bearded man finally says. "But don't think we won't have more questions later."

I don't argue. I simply lean back, closing my eyes again. I need to recover. Need to think. Because this… this is only the beginning.

I wish I had the ability to heal like those with elemental magic. It would make things a hell of a lot easier right now. But all I can do is endure.

I lay still, letting the warmth of the fire seep into my worn body. After everything, I finally have a moment to breathe—a hard-fought moment of peace.

My thoughts drift, unbidden, to memories of a time long past. I remember standing by the river with my father, watching him expertly cast his line as we fished together. I remember my mother's cooking, the scent of stir-fry filling our home on special occasions. Those moments feel distant now, like echoes of a life that belonged to someone else.

I wonder if the past version of me is sleeping soundly right now, unburdened by nightmares. Maybe he's sitting at the dinner table, talking with our parents, laughing, completely unaware of what's coming.

A thought takes root, an idea I've been avoiding.

What if I stopped it? What if I prevented the champions from destroying my town?

Would the past me still have the same dream? Would he still grow to crave freedom as I do now? Or would he remain blissfully ignorant of the world's cruelty, never needing to fight, never needing to struggle?

I let out a slow breath, my gaze flickering to the men around the fire—townsfolk, people just trying to live their lives. I think of my parents, my friends, the warmth of a life that was stolen from me.

If I stop the champions, my past self will live in comfort, unaware of what lies beyond the safety of this town. But isn't that worth it? A life without suffering, without loss?

I don't know.

But it's too late for me.

I've already stepped onto this path. I have to keep moving forward, even if it means letting everything unfold the same way it did before. Besides, I don't even know if changing things here would affect me now.

I tilt my head back, staring at the sky. The stars glimmer above, distant and untouchable, like gods watching from afar. The moon casts its glow over the clearing, bathing everything in silver light.

"This is... nice."

I watch the sky, my dark eyes reflecting the moonlight, my hair shifting gently in the night breeze. Just for a moment, I let myself exist in this fragile peace.