Chapter 1: Arrival of the Messenger
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Chapter 1: Arrival of the Messenger
The sky above blazed a brilliant blue—vast and cloudless. A wide, flat terrain stretched endlessly, with a breeze whispering over the land, weaving between rocky plains and silent peaks. The ground was dry and pale, like sunbaked stone, and mountains loomed on the horizon in jagged silence. Nothing stirred—not a blade of green, not a wing in the sky.
The world held its breath.
A lone figure walked forward.
His long black cloak swayed gently with each step, its dark folds rippling softly around him. A tall collar rose behind his neck and brushed the edge of his jaw, casting a partial shadow that veiled his eyes and nose, leaving only his lips and chin visible.
His pace was steady. Calm. As though he had all the time in the world.
But his eyes, half-hidden beneath black strands of hair, looked distant—lost in thoughts that belonged to another place, another time.
> "I wonder how much time has passed since then…"
He whispered the words like a memory, not expecting an answer.
And just like that, the world blurred—
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Flashback – Earth, Years Ago
The city roared with life—cars honked, people hurried along sidewalks, and a distant train rumbled past a bridge. Sunlight bounced off glass windows and shimmered on passing windshields.
A black-haired boy sat with his back to us, gaming with snacks at his side. For a moment, a black aura flickered around him, glitching like static on a corrupted screen.
The scene shifted—
A football field. A young athlete stood tall, a ball under his foot, fans roaring in the background. Lightning sparked briefly around his hair and eyes, a serious expression etched on his face.
Somewhere within all that chaos, in a quiet apartment nestled among the noise, the boy turned eighteen.
Curtains fluttered as the morning breeze slipped into his room. A soft creak came from the bed as he sat up, rubbing his eyes.
He had jet-black hair, slightly messy, and eyes as dark as the sky at midnight. His face looked tired—not from lack of sleep, but from carrying something heavier.
> "I want to restart in this life again…"
He paused.
> "Why am I even saying that? As if God would ever listen."
He laughed to himself—short, quiet, bitter.
This wasn't the first time he'd thought about it. But something about this birthday made the wish feel heavier… more real.
He stayed like that for a moment, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.
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Far away, in a place no human eyes had ever seen—
Above silver clouds that shimmered like liquid light, a figure sat on a throne of stillness. No walls. No floor. Just a vast sky made of calm and clouds. Even the throne was woven from threads of light and mist.
The figure's body was hidden—only a smile was visible. Wide, knowing, and gentle.
The clouds beneath his seat pulsed softly, glowing from within.
> The wish had been heard.
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Back on Earth…
A crow chased a sparrow midair, weaving through clotheslines and balconies. Another crow, distracted while watching the chase, didn't see the apartment ahead and crashed straight into a window—
Right as the black-haired boy closed it.
He flinched, startled, then shook his head, grabbed his bag, and stepped out of his room.
He walked downstairs.
From the kitchen, his mother called:
> "Happy Birthday, [Name]!"
The name came through faintly—almost like a glitch in the world. As if the universe itself refused to let us hear it.
> "Thanks…" he said, managing a faint smile.
He sat at the dining table and quietly ate his breakfast. His mother spoke again, but she never appeared on screen. Her voice sounded distant—like hearing someone behind a veil. Present, but untouchable.
Everything felt normal.
Too normal.
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Later, he stepped out into the city. The sunlight warmed the streets. He walked past people, cafés, and honking cars. The noise faded as his mind wandered.
He reached a zebra crossing.
Just as his foot touched the white paint—
Time stopped.
The world froze.
A car hung motionless in the middle of a turn. A bird stopped mid-flap in the air. Two others, fighting over a biscuit, were frozen just as their beaks were about to clash. A thief running from a guard was locked mid-stride. A boy proposing with red flowers stood still as petals hung in the air. A cyclist froze just before swerving.
Even the wind paused.
He blinked.
The silence was unnatural. Heavy. Pressing.
Then—he saw him.
A man appeared at the edge of the crossing, facing him.
He wore robes white as untouched snow, glowing faintly like light passing through mist. His long hair was pure white, and his eyes—brighter still—glowed with neither warmth nor cold. Only endless clarity.
He smiled.
> "Happy Birthday… [Name]."
Again, the name was swallowed by silence—as if not meant for the world to hear.
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To be continued…
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