Matías Castleboard's POV
What meaning did my death have?
One of the few questions that echoed in my mind as I faded into unconsciousness was the purpose behind everything I had done.
I searched for a clear answer, but all I found was a cruel phrase repeating itself: it was all for nothing…
Even though I knew what it felt like to believe your entire life was garbage without a happy ending, the pain was no longer mine. I couldn't feel it anymore. But there was no peace either. Only thoughts clinging to my failures.
I can't see anything, I whispered inside my own mind. Where am I? Ah, right. I died.
In that moment, the only thing I wished for was silence to fill the place. I just wanted to rest… after so long begging for a peace that had always been a lie.
Some say that when you die, you see a light.
I see nothing.
It was as if my consciousness floated alone in an endless abyss. No body. No shape. If this could even be called consciousness…
All I could do was think. And that was exactly what I did: think about how everything ended like this.
First, tranquility shattered. A fragile truth everyone ignored collapsed, and no one was prepared for what came next. They knew it was the end when the stars were replaced by missiles ripping pieces out of the sky.
The sound of trumpets announced the war. A bitter melody describing a pain just beginning for a generation raised beside death itself.
If Oppenheimer was right about anything, it was in saying that the Fourth World War would be fought with sticks and stones… because we would have destroyed the future and dragged ourselves back into the past.
From there, everything fell apart. Because humans are like that: so intelligent… and yet so painfully naive.
The Prophet… that bastard. He didn't have a transmitter that made him immortal, nor one capable of bending reality. In truth, he had no transmitter at all. He just manipulated us.
Manipulate.
That word weighs heavily. Because I… I wasn't any better than him. I did the same. I did it out of convenience. To protect my own, just as I promised my father.
How many lives did I have to take before realizing the damage I was causing?
I still remember that family. They begged me for mercy.
Their children's eyes were shining with tears. The mother looked at me with resignation… and even then, she never looked at me with hatred.
I… was just following orders.
Shit!
I don't know when it happened. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice I had begun to cry.
That was when I saw my own tears… and for the first time since my death, I also saw my body. A faint, soft, almost ethereal glow began forming around me, as if revealing a truth I had never dared to accept.
Well… looks like there really is a light at the end of the tunnel, I murmured, feeling my lips move, as if my voice was remembering how to exist.
My hands were the first to appear. No longer stained with blood, but clean… as if the weight of all the souls I carried had vanished. As if, in this place, I had been forgiven.
Then my legs appeared: firm, strong, ready to keep walking.
And then I knew. I was returning. Not to life… but to something. Something beyond my understanding. All I knew was that I wanted to be free.
When I finally became aware of my surroundings, my mind erupted with questions. Everything was white. Peaceful.
Butterflies danced through the air, a bright sun shone without burning, and a soft tranquility wrapped around me like a warm blanket, reminding me of childhood.
There was no noise. No war. Only… silence.
Is this heaven or limbo? I asked the empty space, waiting for an answer I suspected might never come. Where am I supposed to be?
"This isn't heaven, Matías. Nor limbo. And honestly… I doubt you deserve either."
A voice rose behind me. Imposing. Deep. Filled with a power that made me turn immediately, instinctively taking a defensive stance—even though I had no reason to fight, not anymore.
When I looked, I found a humanoid figure. He dressed like an ancient warrior, but what unsettled me most was that his body, his clothes, even his aura… everything about him was white.
Not white like light.
White like emptiness. Like silence.
A strange feeling of familiarity arose within me so intensely that my arms dropped on their own, as if my body recognized someone... who had always been there. Who, for some inexplicable reason, invited me to embrace him.
My soul was shattered. My voice escaped as nothing more than a whisper:
"Who are you?"
The figure studied me for several seconds, his gaze so deep it felt as though it pierced through the entire fabric of my life. Then he spoke, with a serene voice carrying undeniable authority.
"My name is Kraidir. Welcome to the Void: the beginning and end of all creation."
The Void.
My mind twisted trying to grasp it. This makes no sense, I thought.
Perhaps it was because I had already died... and, in my ignorance, I believed that when I died I would go to a different place. But this... this was nothing like what I believed.
If my deduction was right, I was standing before something far beyond human.
A deity? A different kind from the others?
And if he really was one… what did he want from me?
I cleared my throat. I spoke cautiously, choosing every word as if it could cost me eternity itself.
"From your appearance… and your words," I said slowly, "I'm guessing you're not human. And if our old beliefs hold any truth… I would dare say you're a deity."
He smiled.
But it wasn't a divine, unreachable smile… it was human. Warm. Almost paternal. More human than many I'd seen in life.
"In part, you're correct," he replied calmly. "I am what mortals call a deity. And I know you have many questions—about where you are, why you're here, and what comes next."
"As I told you before… you're in the Void," he continued with an omniscient tone, stepping closer. "Think of it as a transition toward something greater."
I didn't know why, but I started trembling.
It wasn't fear. It wasn't cold.
It was something deeper. A visceral reaction I couldn't begin to explain. I tried to speak, to say something—anything—but the words drowned in my throat.
When he stopped right in front of me, his expression shifted. No longer that of an impassive god.
It became compassionate. As if he understood every ounce of pain I carried. As if he could see the torment of a life I never asked for.
"Matías… I'm here for one reason. And that reason… is you."
I felt a deep sense of calm having him close to me. It felt like all those years of suffering, all those internal cries begging for it to end... had finally come to an end. Or so I thought... until that damn name formed on his lips.
Dextrina.
That goddess.
A flash of rage shot through me. My lone eye tightened with fury, and before I knew it, my hand lunged for his neck.
"You know Dextrina?! Answer me!" I roared, squeezing with all my strength. But no matter how much force I used… he didn't show pain, nor resistance.
He simply sighed.
His calmness intimidated me more than any threat. Then, with a gentle movement, he brushed my arm aside as if it were nothing.
"Yes. I know her," he said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "She was the one who sent me here. And with that, the question of why you're in this place is answered."
He snapped his fingers.
A chair materialized out of thin air, carved in an ancient, elegant style. He gestured for me to sit.
Whatever was coming… it was clearly a long story.
Dextrina.
The goddess who gave me the transmitter.
The goddess of time and history. The one who promised that, with that power, I could protect everyone, but who, in the end… only brought more suffering.
I took a deep breath— I wanted to listen, to understand. So I slumped into the chair, exhausted.
I took a deep breath—I wanted to listen, to understand. So I dropped onto the chair, exhausted.
"Speak. I won't interrupt," I muttered, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands.
Kraidir nodded with solemnity.
"As I told you… Dextrina sent me, Matías," he said gravely. "Your future is uncertain. Not even the gods fully understand what you are."
I lifted my gaze, frowning before asking,
"What do you mean they don't know what I am?"
Kraidir looked me straight in the eyes.
"Because you did something no one was ever meant to do," he continued, his expression stern. "You altered the destiny of your world. You achieved peace… when it wasn't written to happen."
"So what you're telling me is that… my actions did something the gods didn't approve of? Or simply… didn't find entertaining?" I clenched my fists, trembling with anger.
I knew what gods were.
False saviors.
Kraidir nodded, watching me as if he expected me to explode.
"If you want to take it that way… you're not wrong," he replied, pushing the limits of my patience and sanity.
I laughed.
But it wasn't a normal laugh.
It was hollow, broken… an echo of everything I had lost. I laughed like a madman, like someone who no longer had anything left to lose.
Then I kicked the chair violently. I watched it vanish as if it had never existed, as if it had always been an illusion.
"So the gods think humanity is a game, huh?!" I shouted, losing control. "Fine… now they'll see what it means to play for real!"
Without thinking, my eye bled, and the Calur—my transmitter—activated purely on instinct.
Kraidir didn't move. Not a single muscle.
"You'd better deactivate your relic, Matías," he said calmly. "It's useless here. And even less… against me. In this place, you have no power."
I gritted my teeth. Rage gnawed at me from the inside. But I knew… There was nothing I could do.
Nothing except talk. Shout. Curse.
"And what are the gods going to do? Kill me again?" I snarled, eyes blazing. "As if I cared! If you know Dextrina… then you must know this—
I've got nothing left!"
I pointed at him, as if he were the one to blame for everything.
But deep down, I knew he wasn't.
Kraidir looked at me with a sorrow that wasn't pity. It felt as though he truly knew me, as though he could see into the fragile core of my soul.
My legs gave out. I collapsed to the floor, feeling the dull impact against the ethereal substance surrounding this place.
Lying on my back, lost in a place that was no place. With no one. Without dreams. Without direction.
"The gods… have made a decision about you," he said softly.
I wanted to ignore him, to throw a childish tantrum, but… something inside me knew whatever he was about to say mattered.
"And what… what did they decide?" I asked, drained.
Kraidir knelt beside me. He rested one knee on the ground and extended a hand toward me, never breaking eye contact.
"You're going to be reborn, Matías," he said, igniting a spark deep within my soul. "You'll have a second chance."
My eyes snapped open in disbelief.
"Wait… what did you just say?" I shot upright immediately. "A second chance?"
He nodded.
But this time… I couldn't read his face.
He no longer looked like the same being. It was as if a mask had covered his expression.
All I had done in my past life was fight. Protect those I loved. Seek that freedom every human longs for…
And now destiny placed this in front of me:
A new opportunity. Maybe… a better life.
I lifted my head to find Kraidir again, but he was gone. He had vanished… as if he had never been there.
Once again… I was alone.
My mind tried to convince me it had all been a hallucination. Tried to disguise the image of Kraidir as a projection, a dream, something my shattered soul invented to cling to.
But deep down… in the deepest part of my heart, I knew the truth.
I knew it was all real. And that his words… were real too.
Without realizing it, exhaustion overtook me. I felt weak again, a deep, ancient fatigue rising from somewhere within my soul, covering my entire body like an inevitable blanket.
My eyes closed slowly.
But this time… not thinking of the end, but of a beginning. It felt strange. Yet after so long, I felt something I thought was lost:
Hope.
Everything went dark again. And my consciousness collapsed. I fell asleep… drifting in a space beyond existence itself. As if I had never existed at all.