[A/n: I thought I posted this chapters days ago. Lol, my bad]
David ignored the stream, the comments, and everything else, letting the noise fade into the background as he sank deeper into his chair. Within moments, sleep took him… though maybe it was because the memories had stirred something in him. His dreams carried him back to the past.
"Daddy, why didn't you become a rock star? Mommy said that was your dream." David paused at Sarah's innocent question. He was sitting beside her, tucking the blanket around her small frame after singing her favorite bedtime song. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of her nightlight, and her sleepy eyes still managed to hold that endless curiosity only a child could have.
"Well… because I had something worth far more valuable to me than fame or wealth. I threw it all away the moment I found out your mother was pregnant," David said softly, his voice carrying that quiet warmth only a father could have. "A few months later, we got married, and not too long after, I was blessed with the most priceless thing in my life."
Sarah tilted her head, her small face scrunching up in confusion. "What was that?"
"Of course, you," David said with a heartfelt smile. "The day you were born was the happiest day of my life."
Sarah's eyes brightened, her tiny laugh filling the room, pure and innocent. David chuckled along, brushing her hair gently from her face, savoring a moment that felt timeless.
"Mommy said you fainted," she said with a giggle, leaving David coughing awkwardly at her words. His face turned slightly red, and that only made Sarah laugh harder.
David couldn't help but smile lightly at her laughter. He leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead before standing up to leave, hopefully, to make her a little brother or sister, as she always asked.
When David's eyes opened again, he was alone. The warmth of that memory faded, replaced by the quiet of his empty house. Beneath the blindfold, his eyes widened faintly, the sting of tears forming before he could stop them. He took a slow breath, exhaling softly, and got to his feet.
Wanting something to distract himself, David headed to the store and bought a few things to help him record music. That day, the world got to hear the songs from his past life—melodies no one had ever known, though everyone assumed they were his own creations built up over the years. With a voice that needed no auto-tune, one capable of shifting tone and texture to mimic any sound, his music came out flawless… raw, emotional, and hauntingly beautiful.
The next day, David stepped back into the world, ready to stop whatever crimes he could find. Tracking criminals wasn't difficult for him—he could sense killing intent and malice from over five thousand miles away. With his blindfold on, his range was already terrifying, but once it came off and he infused his senses with curse energy, he could extend that awareness across the entire planet.
"You stupid piece of shit!" a man roared, his voice trembling with rage. He stood over his six-year-old son, the veins in his neck bulging as he raised his hand. For a brief moment, he stopped himself—he couldn't hit the boy's face, not where the marks would show. Instead, he turned and kicked the child square in the stomach. The boy gasped and crumpled to his knees, sobbing as pain twisted his small frame.
"I told you to get an A! What is this?" the man roared, shaking the crumpled test paper in his hand. The score—a single red C—seemed to enrage him more than anything.
"I'm sorry…" the boy whispered, his voice barely audible through trembling lips. His apology only fueled the man's anger further. He pulled his leg back, ready to kick the child again, but his leg froze mid-swing, unable to move forward. Confused, he frowned and tried to pull it back, only to hear the quiet sound of a refrigerator door opening behind him.
Turning around, he saw David standing there, casually rummaging through the fridge. Without a word, David grabbed a pack of beer, glanced at it for a second, then tossed the entire pack straight into the trash.
"You're pretty tough, huh? Beating on your own son like that…" David said calmly, grabbing a soda can from the fridge as if he owned the place. He cracked it open, took a slow sip, and looked at the man with a faint, mocking smile. "I'm curious—would you still have the same guts standing in front of me?"
The man's face drained of all color the moment their eyes met, and he instinctively took a step back. "Y-you're trespassing!" he stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of fear.
David smirked at his words as he walked forward. The man backed away in panic, fumbling until his heel caught on an empty beer can. He slipped, crashing hard onto the floor, his trembling hands trying to push himself back as David's shadow loomed over him.
"Oh? And who's going to do anything about it?" David asked, his tone casual yet carrying an unmistakable weight. He stood over the fallen man, the soda can still in hand, his calmness far more terrifying than anger could ever be.
The man opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out—his throat felt dry, his courage gone.
"Children aren't yours to abuse," David said evenly. "Last I checked, neither you nor I ever asked to be born. So why do people like you forget that simple truth?" He crouched slightly, his gaze locking onto the man's terrified eyes. "Kids are blessings, not property. They owe you nothing."
The man could only stare up at him, frozen and pale, too frightened to even breathe, let alone respond.
"You alright, kid?" David asked, ignoring the man completely as he turned his attention to the boy. The child nodded timidly, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. David smiled faintly and helped him to his feet, his tone softening.
"You got a C in reading? That's pretty impressive," David said, brushing some dust off the boy's shirt. "When I was your age, I could barely read. I hated there, their, and they're." He gave a small laugh, shaking his head at the memory. "Pretty sure I got a D in English."
The boy blinked in surprise, his fear momentarily forgotten. He had never imagined that someone like David—the same man who shook the planet many times over had once done worse than him in school.
"Shocking, right? It was just so confusing," David said with a small laugh.
"To, too, two. Your, you're. Its, it's. Like, how do people remember all those rules that change? Total pain." He waved it off and smiled down at the boy. "But enough about boring school stuff. You wanna fly?"
The boy's eyes went wide, his mouth opening slightly in disbelief before he nodded eagerly. David grinned and held out his palm. A soft green aura of willpower wrapped around the boy's small frame, lifting him gently off the ground. The kid gasped, staring at his glowing hands in wonder before realizing—he could actually move on his own. With just a thought, he soared upward, spinning in excitement.
"Go outside and enjoy flying. I'll come get you when I'm done talking to your father, alright?" David said with an easy smile. The boy nodded quickly, his excitement spilling over as he bolted toward the door. A moment later, his laughter echoed through the air outside as he soared higher and higher, shouting in pure joy.
David's smile faded as he turned back toward the man on the floor. His arm lowered, being relaxed until it looked like a whip, his expression calm as he faced the trembling father who hadn't dared to move.
"I… I'm sorry," the man stammered, his voice cracking in terror. He could already sense the shift in David's presence; the warmth from moments ago was gone, replaced by something cold and unyielding.
Without a word, David's arm moved. The slap came like a thunderclap. Flesh tore instantly as the man's scream filled the house, his body collapsing to the floor in agony. He writhed helplessly, his hands clutching his ruined face, twisting and flailing like a fish thrown onto dry land.
"What's so hard about not being a piece of shit?" David's voice cut through the silence like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. "You have some power, some authority over someone smaller and weaker than you, and all of a sudden it's okay to beat on your own children? To hurt the people who depend on you?"
His foot came down hard on the man's stomach, driving the air from his lungs in a violent rush. The impact left the man gasping, his body desperate to move, to defend itself, to do anything at all, but all he could manage was to lie there trembling, staring up at David, whose eyes burned with barely contained fury.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating, until finally the man found enough breath to speak. "I'm sorry," he wheezed, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "I promise you, I swear I will do better. I'll change, I'll—"