Darkness stretched endlessly.
Vicky stood alone in a vast, silent space—neither land nor sky, neither light nor shadow. It felt like a dream, yet too vivid to be imagination. The air carried a strange pressure, gentle but overwhelming, as if something ancient was breathing around him.
His eyes slowly opened.
"…Aarna," he whispered unconsciously.
The name slipped from his lips without effort, like a memory his soul remembered even when his mind did not. He frowned, lifting his hand and pressing it against his chest.
"I remember you… a little," Vicky murmured. "Your voice… your eyes… but everything else feels broken."
The darkness trembled.
Suddenly—
A sharp pulse tore through his head.
Vicky gasped, dropping to one knee as visions began crashing into him one after another, violently and without warning.
"—Gh!"
The world around him shattered like glass.
The First Vision
A vast ocean of silver light spread beneath an endless sky.
Floating islands drifted slowly, each carved with glowing runes older than language itself. Massive seals hovered in the air, chained by divine symbols, radiating power that bent reality.
At the center of it all—
Vicky stood there.
But not as he was now.
This Vicky was different.
His presence alone made the world tremble.
His eyes were calm… detached… terrifyingly deep.
Before him, countless figures kneeled—beings of different races, forms, and energies. Some radiated divine light, others abyssal darkness, yet all bowed their heads in absolute submission.
"Master."
The word echoed.
A young woman stepped forward.
Silver hair flowed down her back like moonlight, her eyes glowing with a soft yet dangerous blue. Chains of seals wrapped around her arms, not restraining her—but protecting the world from her existence.
Aarna.
She looked at him with unwavering devotion.
"Command me," she said gently.
Vicky raised his hand slightly.
"No," he replied calmly. "You choose your own will. I only guide."
Aarna smiled.
That smile carried warmth… and sorrow.
The Second Vision
The scene shifted violently.
Flames.
Screams.
A broken sky bleeding crimson light.
Vicky stood amidst destruction, blood dripping from his fingers—not his own. His expression was colder than death itself.
Before him lay fallen gods.
Some begged.
Some cursed.
Some wept.
"You were never meant to exist," one of them screamed.
Vicky's eyes showed no anger.
"Existence does not ask for permission," he replied.
Behind him, Aarna stood trembling, her powers spiraling out of control.
"Master… if this continues, the universe will—"
"I know," Vicky interrupted softly.
He turned to her and placed his hand on her forehead.
"I will seal myself."
Aarna's eyes widened.
"No—!"
"This world cannot survive me as I am," he continued. "And neither can you."
Tears streamed down Aarna's face.
"I don't care about the world," she cried. "I care about you!"
For the first time—
Vicky smiled sadly.
"That," he said, "is exactly why you must forget me."
The Third Vision
Darkness returned—but this time, it was heavy.
Vicky lay suspended within countless layers of seals, each one glowing with paradoxical energy. Symbols of time, causality, void, and existence wrapped around him like chains.
Aarna stood outside the seals.
Her powers were sealed.
Her memories were fractured.
Yet she stayed.
For ages.
For eras.
For lifetimes.
"I'll wait," she whispered, resting her forehead against the barrier. "Even if you forget me… I won't forget you."
The seals activated.
Light exploded.
Everything vanished.
Back to the Present
Vicky screamed.
"—Ahhh!"
His eyes snapped open.
He sat up abruptly, breathing heavily, sweat soaking his clothes. His heart pounded like it was trying to escape his chest.
"…So that's why," he whispered hoarsely.
His hands trembled.
"Why my power feels… incomplete."
Why existence reacts to him.
Why seals feel familiar instead of threatening.
Outside the room, faint moonlight slipped through the window.
And then—
A gentle presence.
Vicky felt it before he saw it.
Aarna sat beside the bed, hugging her knees, watching him quietly. Her expression was soft, but her eyes carried something deep… ancient.
"You were dreaming again," she said softly.
Vicky looked at her.
His chest tightened.
"…Aarna," he said slowly. "We've known each other before… haven't we?"
She froze.
For a fraction of a second, something flickered across her face—pain, longing, fear.
Then she smiled brightly, forcing cheer into her voice.
"Maybe," she said lightly. "Or maybe you're just bad at remembering people."
She leaned forward and poked his forehead.
"Your head's still sealed, Master."
Vicky exhaled slowly.
"…I saw you crying," he said quietly. "In my dream."
Her hand stopped.
The room fell silent.
Aarna looked away.
"…Dreams are stupid," she muttered.
But her fingers clenched the bedsheet tightly.
Elsewhere — Beyond Reality
In a place where time did not flow normally, four figures sat around a circular platform of floating symbols.
Each of them radiated a terrifying presence.
Paradox-level beings.
Observers of existence.
One of them spoke, their voice layered with countless echoes.
"The seals are weakening."
Another figure leaned forward.
"That boy… Vicky. His presence is re-emerging."
A third narrowed their glowing eyes.
"He disrupted ancient balances. Even sealed, he bends causality."
The final figure stood.
"We can no longer ignore him."
Silence fell.
"…We must learn the truth," the figure continued coldly. "Who is he truly?"
"And what," another added, "is his existence?"
The symbols around them glowed ominously.
Far away—
Vicky felt a sudden chill run down his spine.
Unaware that eyes beyond reality had finally turned toward him.
And that his forgotten past was beginning to awaken.