The sword pierced my chest before I even realized I had been betrayed.
Not by an enemy.
Not by a demon.
By the man who once swore to protect my back.
The battlefield was already silent. Ash drifted through the ruined capital like falling snow, covering corpses, broken banners, and shattered dreams. I could barely hear anything anymore—only the ringing in my ears and the sound of my own heartbeat slowing down.
"So this is how it ends…" I whispered.
The cursed blade in my hand trembled violently, as if screaming in rage. Black cracks spread across its surface, leaking a dark aura that twisted the air itself. It wanted blood. More blood. But my body no longer obeyed me.
"Kai," a calm voice said behind me. "Your existence is too dangerous."
I turned my head with difficulty.
He stood there—smiling.
The hero.
The savior of humanity.
My closest ally.
"You used me," I said softly.
He didn't deny it.
"The war is over," he replied. "And you're no longer needed."
The sword twisted deeper.
Pain exploded through my chest, but worse than the pain was the realization—everything I had fought for, everyone I had protected… had decided I was the final enemy.
My vision darkened.
If I could do it again…
I wouldn't be a hero.
Darkness swallowed me whole.
Then—
💥 THUD!
I gasped for air.
My eyes flew open as I sucked in a sharp breath, my lungs burning like they had never been used before. The smell of dust and old wood filled my nose. My heart was racing—too fast, too strong.
I wasn't dead.
"…What?" I muttered.
I slowly sat up, staring at my hands.
They were smaller.
Younger.
Unscarred.
My surroundings snapped into focus: a cramped, broken-down room, cracked walls, a single window letting in weak morning light. A place I knew all too well.
"No way…" My voice trembled.
I rushed to the cracked mirror hanging on the wall.
A boy stared back at me—messy black hair, sharp but exhausted eyes, and a thin body that hadn't yet been hardened by war.
Sixteen years old.
"This is…" My breath caught. "My old body."
Memories flooded my mind like a storm.
The slums.
The hunger.
The academy entrance exam that decided everything.
The date burned itself into my thoughts.
"This is five years before the war."
I clenched my fists.
I had been given another chance.
Suddenly—
CRACK.
A cold, familiar presence stirred deep within me.
My blood ran cold.
"No… it can't be."
From the shadows beneath my bed, something moved.
A black sword—wrapped in broken chains—slowly emerged, its surface pulsing like a living heart.
The cursed blade.
It whispered inside my mind.
"You have returned."
I stared at it, fear and excitement colliding in my chest.
"So you came back with me too…" I said quietly.
This time, things would be different.
I smiled—slow, cold, and dangerous.
"If the world wants a monster," I whispered, gripping the sword,
"then I won't hold back anymore."
The blade pulsed.
And somewhere far above, unseen gods began to watch.