Papa," a young voice echoed loud in the darkness. The space was dim, not entirely black, but quiet... and vast.
He saw him—his father—standing alone, looking up at the stars. As he stepped forward, the water stirred under his feet. The ground was covered in it, still and cold.
He walked straight to him and stopped at his side.
"Nine," His father called with a straight face, he turned and looked at him, eyes meeting.
"Papa... what is this place?" Nine asked, tilting his head, curious but calm.
"The stars gave us life. And in the end... we return it," his father said, pointing up.
"Nakawaki," Nine murmured.
"Yes, child. Nakawaki. It's the door we see... when it's time to go back," he answered, a small, tired smile on his lips.
"Papa, I know the teachings. Why are you saying them again?" he asked, a little frown forming.
The man knelt on one knee, brushing the boy's hair back, then place his hand on his shoulder.
"I see that door, Nine. And it's calling me."
"You're dying?" His voice wavered. "Why? Did the stars call you? No… I don't want you to go. You can't go. You don't have my permission to."
"I'm not in the position to refuse," the man said as both eyes lock gaze. "I wanted to see you grow… but I can't anymore."
His eyes softened as he mildly continue "I can see the stairs to the door, Nine."
"No..." Nine whispered, trying to hold back the tears—but his eyes betrayed him. The tears kept coming. His chest rose and fell with each breath, shaky and breaking. The weight of this goodbye was too much.
"This is too much, Papa..." his voice was barely audible.
"Nine, don't cry. Nine is a warrior…" The man said, voice low, soothing—but the pain in his eyes gave him away.
"Not without you." Nine whispered
He swallowed hard. "I didn't teach you to be weak, protect yourself, don't forget your homeland. Protect your people. And no matter what, never forget who you are."
The man stood slowly, then turned and began to walk into the darkness. Endless and cold.
Nine stood frozen… but only for a moment. His body moved on its own—he reached out and grabbed his father's arm, his fingers trembling. His eyes begged him to stay.
"Let go, Nine..." The man voice out softly.
"No..." His voice was solid now, firm. he wasn't ready.
"This is just a dream… You have to wake up, Nine."
He turned to him, his face peaceful.
"No..."
"Wake up, Nine."
His calm expression twisted suddenly—his eyes widened in terror threatening to pull out.
"Wake up! Wake up!!!"
The man's voice echoed like thunder—loud, shaking the stillness—
***************
Nine gasped beneath the water surface, lungs burning as he broke through the water with a sharp breath. His chest heaved, eyes wide with shock. That dream—it had felt so real.
A piercing scream shattered his thoughts.
He spun around. He was in a lake, not the village. Soaked and disoriented, he trudged toward the shore, pushing herself onto dry land. His limbs were heavy, and his vision was blurry from being underwater too long. His eyes scanned the surrounding with his heart racing.
'This isn't home.'
How did I get here? he thought, blinking away the blur. The only light came from the moon, casting a silver glow on the trees and the water's surface.
Then—another scream. Louder this time. And then more, echoing through the night. Women. Children. Men.
The once peaceful night was shattered by chaos.
His heart sank. "The village!" Without hesitation, he ran toward the direction of the sound.
His steps were light as he darted through the woods,he didn't care about the sharp roots or thorns beneath his feet. he had run these woods before—this path should have led home quickly. But tonight, something felt wrong. The way stretched endlessly.
Refusing to slow down, he leapt up, grabbed the thick branch of a tree, and swung himself onto it. Now above the ground, he moved faster—jumping from branch to branch.
The closer he got, the more he could feel it.
Heat.
Something was burning.
His stomach tightened. His legs moved faster. Every instinct screamed: Run.
Something terrible had happened.
And the closer he got to the village, the more the air thickened with smoke and fear.
he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
he ran like his life—and the lives of everyone he loved—depended on it.
At last, he reached the village.
But it didn't feel like home anymore.
Screams filled the air—sharp, panicked, everywhere. The huts were burning, flames crackling wildly as smoke rose into the night sky. he froze, breath catching in his throat. It was too much—too fast. His mind couldn't keep up.
It wasn't just the fire.
Bodies were everywhere.
Some he knew—faces he sees every day—lying still, twisted on the ground. he could tell straight up they're been attacked by intruders but then he could not recognize them.
They wore strange clothes. Foreign. he couldn't tell where they were from, but he knew they didn't belong here, in Oroveth but the outside world.
His head turned as he tried to process the whole thing in his mind, and then—through the chaos—he his people, warriors still fighting. Bone knives clashing against iron and bronze weapons.
'Papa.'
The word slammed through his thought like a heartbeat.
He turned, running, forcing himself through the thick smoke and debris. He didn't stop to think. he just ran—straight to his father hut.
Getting there, the hut is partly collapsed, the doorway half-burned, ash falling like snow. he stepped inside.
And froze.
There—on the ground—was 'ONE'. He was kneeling in front of someone.
His heart knew before his eyes could accept it.
His father.
"Papa..." He whispered, voice cracking.
His father was still kneeling upright on one knee—but a sword was driven straight through his chest. Blood pooled beneath him. His eyes… were still open.
At that moment, his heart shattered. His breath hitched. His body trembled and his leg felt numb
His heartbeat grew so loud it drowned everything else he could hear.
The man had died kneeling.
Watching.
Waiting, perhaps.
Tears welled up and spilled down his face.
"ONE," he whispered, as his face was now cover with tears, veins stretched out on his forehead.