He never believed in an afterlife.
The priests of his world spoke often of it—of sacred lands beyond death, of eternal service to their gods, of paradise and divine judgment. They longed for it, prayed for it, devoted their lives in pursuit of it.
He had always thought it nonsense.
And in the end, he was right.
There was no heaven. No hell. No golden halls or burning pits. Only darkness. Still, silent, empty.
But he liked it this way.
He didn't wish to be reborn.
He, who had lived barely twenty years, had no desire to start again. He was tired. Tired of living, of fighting, tired of everything. He only wanted to remain here… in this silent, empty abyss.
And so he floated—motionless.
His thoughts, once vivid, began to dissolve. Even the whispers of his subconscious were fading, blurring into noise without meaning. He could no longer think, no longer understand what his mind tried to show him.
Perhaps that's why it came.
That memory.
The one he didn't want to see. The one he didn't want to remember.
But it was all that remained.
There were no more thoughts, no more reason. Just that one scene… playing endlessly before his fading consciousness.
He stood in a world of green.
The sky above was endless and blue, the wind gentle, rustling through soft meadows. The trees swayed. Flowers bloomed. The world pulsed with life.
It was beautiful.
A world he had never known in life. A world untouched by war, by blood, by ambition. A world painted in peace.
A world he once wished for.
The life he once desired.
The happiness he once longed for.
And that happiness… formed a shape.
At first, it was only a blur—soft, delicate. Then it took form.
A girl.
Small, fragile.
She ran through the grass, calling out to him. Her white hair danced in the breeze, her blue eyes shimmering like the clearest lake.
He couldn't hear her voice, not truly, but he knew she was calling his name.
He stood there, frozen.
As she drew near, he took a step back. Panic stirred in his hollow chest.
'Don't come closer...'
'Please... don't come close to me...'
He tried to retreat—but his body would not move.
And then, she was there, standing before him. Her hands reached up, delicate and small, placing something on his head.
He wanted to cry out—to tell her to run, to escape, to leave him.
'Run away from me...'
'Get away...'
But he had no voice. No mouth.
He could only watch.
The girl tilted her head, a soft giggle escaping her lips. It rang like a bell, light and innocent, and something inside him cracked.
She smiled as she pointed.
"Look! You look just like a king!"
In the mirror she held before him, he saw his reflection.
A child. White hair. Soft, black eyes. A crown made of wildflowers rested atop his head—woven by her tiny hands.
But what struck him was not the crown.
It was the tears.
He was crying.
And she saw it too.
"Hey... why are you crying?"
Her voice trembled.
She reached out, small fingers trying to wipe his tears, her eyes wide with concern.
He flinched.
He felt revulsion—not at her, but at himself.
Closing his eyes, he mumbled from somewhere deep inside his mind:
'Don't touch me...'
'Please... run before it's too late...'
But her hand never reached him.
He never felt her warmth.
When he opened his eyes again—
Thump.
There was blood.
Her body lay crumpled before him.
Her head had rolled to his feet—lifeless eyes staring upward, unblinking.
He tried to step back.
But he couldn't move.
He was forced to watch.
Forced to see it all.
'Jennifer!!'
He tried to scream her name.
But no sound came.
The darkness surged once more, thick and hungry, swallowing the scene.
The memory—the last one he clung to—was being devoured.
His happiness was being erased.
Badump. Badump.
His heart pounded.
His heart—
Strange.
Wasn't he dead?
How could it beat?
But he had no time to think about it...
The green world around him began to fracture.
Cracks split through the sky.
The girl lifeless blood started to slowly disappear. Her clean-cut neck also started to crack. it become blurry disappearing slowly.
He reached for her, desperate to hold her again—
But he couldn't move.
He had never felt such despair.
Such powerlessness.
No matter how much he willed it—he could do nothing.
'Never felt Such powerlessness before... What a joke'
'Wasn't it always like this...?'
In the final collapse of his mind, just as everything began to fall apart—
He heard a voice.
Soft. Gentle. Like the chime of wind through leaves.
"I'm waiting…"
What?
His thoughts stirred.
Who said that?
It was a child's voice—sweet and melodic.
He had never heard it before. And yet—
It felt familiar.
Like he heard it before.
And Not just once or twice.
But many times.
He couldn't name the feeling.
He didn't know who the voice belonged to.
But the ache it brought was the same one he'd felt…
When her lifeless head fell at his feet.
Badump. Badump.
His heart thundered.
Then the voice came again—clearer, closer:
"Even if it takes eternity... I'll wait. I'll always stay by your side."
He heard it.
He wanted to hear it again.
The darkness stirred—
No, it resisted.
As if fighting the voice.
It fought back.
And through that battle, a golden light appeared before him.
It was blinding—though he had no eyes to see.
The light moved toward him, brightening the broken world.
Jennifer's lifeless form returned to life.
She laughed again, weaving flowers into a crown.
The sky turned green once more.
The trees whispered peace.
But that golden light remained—watching.
As though it sought to give him joy again.
Then the voice came, one final time:
"So take your time… and come back to me, My Pa—"
But before the words could finish—
FLASH.
The light burst outward, wrapping around him.
It encased the darkness, consuming it.
And just as he was about to disappear—
He was taken.
Lifted.
Pulled out of the void.
And once more, the darkness was still.
All that remained in that eternal black…
Was a beautiful green world—
And a little girl, humming softly, as she made a crown of flowers.