John could not understand it with his own eyes, nor with his other senses. Before him stretched a road paved with shiny black asphalt. Several cars glided along it with impeccable fluidity: buses packed with passengers, gleaming Toyotas , sports cars that roared like tamed beasts, and motorcycles that weaved between trails with wild agility.
On the wide, clean sidewalks, crowds walked in alternative ways . Men, women and children were dressed in modern fabrics, vibrant colors and shoes that shone in the artificial city lights. Majestic skyscrapers rose into the sky, decorating the district like monuments to a prosperous civilization. Digital panels on the buildings broadcast news, weather reports and advertisements in pulsating colors.
There were street vendors selling newspapers, snacks, and technological gadgets. Life was pulsating in every corner, so intense that petty theft and pushing became common, as part of the chaotic ballet of urban existence.
John muttered in disbelief as his eyes took in the grandeur of the scene:
— New York …
His heart raced. As a Level 1 Primary being, his speed was superhuman. In the blink of an eye, he crossed entire districts until he reached his old apartment. Anxiously, he pressed the elevator buttons, selecting floor 199. But time seemed to be working against him—the elevator was taking a long time to arrive.
Impatient, he threw himself up the stairs. Step after step, driven by adrenaline and a feeling that mixed longing and despair, he finally reached the desired path.
He questioned the digital sensor on the door. The soft click of the door opening seemed almost like a miracle. He entered the apartment with his chest heaving and his eyes filled with tears.
There, sitting expectantly on the couch, was his sister, Delphi. The remote control twirled lazily between her fingers as she flipped through the channels. John stopped in the doorway of the living room. Emotion choked him.
— Delfi … I'm back!
He reached for her, as he had always done in the old days—the instinctive gesture of a brother finding a lost piece of himself. But then…his face froze.
His arms passed through her body as if they were made of mist. His fingers touched nothing. There was no warmth. There was no resistance. Only emptiness.
"What's going on?" he whispered , as the tears fell silently.
Delfi is oblivious. She gets up , walks to the kitchen, opens the cupboard and takes out a box of cookies. Then she pours milk and returns to the couch, passing by John as if he didn't even exist. As if he were the ghost.
John tried to call her , touch her, shout her name with the desperation of someone crying out for an anchor in the middle of a shipwreck. It was no use. She couldn't hear him.
But then something broke the pattern. She turned her face toward him and said sweetly and lightly, though in a reprimanding tone:
— Brother, you're going to be late. It's already time…
John felt the world stop for a second. His breath hitched. She... spoke to him?
Before he could react, another John appeared on the scene. He passed by him like a breeze and approached Delfi naturally. He stroked her hair tenderly and replied with a serene smile:
— You don't need to worry. I wo n't be late. You're not going out today, are you?
"I have nowhere to go today," Delfi said , pouting with an air of almost theatrical innocence.
John tossed her a gold credit card with a slight twirl in the air, which landed softly on the tempered glass coffee table.
— Go shopping with your friends.
Delfi's eyes widened, her expression of surprise dissolving into a wide smile. Without hesitation, she ran to him and hugged him tightly, her face nestling into his chest.
— My bro is the best!
John gently pushed her away, stretching the fabric of his jacket with quick fingers.
— Be careful with my jacket.
She laughed, taking a step back, and raised an eyebrow.
— Bro... where are you going this time?
— To Egypt.
- Serious?
— Yes. They discovered a relic with an energy pulse never before recorded on Earth. The CIA is sending a field team. I've been included.
—But ... why are you telling me this? Isn't it confidential ?
— Yeah. But who's going to know? It's not like there are hidden cameras around here.
Delfi crossed her arms, smirking.
— What if I told someone? Or posted it on Facebook ?
John laughed out loud, as if the idea was both absurd and charming at the same time.
— You can post it, of course. But the people who hear it will be erased from existence, and your profile will disappear before you even finish the caption.
She burst out laughing, throwing her head back, hands on her stomach.
John, for his part, remained smiling for a moment… until the smile slowly faded. His tone was now more serious, his gaze attentive.
— Delfi … be careful. I'll be gone all week. Don't forget to …
Delfi completed it for him, almost like a family liturgy.
— I know… I'm your most precious asset. Don't worry. Nothing will happen. And I still have the Agents protecting me in the shadows.
John smiled, this time without reservation. He walked to the door, and before crossing it, he leaned over to place a soft kiss on his sister's forehead.
It was at that exact moment that time froze.
The images before John remained suspended in midair. The luxurious apartment, with its white marble finishes and linen curtains caressed by the air-conditioned breeze, now looked like a still painting.
He fell to his knees, his fists clenched on the polished floor. His face, covered in silent tears, slowly turned toward his sister… and toward himself. The voice that escaped his throat was almost a lament:
- What is that?
A figure took shape in the center of the room—ethereal at first, then solid, as if reality reluctantly accepted him. Oni stood with his posture always erect, his eyes unmoved by the pain before him.
—We are in my memories — he said, with the coldness of someone talking about the climate — or rather… in our memories.
John turned his face in fury, and his voice came out in a low growl.
— I know these are memories. I asked why you showed me this?
— I already… I… already… — John's voice broke, hesitant, as if each syllable weighed tons.
"Have you… what?" Oni asked , his voice sharp and impassive, like a blade dipped in ice.
John looked down, but the pain in his expression spoke too loudly.
— John, you changed… because you wanted to forget your sister. The person you loved more than anything… more than yourself.
— What are you talking about? — he replied , in a whisper poisoned with anger — Who gave you the right to say that I was trying to forget Delfi ?
— You can lie to yourself, but not to me. I know you better than you know yourself.
— You don't know me. You're just a parasite ... I bet you were the one who dragged me to another world.
Oni did not respond with anger or sarcasm. His expression remained unchanged, but his dark eyes seemed to delve into the very foundations of John's soul.
— John… why do you want to forget her? — he insisted, the question sounding more like a verdict than a doubt. — Why do you want to erase everything you experienced here… on Earth?
John looked away, his fists shaking.
—I… I don't want to forget anything. You're delirious — he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
Oni leaned forward. The time around him began to distort, as if obeying only his will.
— Since you insist on denying your essence, allow me to show you…
Time moved forward… backwards.
The colors around him diluted like ink in water until they reconfigured themselves into a different scene, older, more intimate. John blinked, feeling a strange numbness in his body—or rather, in the new body he inhabited.
Small, fragile, innocent hands. A limited field of vision. Everything was disproportionate, immense, welcoming and frightening at the same time.
Oni, in the background, watched.
— You are in your old body — he murmured — Still a baby, barely an hour old. But now… you will feel everything intensely. There will be no escape. You will live again every fragment of who you were. And this will last until you accept your past life… back.
John couldn't answer. He just felt .
John's childlike eyes stared up at the white ceiling of a hospital. The air was filled with a sterile smell, mixed with the subtle scent of hand cream. Soft voices echoed near him.
— How cute… honey, what should we name him? — asked a sweet and emotional female voice.
— Jonathan sounds good… how about calling him that? — suggested a firm but choked male voice.
— Jonathan? It seems very long. — laughed the mother, through tears.
— Hmmm … so what about John?
— Sounds good. John… meet your mom and dad.
A light touch rested on the baby's forehead. It was warm, familiar. For the first time, John felt fatherly love in its purest form. There were no words, just the quiet vibration of being loved without having done anything to deserve it. Being loved just for existing.
When he turned one, his parents threw him a party. Blue and gold balloons hung from the ceiling. A simple cake with a small doll on top bore the number "1."
At the age of two, they repeated the party — with more colors, more friends, and now… John was already walking on his own. His steps were unsteady, his hands agitated like those of a little explorer who had just conquered the world.
Memory was not just a repetition. It was a rediscovery.
He was living it all over again. But now… with his adult consciousness trapped in a child's body.
And I felt it.
Every laugh.
Every hug.
Every look.
His parents were happy, radiant like two stars that had discovered a new sun. John, still small, marveled at the looks he received—there was a glow in them that he did not understand, but felt deeply. It was as if he were the most precious treasure in the world.
Years passed. And then one day, everything changed.
His mother called to him softly.
— John…
- Mother?
— Come closer, my love.
He walked cautiously to the edge of the bed, where his mother lay with a small bundle in her arms.
— Look at her… she's your little sister. As an older brother, you have to take good care of her.
John's eyes shone, round with surprise.
— Yes, mom. I'll take care of my little sister. And you too.
She laughed through her tears, lightly touching his cheek.
— How cute… okay. You'll take care of both of us.
- Mother?
— What's wrong, son?
— What's her name?
The woman smiled tenderly, her voice a whisper that seemed to contain all the love in the world.
— Her name is Delfi .
— Delfi ? Look here, Delfi … I'm John, your older brother. I'm going to take care of you. And you have to obey me, okay?
He touched the baby's little fingers with extreme delicacy. Delfi opened her eyes for a moment and let out a soft sound, almost a laugh.
Time passed, but John's love for Delfi didn't just endure—it grew, it blossomed, it became the root of everything he was.
When her parents went to work, it was John who fed her, who told her stories, who wiped her tears and shared the little smiles of each morning. When Delfi fell and scraped her knee at age three, it was John who cried all night, silently, in the dark.
Delfi 's fifth birthday , tragedy struck like an axe.
The news came cold, raw, impossible to swallow: the parents had died. The plane carrying them on a business trip had exploded in mid-air, the victim of a catastrophic technical failure. There were no survivors.
The world stopped.
John sat down next to Delfi , hugging her tightly, as if the warmth of his body was able to protect her from reality.
— Delfi … Mommy and Daddy aren't here anymore… — he murmured, his voice breaking — But don't worry. I'll take care of you. Really. Always.
Tears flowed freely down the face of the boy who was forced to grow up.
They went to live with their aunt. And with her, their uncle also came.
The house was cold, without smiles. The food was scarce, the looks sharp. Delfi was still too young to understand, but John felt it… and endured it. He endured every scolding, every unfair punishment, every harsh word and every gesture that made him shrink.
He endured… for her.
It was only when he got his first part-time job that the faint flame of hope was rekindled.
To keep his mind sane, John took refuge in anime. He fell in love with the stories, the impossible worlds, the heroes who faced tragedies with courage. For the first time in a long time… he smiled again.
The characters who fought to the end gave him the strength that the real world denied him.
And Delfi … Delfi was his beacon.
Thanks to her, he continued.
Thanks to her eyes, full of faith in her older brother, he took a deep breath and resisted.
Time has proven what was clear from the beginning: John was a genius.
In computing, he dominated everything. He created, sold, and manipulated codes as if he were breathing. He set up online businesses , transformed ideas into income, opportunities into freedom.
When he finally reached high school, John did what he had promised himself for years: he and Delfi moved out of that house.
With a part-time job and his own small internet business, John kept himself afloat.
Until one day, a CIA agent noticed him. Surprised by his exceptional talent , the man offered him a full scholarship and promised to help take care of his sister — in exchange, John would provide services for the American government.
John accepted.
Seeing her sister growing up healthy, happy, loved… was the greatest gift she had ever received.
He lived for her. He breathed for her. Every day, seeing her smile, something inside him healed.
During college, John made a few friends online. He was brilliant, funny, but... there was something withdrawn about him. He never felt like he belonged. He had a few girlfriends, but none of the relationships went anywhere—and by graduation, when everyone else was celebrating their futures, John was already looking back.
When he officially joined the CIA, his world was reduced to three things: his mission, his sister, and a solitary life as an otaku. gamer .
He didn't make many friends, but he found his team—a brotherhood of hidden soldiers, men and women with whom he shared blood, sweat, secrets… and death.
They were his second family.
And even with all the risks, John enjoyed his life.
Everything… because he still had his sister.
Once. Twice. Three times. On the tenth, his voice cut like steel:
- He arrives.
The world shattered.
The silence shattered like shattered glass, and John emerged from the crimson egg, finding himself standing in the Sea of Soul—a dreamlike ocean of memories, fragments, and echoes.
His gaze had changed.
Now, in the eyes that opened, there was determination.
The hesitation had been stripped away. The mask of new life had been destroyed. What was left… was the real John. Earthly John.
John Venhorst was no longer the young man who had lived in that world for nine years—he was now the vivid sum of everything he had lived before, the weight of every memory, every tear, every promise.
The personality he had tried to adopt in this new world had been cruelly suppressed.
— Why did you want to forget your past life? — Oni's voice sounded like a calm thunder. — Your sister… your companions, those with whom you shared life and death, those whom you called family?
John closed his eyes for a moment.
— They stayed behind… on Earth. And I am here. Alone. How could I live if not by denying the past?
— At first, you wanted to find a way back. So why did you change your mind?
John hesitated. Then he spoke without looking up:
— Look at my father… how long did it take him to become a higher being? Three decades… or more. And yet, he never heard of other worlds.
Oni was silent for a moment. Then, with a slightly firmer voice, he asked:
— Was that why? You no longer believe you can return? And that's why you decided to forget... abandon everything and everyone?
John did not respond.
He just lowered his head.
— John… — Oni said slowly. — What if I told you… that with enough strength… it is possible to return to Earth?
He looked up, his heart racing.
— Would you seek that strength?
—What force would that be? — John asked, still skeptical.
— A strength that surpasses that of a superior being by multiple folds — Oni replied with somber serenity.
John closed his eyes, and his voice sounded like an echo of resignation:
—And what's the point of conquering such a force? In the end, when I return to Earth... there will only be tombs left. Tombs instead of real people.
Oni did not hesitate.
—No matter how many years pass here... you will be able to return exactly to the moment you left—he said.
John jerked his head up, his eyes locked on Oni's enigmatic gaze.
"Is this serious?" he asked in a low voice, filled with suspicion and hope intertwined.
Oni nodded.
"Then yes," John murmured. "I would like to go back."
— John… I also intend to return to a place — Oni said suddenly.
— What place would that be?
— I want to return to the Abyssal Throne.
— Abysmal Throne? What is this place? — John frowned.
— That's where I came from. That's where I came from. I belong to the Abysmal Throne. And I want you to take me back. In exchange… I'll take you to Earth, along with your sister. Or, if you prefer, I'll bring her to you, here.
John froze.
— Seriously? Can you do that? Bring her here… or take me there?
— Not in this state. To do so, I must first return to the Abyssal Throne. Only there will I be whole again. When that happens… nothing will be impossible for me.
John clenched his fists, his eyes filled with a flame that had not burned for a long time.
— Okay. I'll help. I'll take you back to the Abyssal Throne. And you'll bring my sister to me.
— It's decided, then.
— What should we do? — John asked.
— Now? We need to level up as quickly as possible. To do that, we must make the most of the crimson energy... and your scientific knowledge of Earth.
— Understood. The faster we go up, the sooner I can be with my sister again.
There was a pause. Then John looked at Oni, his expression softer but more attentive.
— Oni… how about telling me what you promised?
Oni nodded slightly.
— Okay, John. Pay attention to what I'm going to tell you …
He stared into space, as if conjuring something distant and obscure.
— My memory… begins the day I met you. Everything before that… are just fragments.
"Was that on Earth?" John asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
— No. We didn't know each other on Earth — Oni replied in a calm voice.
John's eyes widened in bewilderment. He stared at Oni as if trying to decipher the impossible. But the other did not hesitate. He continued, with the calm of someone narrating their own destiny:
— John… this is not your second life, as you believe. You have lived countless lives. And in all of them… I have been by your side.
John kept his gaze fixed, now entirely absorbed by Oni's words.
—When we first met, you were just a fragment of a soul… nearly destroyed. At that time, I was a being without identity, without a past, wandering through Samsara—the vast sea of reincarnation—in search of a soul to which I could bond… through symbiosis.
—I could not escape Samsara. I wandered through countless cycles, my existence withering with each turn… until the day I saw you. A fragment of a soul, ready to be purified and converted into energy.
Oni's voice sounded like a whisper coming from the depths of time.
— Every soul that falls into the Sea of Reincarnation is stripped of its memories, dissolved into pure essence… and then molded anew into a new soul, sent randomly to some world.
—But we… merged. You, a fragment on the brink of extinction. Me, an entity without a past. And we became one soul.
— So, we were sent to reincarnate on Earth. But unfortunately for us, there was no spiritual energy in that world. Evolving… became impossible.
— We lived ninety-nine lives together on Earth. Whenever we died, we were dragged back into Samsara… and sent back to the same world.
— We tried everything. Everything to escape that cycle—from Earth or from Samsara itself—but we never succeeded. With each lifetime, the crimson energy that sustained our souls waned. Life after life… until only spiritual dust remained.
John remained motionless, but his chest heaved slightly. His eyes fixed on Oni were unblinking.
— There came a point where, upon reincarnation, you could no longer preserve your memories. One by one, they were lost. And I… was affected too.
—To preserve my consciousness, I used all the remaining power I had. I built the Soul Sea within your soul. It was in your last life… when you were called John… that I finally completed it.
— At that time, my memories before you… were erased. Consumed by Samsara itself. I decided to accept this. I remained in the Soul Sea, living in your shadow, observing your life… and accepting your family as my own. I never interfered. That's why… you never knew of my existence.
John seemed at a loss for words. A long silence hung, heavy as cast iron. Then he whispered:
—That… lasted until my last mission. In the pyramids, right?
— Yes — Oni replied firmly.
John bit his lip, eyes half closed. The memory still burned.
"When I went to Egypt… did I come across the Crimson Egg?" he asked , his voice low, as if he feared the answer.
— Yes, that's exactly it. When you touched the fragment of the Crimson Egg on Earth… someone in this new world—or rather, Catarina, our current mother—found another fragment, which was here— Oni said, his voice heavy with gravity.
John's eyes widened. Each word seemed to undo the ground beneath his feet.
"The egg Catarina found was larger than yours," Oni continued. "As a result… there was a singularity. The Sea of Reincarnation was torn apart for an instant. A passage between Earth and this world was opened. We were sucked in."
He paused, as if the memory still echoed within him.
—Luckily… Catarina was pregnant.
John swallowed hard.
—What if she wasn't? What would have happened? — her voice sounded fragile, almost a whisper.
"Most likely, her soul would be annihilated," Oni replied bluntly. "We would take the place of her soul… possessing her body completely. But luckily for Catarina, it was the soul of her unborn child that was replaced by us."
John brought his hand to his forehead, as if trying to process the impossible.
— So… is that how we ended up here?
He was silent for a moment, contemplating the implications. His eyes moved restlessly, as if reliving fragments of lives he never remembered having.
—So… if we die in this world… will we be sent back to Earth? — he asked finally.
"No," Oni replied dryly. "I… no longer have enough power to face the Sea of Reincarnation. If you die here… it will be the end of us. Our souls will be undone, converted into essence. A new soul will be created… without memory, without past… without us."
John clenched his fists.
— So… what should we do?
Oni smiled, for the first time with a spark of hope in his eyes.
—Luckily for us, this world is not like Earth. Here, there is spiritual energy. Here… we can evolve. We can regain my former power.
—And when that happens? — John asked, his gaze fixed, firm.
—When that time comes… we will be able to wander between worlds. Cross dimensions… until we find the Abysmal Throne. And then… we will return to Earth. To the exact moment we left it.
John nodded slowly.
— Sure. First, get your power back. Second, find the Abyssal Throne. Lastly… get my previous life back.
— So… let's make a pact — said Oni.
John arched his eyebrow.
— How does it work?
"We will be completely one," Oni explained. "Until we find the Abyssal Throne, we will share soul, mind, and essence. I will give you all my power… but I will not interfere in your life. I will only train you. I will help you in any way I can."
John took a deep breath. His eyes, now resolute, stared at Oni without hesitation.
— Okay. Let's make the pact.
Oni raised his hand toward John's forehead. The instant his fingers touched the skin, a mark identical to the one that had always adorned Oni's forehead glowed, incandescent, in the center of John's forehead.
A sharp chill ran down his spine. But it wasn't physical—it was a chill that snaked its way through his soul, as if its deepest layers were being touched by something ancient and vast and irreversible.
The connection with the Sea of Soul is complete.
Now, whatever Oni could do, John could do too.
"Is it done?" John asked , still with his hand on his forehead, surprised by the absence of pain.
— Yes. By now you should be aware of some of my abilities — Oni replied, with a slight nod. — Try pronouncing the word 'assimilation' in the Baboan language .
John frowned, but followed the guidance. The word came instinctively, shaped by something beyond his consciousness.
— Assimilation — he intoned, as if it were an ancient incantation.
At the same moment, a whirlwind of information invaded his mind. Ancient symbols, techniques, diagrams of the soul, rules that he had never studied—but now understood.
"Assimilation is the first Soul Art I am granting you ," Oni explained. "In the future, you will be able to use all the arts I possess."
John nodded, taking a deep breath.
"Go rest," Oni said, his tone a mix of command and caution. "We'll leave tomorrow. When our levels rise… we'll try using Assimilation for the first time."
John returned to the real world, still lying in his room. His forehead was still tingling, and the pain throbbing in his skull was a direct reflection of the flood of information he had received.
It was a lot to process. He needed time. Time to understand, to organize, to decide the next steps in this new world.
But one thing was now clear.
Returning to Earth was not impossible.
No matter how long it took… he would give it his all to reach the next level.
Bone-tired, John gave himself over to sleep. His body rested, but the mark on his forehead glowed softly in the darkness.
Without him noticing, she began to refine his soul. Slowly, layer by layer, his essence was purified. The process was invisible to the eyes, but absolute.
Catarina entered the room later, worried. She approached silently. She found her adored son, and for an instant her face softened.
She assumed he was just tired… and stayed there. Sitting next to him, watching him.
Half the night passed like that.
And then, as if destiny itself was waiting for this moment…
… a new day has dawned.
The day of John's departure finally arrived.
Continued...
Author's note:
John made a pact with the soul of another world. The mark glowed, the soul began to refine itself… but does he really understand what he has gotten himself into?
Strength brings responsibility, but also demands. And when the burden exceeds the promise of returning home… will he still want to move forward?
Comment below: what would you do if you had a second chance … but it cost you your humanity?
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