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This world was once saved by a single young man that had no fear to anything, not even death.
He is a hero for every person in Earth.
But not even a single human alive, remember who he is.
Not his name.
Not his face.
Not his hair.
Not his body.
Not his voice.
Nothing.
But, miracles do exist, as those, who are close enough to him, are given the memory of him back.
The time they spent with him.
The conversation they had with him.
The world they saved with him.
It was unknown if he ever be known as a hero because, except those people, no one remembers him nor the accident they had all witnessed on that night.
They don't remember ever seeing the moon so close.
They don't remember ever seeing a big tall tower.
They don't remember ever seeing so bloods on a single night.
They don't remember ever seeing people molten to black liquid instantly.
They don't remember ever seeing the people around them and themselves behave that night.
They don't remember the very nightmare which had turned all their hope to zero.
They don't remember who the person that had saved them is.
But, does it matter?
Does it matter for them not to remember him?
Does it matter for them not to remember what he had done for them?
Does it matter for them not to feel even a slight of gratitude for their live after he had saved them?
Does it matter?
"Maybe it does. Because-"
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