It all started that day.
In a desolate land, two men stood alone on the top of the only hill there was, with one more dead on the ground.
The day of sorrow. The day of hatred.
Of the two men alive, one was dying, with a gaping hole where his stomach should have been, caused by the dead man on the ground. The other man, whose features can't be defined, held on to the first man as if he were his only lifeline.
It was the day I lost the only person who I ever was close to, the only person I believed in, and now the only person who left me.
The dying man, mustering the rest of the strength he had, wrote his final message on the floor with his blood. 'Continue living, my brother, or I'll never forgive you.'
That was his last message, and with a final smile, he died.
The remaining man stood still, as if that was all he could do, cradling the dead body of the friend to his chest, as if, if he let go, his friend would disappear forever. However, a crack was heard and a portal opened with hundreds of people rushing out, holding the same flag as the killer of the man's friend.
Hatred, a feeling I've heard of but never felt, came rushing at me like a tidal wave—an overwhelming decision to kill. But my logical side won, and with one last look, I ran.
The man wandered, traveling through galaxies and universes, not stopping a second to rest.
That one day,
I went from a friend to a loner.
From a dweller to a roamer.
From a human to a fading entity.
The man continued, with no destination in mind, in search of something about which he didn't know. Countless hours passed, and slowly and slowly, the man regained his reasoning.
I thought to myself, There is no way my friend would have let me live like this. I remembered his last message once more. I question myself, "Was this the life he wants me to live?" and then, "What am I even supposed to do instead of this?"
After a long period of pondering, the man turned around and retraced the path of his journey, with a new goal in mind.
If I can't live like this, I might as well just not live.
The man went back to the land where his friend died, which was now one of the countless galaxies under the command of the empire—the one that killed his friend.
I let out all the rage I stored in myself, in the deepest part of my soul, but even with the burst of strength, I couldn't stop myself from ending up just like him.
While the man was taking his last breath, a flash of light appeared, and an angel descended.
He has bright blue-gray eyes with blinding white wings, taking the look of his dead friend.
That was when I was offered a choice.
"Would you want a second chance—a chance to restart everything over and live a new life? A new start with no memories of the present and a chance to live how your friend wanted you to."
I couldn't believe it. After giving up hope of honoring my friend, I was given a chance to repent, to amend my mistakes, and to carry out my friend's wish. I frantically accepted, as if the offer would disappear if I didn't, and that was the last action I took before everything faded.
