The heat of the forge baked at me in a way that reminded me of sitting too close to a fire and being in a sauna at the same time. It was therapeutic. I hadn't felt such heat in a long time. Including this life, it had been about 16 years since I'd experienced a nice heat like this.
The only problem was, I wasn't at liberty to enjoy my time the way that I wanted to. I was forging a weapon. Not just any weapon, but my weapon.
The weight of that responsibility settled heavily on my shoulders, as tangible as the leather apron I wore to protect myself from the sparks and debris. This wasn't like saying "that is the gun that I own" or "that is the knife that I brought." This weapon, the one taking shape beneath my hands, was something I had sketched out, done calculations for, carefully selected and tested materials to use in its construction, and ultimately would be responsible for.
To borrow a quote close to my last life, this is my rifle. Only there are no others like it. I must master it as I master my life, I will…
That last part never rolled off the tongue, but it was appropriate.
Sure, there were some stock parts and transformation modules for compression and form changes, but the baseline idea was all my own, born from my mind and given life through my labor.
As I worked, the questions churned in my mind. What did I, Ezekiel Slater, want? What did I need? My body was a tool that I had turned into a weapon, my mind a deduction learning machine. And my soul... well, I was still figuring that part out, especially with Aura being a thing.
But I knew I could cover mid-range rather well with my ability to project blasts from Aura, and while this weapon could end up seeing me learn an entirely new style of fighting, hand-to-hand was always an option. The only things I couldn't do were reach out and touch someone with lethal intent from 80 yards and out, or do effective crowd control without blasting everything in my immediate surroundings.
Around me, the forge seemed to pulse with a life of its own. The walls were lined with racks of tools, each one worn and weathered from years of use. The anvil in the center of the room was scarred and pitted, its surface reflecting the countless blows it had endured. Even the air itself seemed heavy with the weight of history, the ghosts of all the weapons that had been forged in this place.
I paused for a moment, wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. I needed to do something, to create a weapon that would give me an edge in the battles to come.
Ideas flitted through my mind, each one considered and discarded in turn. I needed something that could keep my foes at a distance while still allowing for effective close range crowd control.
Under normal circumstances, against normal humans, the best choice would be a medium crew-served machine gun like an M240 or a PKM. But here, on Remnant, just having a medium machine gun wouldn't be enough. I needed the ability for my hypothetical weapon to beat the brakes off someone.
Unfortunately, the budget I was working with couldn't get me gauntlets that could turn into a machine gun. The best I could manage there was a submachine gun, and I hated submachine guns.
I could see it if I went with this design. Trying to hold off four enemies, one with the ability to hold me in place, two harassers set me up for an easy knock out by a hard hitter. Ammo would be the first thing to fail me if I tried it with SMG gauntlets. I wouldn't be able to shoot off Aura nearly fast enough to make up for the rate of fire. Not to mention the inherent disadvantage that came with being out ranged by longer melee weapons.
No, what I needed was a fully melee weapon that could also function as a fully-fledged machine gun. It was a tall order, but as I stared into the flames of the forge, I looked at the initial designs that I had drawn up for this.
A gunblade. An unironic, honest-to-god gunblade.
It was ridiculous, the stuff of video games and anime. But I would be wise to remember that on some level, this was an anime. Even if it was real life, it could be both. Also, it sounded pretty cool.
And I missed shooting guns.
But more importantly, this gunblade or as I should say this machinegunblade was my perfect counter. Not just in terms of it being just the thing I would use if I needed to stop someone like me but to also be what could answer my new life's greatest worry.
Team RWBY.
It was an overstep for sure, to design a weapon specifically for four individuals, but... all weapons were equal in that they were tools with the capacity to take a life.
I had done worse before, besides it was just in case.
I gnashed my teeth, the sound echoing off the stone walls of the forge. The flames danced in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. The air was thick with the scent of hot metal and burning coal, a familiar and almost comforting aroma.
Speed, subversive action, versatility, scaling force. These were the factors I had to consider, the elements that would make or break my weapon in the heat of battle.
I needed accurate suppressive fire for a sustained amount of time. Any moment spent preventing myself from being bogged down by Glyphs was time well spent. And the ability to seamlessly transition from ranged combat to melee? That could be the difference between life and death.
Speed was the only factor I still needed to work on, especially now that I hadn't used a sword in combat since my days of reenacting Anakin Skywalker's dueling style when I was…. God, that was over 20 years ago now, wasn't it?
I leaned against the rough stone wall, staring into the heart of the flames. For a brief moment, I could almost hear the screams of Anakin as he burned and unconsciously started to remember what burning flash smelled like. The actors' screams gave way to the very real screams that I had caused, their voices reaching pitches I wished I hadn't known were possible. Despite the heat I thought that remembering would drown me.
It felt like I was, being drowned by memories that is.
My first day of consciousness in this new world. Dying in the streets as my boys retreated. The second time I joined the military, a lifetime ago. Deciding to go to college, only to be forced to walk away and fight because they needed NCOs. The first time I laid eyes on Elijah after he got out of prison. Burying my father, the weight of loss heavy on my shoulders. When I left the military after my first enlistment feeling free for the first time in my life. And so many more quiet moments, each one a thread in the tapestry of my life.
What was I doing?
I peered into the flames, and for a moment, I saw myself reflected back as I think I was back then covered in blood, organs spilling into a hastily set H bandage. The orange glow danced across my features, highlighting the determination in my eyes, the set of my jaw.
I looked like I was warmed over death. I had fought to my last in a much higher, more inhospitable heat. Yet here I…
I could almost hear my heart drumming in my ears, a steady beat that I almost lost myself too. The beat was way too loud despite the fact the other occupants of the forge were hammering, sanding and repairing with no regard to noise.
"Ezekiel?" A small hand gently tugged at my arm, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked down to see Ruby staring up at me, her silver eyes wide and guileless. "You must really want to forge Tyrant, huh?"
It took everything I had to quell the inner screaming in my head as I looked at the Damocles blade that the young girl had no idea she was helping me forge. The weight of it settled on my shoulders, a burden I wasn't sure I was ready to bear.
"Do you think it's a bad name?" I asked, my voice sounding distant to my own ears.
Ruby hummed to herself, bouncing our blueprints in her hand as she considered the question. The papers rustled softly, the sound almost lost beneath the roar of the forge.
"Nope!" she declared, a small grin spreading across her face.
"Hm." I grunted, expecting as much.
"You're not going to ask why?" Ruby pouted, her lower lip jutting out in a way that made her look even younger than she was.
Almost without thinking, my hand found itself on her head, ruffling her hair as I shook her head back and forth. The strands were soft beneath my fingers, the color of rich mahogany in the firelight.
"Stop that!" Ruby protested, swatting at my hand.
"Hmm, nope." I replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
"Hey, you can't say that! That's my line!"
"Is this a movie now?" I raised an eyebrow, the tension in my chest easing just a fraction.
Ruby giggled, the sound bright and carefree in the heavy air of the forge. "Maybe it is! But if it is, then you're not following the script."
I shook my head, a chuckle escaping my lips. "Yeah but ad libbing is fun."
"Well, you can't just completely change the tone of the movie!" Ruby declared, puffing out her cheeks.
If my life were a movie, I'm almost sure that the majority of it would be a tragedy.
Still though- "Are you sure you're okay? You seem like you have something heavy on your mind?" Ruby said with a look of concern, before blushing and stuttering "I-I mean you just have a look on your face that I sometimes see my Dad have or Uncle Qrow when they think no one is looking."
…
"I… I'm thinking about things that I don't have an answer to." I say, trying to figure out why I said anything to her in the first place. Who talks to their murder victims like this?
My eyes burned and I had no idea why. I tried to push it aside, it felt like doing a 475 squat with no belt. Like I was getting ready to get crushed by something.
"I'm sorry."
A hand grabbed mine and I found myself being dragged out the forge by the younger girl. What was wrong with me? I had done worse things than plot the demise of children.
I had gone through with it before. Entire families wiped out, I had sacked entire towns… so why was this different.
Why was I breaking down now?
Through tear blurred eyes I found myself sitting on a bench and a golden blob which I assumed was Yang had reached an arm around me. It made me want to vomit.
I wiped my tears and looked and met concerned lilac colored eyes.
"Hey… Ezekiel you doing alright buddy?" Yang asked with an awkward look on her face.
A realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. I was friends with these two. Somehow I failed to maintain my distance and by virtue of seeing these two day in and day out they had become pre- important to me.
I looked at the grass in front of me before looking at my hands. I felt off center… something wasn't right and - standing up I walked into the grass and projectile vomited whatever I last ate onto the grass.
A hand found its way onto my back gently rubbing in circles. "O-oh. Geez! Yeah… Let it all out bud, I've got you." Yang said and I guess I felt kinda bad for her. I had no idea where Ruby went but I imagine that she didn't expect me to drop in her metaphorical lap sobbing and crying and now vomiting.
I was lucky too, this vomit wasn't the kind where you thought your eyes were going to pop out your skull, it was just forceful coming up.
I hated this.
I hated everything about this.
But what did I really expect? I was poising myself up to hang over these girls, half of which I knew and the others ones that I did not. And I was going to execute them because of half forgotten memories?
And for what? I… I am not a good person… I know that damn it! But… I couldn't keep killing children before they grew up to be enemies.
It felt like it was ripping me apart inside.
Fuck, even saying it in my head made me want to rip out my hair.
"You feeling better now?" Yang asked and as I stared at my vomit puddle in front of my eyes I realized that I had stopped, crying and vomiting.
"Not really, but I'll live." I said but my words had sounded hollow, even to my own ears.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Yang asked as she gently helped me stand up and walk back to the bench where she had been sitting which now that I think about it was one of the outside lunch benches that Signal had.
She had been sitting with friends but upon seeing my face and seeing Yang return with me they stood up and left.
Would this help? I really didn't know. Common sense dictates that a moment like this would be inevitable. It was best to do it on my own terms.
"Sure, I guess I have something that I want to say."
Sitting down with my back against the table I leaned over my knees and sighed. "My name is Ezekiel Slater."
"Yeah, I kinda gathered that by now, I know I call you nerd a lot but I'm not that bad of a friend am I?" Yang said and I couldn't help but fix her a look.
"What?" The blonde said guilelessly.
"My name is Ezekiel Slater. It wasn't always my name- I used to go by a different name and I didn't always look like this. I remember living another life and in that life I did terrible things to people."
"What kind of things?"
"Crimes against humanity. The kind of things that you would read about and realize that this is fucked."
"If you didn't want to tell me that is perfectly okay you know."
"I-I do!" I averted my gaze from lilac eyes. "I'm not from Remnant, or rather my soul isn't. I-"
"Are reincarnation from another world stuffed into a no name orphan that was originally a background character that is suddenly going to change the world? Pft as if you of all people could be something like that." if it weren't for the suddenly ugly expression that flashed across Yang's face I would have thought…
Actually I don't know what I would've thought. But watching her face smooth back into an annoyed expression I realized that this was a bad idea.
"Nevermind." I stood up from the bench and walked away from the pavilion and for some reason I felt exposed, almost like I could feel danger, but there was nothing that I could ping on.
I…
What the hell is wrong with me?
Forcing one foot in front of another I walked back inside to the forge, wiping my face and clearing my expression as much as I could. I had to focus on what it was that I wanted…
What I wanted was something reliable. And wouldn't fail me even if it wasn't the best weapon for every situation. Tyrant could do that for me. I would have to modify my design a bit if I wanted to add in bipods but as it was Tyrant was a good machinegunblade.
Picking up my blueprint as I made my way back to the part of the forge where I was earlier I took two deep breaths.
"What do you mean "He walked away after telling a bad joke?"" Ruby said to her old sister, but Yang really didn't understand the situation at all, Ruby had dropped their mutual friend off during her lunch and didn't explain why he had been there in the first place.
As for why Ruby was at Signal instead of Spotlight, well, she had been doing well and the teachers wanted to reward her by letting her forge her weapon early. Being skipped forward was even being considered since her combat ability had even gone up since she started training with her and Ezekiel.
Yang was proud of Ruby, but Yang did not understand what just happened. She just dropped Ezekiel off, he vomited, cried a bit, told a bad joke and left.
"I mean what do you want me to say, what he was starting to talk about made him sound like one of those crappy Mistrali fantasy novels where they sound all stuck up and like they are better than everyone." Yang defended. It got really bad when kids in her own grade started reading those shitty ass stories and realized that Yang's name followed a similar naming convention.
She had heard enough jokes about following the Dao to last her a lifetime.
Granted what Ezekiel had said didn't verbatim sound like that but still.
"Yang, he was crying. Why would he tell a bad joke after that?" Ruby said as she stomped her foot and grabbed at her hands.
"People do it all the time, it's called self depreciation." Yang rebutted to her sister holding her hand up silently telling her 'duh'.
Ruby fixed her a glare that almost sent a shiver down her spine as she furrowed her eyebrows into a serious look, it almost reminded Yang of Mom. "Getting past that, did you at least see where he went?"
"He went back to the Forge."
"And you just let him?"
Why would she stop him? "Yeah, Ezekiel is pretty tough, I figure that the worst that could happen is he hurts his Aura a little bit."
The boy had been known for being ridiculously strong and tough, casually doing things that no one would think to do even with Aura all for the sake of training. It was as retarded as it was inspiring, not that Yang would ever say that out loud since picking on people with mental disabilities was pretty rude.
Ezekiel was definitely special too, it took her a few weeks to realize it but the boy seemed to have a lot of the hallmarks of someone who was on the spectrum. At least that was what Ms. Aloe said after explaining the concept to her.
…
It did say a lot though, that one of her favorite people in this school was like that. Ezekiel wasn't all that emotive, except around food, he ate everything like it would be his last meal.
The gray haired friend had issues getting along with others like he didn't really see them but he was like that with almost everyone. And that causes its own fair share of issues.
Yang had seen the boy completely shrug off the attempts to bully him with trifling ease, ducking and weaving like he could know the exact timing of each attack. Not that it was the complete truth since she had seen him get tagged but if she didn't know better she would think it was a Spruce Willis film with how choreographed he managed to make everything look.
Even when they stole his books he typically tracked them down within the day and got his stuff back easily enough. Staring into his mostly inexpressive face was definitely a trial especially since most of the time it looked like the boy was getting ready to kill you.
But his face was just like that.
All this to say Yang trusted that Ezekiel could take care of himself and besides his face is always like that now that she thinks about it.
Except… earlier…
…
Oh…
This wasn't good, was it?
But as she looked at her sister's face, saw the genuine concern and determination there, Yang felt a pang of guilt. Maybe she had been too dismissive, too quick to write off Ezekiel's feelings as nothing more than a joke.
Before she could respond, however, a group of girls from their class approached the pavilion. They were whispering amongst themselves, casting furtive glances at the two sisters as they drew closer.
"Yang, that was... kinda messed up," one of the girls said, her voice carrying across the short distance.
Another nodded, her eyes wide. "Yeah, isn't Ezekiel like, your boyfriend?"
Yang's face flushed a deep red, and she shot to her feet, nearly upending the bench in the process. "H-hey, it's not like that, you know!" she stammered, waving her hands in front of her. "Besides, me and Ezekiel? Psh, why would we be a thing?!"
The girls exchanged knowing looks, their faces a mix of skepticism and barely-contained glee at the prospect of fresh gossip.
"Now she's denying that they were together," one of them stage-whispered, hiding her mouth behind her hand.
"Was he really that bad?" another asked, her nose wrinkling as if she'd smelled something foul.
The third girl leaned in, her eyes glinting with malicious curiosity. "Did you break up with him because he has back acne? Bacne?"
Yang's mouth opened and closed, her words failing her as the girls continued to speculate and whisper. She could feel the weight of their stares, the judgment in their eyes, and it made her skin crawl.
Ruby, who had been watching the exchange with growing irritation, finally stood up. The bench scraped against the concrete of the pavilion, the sound cutting through the chatter like a knife.
Ruby's voice cut through the chatter like a whip, her words laced with a fierce protectiveness that made even Yang blink in surprise. "That's enough," she said, silver eyes flashing as she stared down the gossiping girls. "Yang and Ezekiel's relationship is none of your business. And even if it was, spreading rumors and making fun of someone's appearance is never okay."
The girls fell silent, their mouths snapping shut as they withered under the intensity of Ruby's glare. They shifted uncomfortably, suddenly finding the ground very interesting. A few of them scuffed their shoes against the concrete, while others picked at loose threads on their uniforms.
Ruby held their gazes for a moment longer, letting the weight of her disapproval sink in. Then, with a nod of satisfaction, she turned to Yang. Her expression softened, the hard lines of anger melting into gentle concern.
"Come on," she said, reaching out to take her sister's hand. Yang's fingers were cold and clammy, trembling slightly in Ruby's grasp. "Let's go find Ezekiel. We need to make this right."
Yang nodded, swallowing past the lump in her throat. She allowed Ruby to lead her away from the pavilion, the younger girl's red cloak fluttering behind them like a banner.
As they walked, Yang could hear the gossiping girls whispering amongst themselves, their voices carrying on the breeze.
"She must've really broke his heart," one of them said, her tone a mix of pity and vindication.
Another girl, her voice saccharine sweet, chimed in. "I can fix him."
Yang's steps faltered, her stomach churning at the thought of someone else trying to swoop in and take advantage of Ezekiel's vulnerability. But before she could dwell on it too long, a third voice spoke up, the words sending a chill down her spine.
"I kinda want to see him cry again. It looked kinda cute to see him like that."
There was a beat of shocked silence, then a scandalized gasp. "Samantha, what is wrong with you?"
The girl, Samantha, let out a dreamy sigh. "What? You cannot possibly mean to tell me you wouldn't want to see those golden eyes looking towards *you* with desperation and need."
Another voice, this one belonging to a girl named Lumin, spoke up. "No... but I guess I can see the appeal. I prefer how he looks down on everyone around him. Like, ooh, step on me daddy, please..."
Yang's face burned, her free hand clenching into a fist at her side. How dare they talk about Ezekiel like that, like he was some kind of object to be lusted after and manipulated?
But before she could storm back to the pavilion and give those girls a piece of her mind, the first voice cut in again, sounding equal parts disgusted and intrigued. "Lumin, you're a freak too. Why can't you guys just want to be the ones to baby trap him like I do?"
Yang's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. Baby trap? They couldn't possibly mean…
"Chara, you're 12."
"13 actually," Lumin interrupted, "you would know that if you went to her birthday party last week instead of trying to get some one on one time with you know who." Lumin finished with a smug look on her face.
"Yeah, well at least I didn't almost give myself a yeast infection trying -ehem- look mature." The white hair girl batted back looking annoyed and Yang had a feeling that this was about to get bit PG-13.
Looking to her sister who was also sporting an atomic blush, Yang pulled her little sister towards the forge faster, with Ruby needing to jog slightly to keep pace with her taller sister.
Walking into the sweltering room where various other students were working they ignored them and approached the gray haired boy as he carefully beat a blade into shape.
It kinda surprised Yang, since she wouldn't have expected something like that given how up and personal Ezekiel seemed to prefer to get.
Yang went to open her mouth but she found that she couldn't find the words she wanted to choose. The boy paid no mind to them as he worked and Ruby seemed to try to find the right words too but…
"Ezeki-"
Clang
"Ar-"
Clang
"Hey-"
Clang
It was then that Yang noticed that Ezekiel was humming to himself.
He was going to be in his own world for a while.
"Rubes, I know that I messed up and Ezekiel isn't doing so hot right now but we should probably at least wait until after school."
Ruby sighed, "Yeah…" he was way too in the zone and until he had reached a point where he couldn't progress any further he wasn't going to be easy to interrupt. It would be easier to talk about after the day was finished since Ruby herself didn't have to deal with classes and they would all be hanging out after school but still…
It didn't sit right with her to leave this like this was when she could do something about this. This wasn't like dealing with Dad or Uncle Qrow who would say she didn't understand, especially since Ezekiel was only a bit older than her.
As for Yang she felt a bit useless, she had some indirect responsibility for this. In fact, Yang wouldn't be surprised if he was slow to bring anything to her attention. But at the same time… she acknowledged that she kinda enjoyed seeing him cry. Not like Samantha, but because…
Because…
Because he was just better than her. He had no flaws as far as the school was concerned, he had a stupid amount of Aura, had stumbled into some kinda super Aura technique, and the only times she could actually beat him were on the rare days where he was already tired or hadn't fully recovered. Not that she had ever beaten him in school, so she still had to hear that stupid nickname everytime she lost in class.
The Unbreakable Boy.
And it was like those fights didn't even matter, the golden eyed boy met her with the same steady resolve he always did. Yang had to live with the idea that even without those techniques he had taught her, a true decisive victory was about as likely as the sun not rising.
And even then…
What the hell was she supposed to do?
Sure, she had Ember Cecila now but that wouldn't change her fighting style enough that she thought it would give the Unbreakable Boy any pause.
Yang burned at the thought of it. Now he was forging a weapon and knowing him he would master a new fighting style with the same ease he learned everything else.
"Feh" Maybe he really was reincarnated, and Yang was destined to be the eternal runner up.
Resentment and guilt… She did feel bad but at the same time, the golden haired brawler felt… cheated? Sorry? She didn't know… Yang didn't know what she wanted or felt or wanted to feel.
"She must've really broke his heart,"
And she really could go without hearing her other friend's words in her ears at the moment.
Yang turned her attention away from the boy and left the forge, since she had already finished her weapon she had a free period so it was definitely better to spend it away from here.
Away from the root of her problems.
Tai Yang Xiao Long stood before the bathroom mirror, his hands gripping the sides of the sink as he stared at his reflection. The man looking back at him was a stranger, a shell of the vibrant, optimistic Huntsman he had once been.
Deep lines etched their way across his forehead and around his mouth, testament to the years of grief and stress that had eaten away at him. His blond hair, once thick and lustrous, was now dull and streaked with gray. But it was his eyes that truly betrayed the depths of his despair - blue orbs that had once sparkled with mirth and determination, now hollow and haunted.
Tai Yang was a failure of a father. He knew it, deep in his bones, with a certainty that gnawed at his very soul. He could see it in the way his daughters looked at him, their faces mirror images of the loves he had lost. Summer's gentle smile, Raven's fierce gaze - both now tinged with fear and anxiety whenever they turned his way.
It hurt, a pain that cut deeper than any Grimm's claws ever could. And it was just another weight he had to bear, another burden to add to the crushing load that threatened to drag him under.
Along with never knowing why Summer left, vanishing into the night without a word, leaving behind a void that could never be filled.
Along with never understanding why Raven, the woman he had loved with a passion that burned brighter than the sun, had chosen a tribe of weaklings over the strongest bond she could have ever forged - the bond of family.
Tai Yang was only in his early thirties, but he felt ancient, his body and mind worn down by the relentless march of time and tragedy. Each movement was a struggle, not just because of the pervading sadness that clung to him like a shroud, but because he found it hard to feel anything at all these days.
Life used to be so simple, back when he was just a young Huntsman fresh out of the Academy. Go to village A, kill the Grimm. Protect caravan B from raiders and monsters. It was a life of purpose, of clear-cut goals and tangible results.
But now? Now, everything was muddled, the lines between right and wrong blurred beyond recognition. He knew, with a sinking certainty, that if the boy he had once been could see him now, he would do everything in his power to save Yang and Ruby from the man their father had become.
Tai Yang wasn't the kind of person he would want his kids around. He was a wreck, a shadow of his former self, barely holding on by a thread. And yet, here they were, stuck with him. Dependent on him.
It was a responsibility he had never asked for, but one he couldn't shirk, no matter how much he might want to.
With a sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his being, Tai Yang met his own gaze in the mirror. "C'mon, Tai Yang," he muttered, his voice rough and raspy from disuse. "We just gotta finish up class today and then go see if Yang wants to hang out with her old man. She just got her weapon, so she would surely want someone to show her the ropes, right?"
The words rang hollow, even to his own ears. But he forced a smile anyway, the expression feeling foreign and wrong on his face. In the mirror, his reflection grinned back at him, a jagged, brittle thing that didn't quite reach his eyes.
It would have to do.
Tai Yang straightened, his spine popping with the movement. He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension that had settled there, a constant companion these days.
Then, with a deep breath, he turned away from the mirror and stepped out of the bathroom. The house was quiet, an eerie stillness that seemed to press in on him from all sides. Ruby was at school, and Yang...
Yang was probably off with her friends, enjoying her youth and freedom in a way he never could. The thought sent a pang of jealousy through him, followed quickly by a wave of shame.
What kind of father envied his own daughter's happiness?
Shaking his head, Tai Yang grabbed his keys from the hook by the door and stepped out into the bright, unforgiving sunlight. He had a class to teach, young minds to mold and shape.
And if he was lucky, maybe, just maybe, he'd find a way to reconnect with his oldest daughter. To bridge the gap that had grown between them, a chasm of unspoken words and missed opportunities.
It was a long shot, a desperate hope born of a man drowning in his own misery. But it was all he had left.
With a final, fortifying breath, Tai Yang squared his shoulders and strode towards his car, ready to face another day in the life he no longer recognized as his own.