TIME PERIOD: FIFTEEN YEARS PRIOR TO THE SHATTERING
On a rainy day, people gather outside an apartment complex as an ambulance pulls up. A crowd huddles together, their faces etched with worry and concern. Some whisper to each other, exchanging anxious glances, while others clutch their chests, unable to hide their fear. As everyone waits in anticipation for news of their neighbor's well-being, raindrops hitting umbrellas add to the somber atmosphere.
Brandon, a young black man in his early twenties, lies motionless on the floor, his once vibrant brown skin now pale from blood loss. His curly black hair is matted with blood and his attire is soaked in the crimson pool spreading beneath him. Brandon's left eye and left ear are also bleeding, and a blood puddle grows under his head, a truly gruesome scene.
The paramedics swiftly rush to Brandon's side, their faces masked with intensity and determination. With practiced precision, they assess his condition, stabilizing his head and applying pressure to his wounds. Their calm and swift actions provide a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos, as they work tirelessly to save Brandon's life. Time seems to stand still as the paramedics work to save Brandon's life, the tension in the air palpable. The onlookers hold their breath, their hearts heavy with uncertainty, praying for a miracle that would defy the odds and ensure Brandon's survival.
"It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts…"
As Brandon's breathing slows, his pupils dilate.
"It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts…"
A blurred dark skinned mother rushes into the room urgently looking for Brandon. Tears well up in his good eye, reflecting the fear and uncertainty he feels in the moment. His face slowly becomes lifeless as he watches his mother's panic with his only good eye.
"Mom, I didn't want you to see this…"
A cop enters and his face turns pale as he sees the gruesome scene before him. His hand instinctively reaches for his radio to call for backup.
Brandon's mother shouts, "Why, why?! How could you do this?!"
The cop's hands tremble as he tries to regain his composure. With a heavy heart, he gently guides Brandon's mother away from the gruesome scene, hoping to shield her from further anguish.
The police officer says, "Please come with me, ma'am."
Knowing it's already too late, Brandon watches his mother exit the apartment with the cop in sadness.
"The injury appears to have been self-inflicted."
"The bullet entered the right side of his head and exited through the left." describes a paramedic.
A blood-stained handgun lies beside Brandon on the ground.
"Don't waste your time with me. It's already too late for me, let me go." Brandon says in his thoughts.
Despite Brandon's efforts, he could only make incomprehensible noises. As Brandon's vision blurred, a mixture of pain, regret, and resignation overwhelmed his thoughts. In that moment of despair, Brandon's mind was consumed by a profound sense of hopelessness. The pain and suffering seemed unbearable, and he longed for release from his torment. He yearned for darkness to envelope him, to escape his anguish.
A ghostly voice calls out, "My chosen..."
"That-That voice," Brandon mutters.
"My chosen…"
"There it is again."
A tall grey skinned ghostly female figure with long, flowing hair, ethereal eyes, and four toned arms hovers beside Brandon. In ethereal fabric that seems like it is made of mist and shadow, a faint glow emanates from the fabric, woven with intricate patterns of stars and moons. The figure's feet are bare, barely touching the ground, giving it a surreal appearance. She reaches out one of her translucent hands and gently places it on Brandon's forehead, causing a wave of warmth and calm to wash over him. Despite the chaos unfolding around them, he feels a sense of peace in her presence, as if she holds the answers to all his questions.
Brandon mutters, "Are-Are you the grim reaper?" enchanted by her beauty.
Brandon stares intently at the ghostly figure as she kneels beside his dying body and places her index finger on his forehead. Brandon's heart races with a mix of fear and curiosity as he watches her approach. Thoughts race through his mind, questioning her identity and purpose in this grim moment. A voice as soft as the clouds yet filled with an undeniable authority resonates through the air, sending a shiver down Brandon's spine. It is both soothing and commanding, like a gentle breeze carrying the promise of an imminent storm.
"Arise, my chosen."
As Brandon's vision is obscured by blackness minutes before he is completely enveloped in darkness, everything around him is dark. He can feel the air around him thicken, and he hears a low, rumbling noise coming from somewhere in the distance. He struggles to stay conscious, but his eyes cannot see anything, his mind racing with fear. Brandon's chest tightens as he gasps for air one last time. His heart still beats against his rib cage. The absence of light weighs heavily on him, making him disoriented. The distant rumbling grows louder, echoing through his eardrums and adding to his sense of dread until abrupt silence.
Brandon stands motionless in the void, his eyes wide as if they've been staring out into the blackness for eternity. His expression is blank, yet there's a deep-seated weariness etched into his features, as though he's been trapped in this liminal space for far too long. It's as if part of him has forgotten what it feels like to be conscious, to be aware, leaving him in a perpetual state of suspended confusion. Suddenly, his body twitches and he quietly takes in the surroundings. A sense of fear and confusion washes over Brandon as he tries to make sense of his surroundings.
The darkness and his lack of awareness only intensify his disorientation, leaving him on edge and searching for any signs of familiarity. He touches the area around his face and eye where he was originally wounded, but they have disappeared. When Brandon notices this, he looks around in disbelief. A mixture of shock and confusion washes over Brandon's face as he searches for any sign of the once-visible wounds. Reaching out his hands, he feels for the texture of the ground under him, trying to determine if it is real or not.
Slowly, he stands up, taking careful steps forward, half expecting to stumble upon something solid. With each movement, he's hyper-aware, testing the limits of his new reality, hoping to find some clue about where he is and what has happened to him. Standing at 9'5 feet, the ghostly female figure emerges from the blackness in front of him with a closed-lip smile. There is something mysterious and dark about her beauty that stands out in the surrounding darkness.
The stark contrast between her mysterious and dark beauty and the surrounding darkness only serves to amplify her presence, making her appear even more enigmatic and captivating. His heart races, a mix of fear and fascination coursing through his veins. Looking up at the ghostly woman, Brandon can't tear his eyes away from her, feeling an inexplicable pull towards the ethereal figure. Despite the eerie atmosphere, he finds himself compelled to step closer, drawn by an unseen force.
Brandon says, "Y-You? I saw you before I died."
She nods slowly, her expression unreadable. He stares at her with a lost for words expression on his face. He looks away, before facing her once more.
"You're the grim reaper, aren't you?"
A soft, almost melancholic smile graced her lips, and she tilts her head slightly.
"Some have called me that," she murmurs, her voice like a whisper carried in the wind. "Ender, however, is the name the creator gave me."
Brandon's eyes widen in a mix of awe and trepidation as the weight of her words sinks in. His breath catches in his throat, and he takes a hesitant step back, grappling with the surreal reality before him.
"Ender," he repeats softly, the name lingering on his lips like a forbidden secret. "I'm assuming you're some kind of death goddess figure, right?"
Brandon looks around at the surrounding blackness. The surrounding blackness seems to stretch infinitely, an abyss devoid of any discernible features. Shadows dance and twist at the edges of his vision, creating an eerie, ever-shifting landscape. The air is thick and heavy, carrying a chilling silence that amplifies even the faintest of sounds, making his own heartbeat echo like a distant drum.
"Is this where we end up when we die?"
Shaking her head, Ender replies, "No."
Her eyes soften, and she takes a step closer to him, her movements graceful and almost otherworldly.
"This is but a passage," she replies, her voice gentle yet filled with an ancient wisdom. "Here, we are in the blur of life and death, my veil domain."
"As a prospect of life and death, I can give a second chance to those who deserve it, and condemn those who do not. That is the power of my veil domain."
Brandon stares at her with a lost for words expression on his face. He looks away, then a look on his face makes it clear that he doesn't fully understand his current situation. The lack of information or clarity Ender has regarding his current situation and her nonchalant attitude towards his death make him even more confused.
"Okayyy then. Well, have you decided?"
Ender sits on what appears to be nothingness, but something catches her bottom.
"First, I want to know why you killed yourself."
"Oh...that..."
Brandon takes a deep breath, struggling to find the words. His hands fidget nervously, fingers entwined and then pulling apart as if unsure of where to settle. He avoids her gaze, eyes darting to the peculiar landscape around them, seeking solace in anything but the question at hand. Finally, he swallows hard, debating whether to trust this enigmatic figure with the truth of his despair. Ender watches him intently, her eyes softening further, as if she can feel the turmoil churning within him.
"You don't have to speak if you're not ready," she says, her voice a soothing balm. "Sometimes, silence holds more truth than words ever could."
"I just... I don't want you to think less of me… even though we just met.," Brandon finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know it's a coward's way out, but I was so tired of fighting battles I couldn't win, of feeling like every step forward was met with two steps back." He pauses, glancing at Ender with a mix of fear and vulnerability, hoping she might understand the weight of his struggle.
Ender's expression softens even more, a deep empathy shining in her eyes. She nods slowly, acknowledging the enormity of his pain and the courage it took to voice it.
"Brandon," she murmurs gently, "there is no shame in feeling weary. Even the strongest of souls need rest and understanding."
She gives Brandon a look that offers comfort without intruding on his space.
"You are not alone in this," she assures him, her tone laced with compassion. "In my domain, every soul is worthy of a second chance, especially those who have bravely faced their own darkness."
Brandon takes a deep breath, feeling a slight easing of the tightness in his chest as Ender's understanding presence envelops him.
"It started with small things," he begins, his voice gaining strength. "Little failures that chipped away at my confidence, my being, until I felt buried under an avalanche of my own self-doubt." He pauses, drawing courage from Ender's unwavering gaze.
"It was hard to pretend everything was fine, but the facade grew heavier each day," he continues. "I guess it's just the constant weight that comes with being alive," he whispers, barely audible. "Everything felt meaningless, and I couldn't see a way out."
He continues, "For a long time, I searched and searched for a way to make myself feel like I was worth something."
FLASHBACK BEGINS:
With an emotionless/thoughtless expression, Brandon plays a blurred out PC game. It doesn't even seem like he's having fun, just accepting the distraction. The room is dimly lit, with the only source of light being the glow from the computer screen. The sound of clicking keys and the occasional sigh fill the air, creating a somber atmosphere. It's as if Brandon is seeking solace in the virtual world, finding an escape from the outside world that lacks joy and excitement.
"My college experience taught me that pursuing a career in something you love and doing what you love can lead you to hate what you thought you'd only love."
With tired eyes, Brandon stares into a bathroom mirror. As he gazes at his reflection, a mix of exhaustion and frustration washes over him. He wonders how he ended up feeling so drained and questions if there's any way to find solace in the midst of his chaotic life.
"I was reminded every day that I was wasting time and needed to act, but I could never find the motivation. I couldn't understand why I was feeling this way. I couldn't understand my own body and reason for doing anything. Kept asking myself the same questions, never receiving an answer from myself. I began to feel that my life was wasted and soon settled on the fact that it became worthless."
In a party teeming with laughter and chaos, Brandon sits off to the side, observing it blankly from a corner. The air is filled with a symphony of boisterous conversations and contagious laughter. People dance to the pulsating beat of the music, their movements intertwining with the vibrant colors of the disco lights. Glasses clink and cheers echo through the room, creating a joyful cacophony.
"I started to realize that the surface-level interactions I had with others weren't fulfilling my need for deep connection and emotional intimacy. Though, I doubt I would be able to recognize what that even is. The lack of meaningful conversations and shared experiences left me feeling isolated, even in the midst of a crowd."
As Brandon works hard in a warehouse, his hard work is always unseen and ends in failure. Each day, he feels a growing sense of frustration as his efforts go unrecognized and unrewarded. The physical strain of the labor only adds to his mental exhaustion, leaving him with little energy or hope for change. Despite his relentless toil, Brandon can't shake the feeling that he's caught in an endless loop of disappointment and futility.
"I used to think that if I kept working, it would eventually solve this feeling I couldn't describe then. However, it only made matters worse. My purpose, my reason for living, eluded me."
FLASHBACK ENDS:
A gloomy expression crosses Brandon's face as he rubs his chest. He feels a heavy weight pressing down on him, a mix of despair and hopelessness that seems impossible to escape. Thoughts of inadequacy and self-doubt swirl in his mind, making him question every choice that led him to this point.
"My ability to cry soon disappeared as I felt numb here. I tried to fight it, but I kept losing. I felt as if the curtain of life was closing in on me."
"It wasn't long before I realized I couldn't live being a failure to myself and my family. Eventually, with all of these feelings and emotions mustered up, I gathered the courage to actually do it."
Ender looks at Brandon with a considerate facial expression, listening to every word he says and really thinking about them.
"And what about now? How do you feel after doing it?"
Brandon looks down at his chest.
"I don't know…even my attempt was a failure, so what does that make me?"
His fingers trace the outline of an old scar across his chest, a painful reminder of a moment when he almost gave up. The internal battle he fights every day is exhausting, a constant push and pull between the desire to improve and the overwhelming fear of never being enough.
"I guess the same…"
"No, it makes you a survivor. It didn't work out for a reason. You have a purpose. It makes you someone with a second chance to be better." Ender responds sternly.
Ender puts one leg over the other and leans forward in her invisible seat, taking a closer look at Brandon.
"What if I asked if you'd do it all again? To once again participate in the cycle we call life."
Brandon quickly looks at Ender with a sparkle of hope but then it fades away and he looks down. He closes his eyes and tries to push back the fear, but it lingers and threatens to engulf him. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to speak.
"To go through it all again…"
"I'm assuming that involves forgetting my family, friends, everything…"
"Feels wrong."
Ender pauses, taking a moment to process Brandon's heartfelt admission. Her eyes soften with understanding, and she nods gently, acknowledging the depth of his struggle.
"But those memories are what drove you down this path, perhaps not the good ones, but evidently the memories of your life and all the decisions you've made." she says softly, offering a small, supportive smile, "Sometimes starting anew doesn't mean forgetting; it means carrying forward what truly matters."
"Those that you've had a bond, connection with have already been abandoned by your suicide. They will never understand why you did what you did and will suffer from the pain caused by your absence. All you can do now is hope that they can find peace."
"Moving forward is the only option you have now."
Brandon looks down with a sad expression on his face.
"I know but-"
As Ender gazes at Brandon, her eyes soften, noticing the sadness etched on his face. In a blink, her form shrinks to his height, and before he can fully process the change, she appears directly in front of him. Gently, she places her finger beneath his chin, lifting his head so their eyes meet, offering a silent connection amidst the confusion.
"You weren't brought here for criticism, Brandon. So, let me tell you the real reason for being here, my chosen."
Ender slowly moves her finger from his chin, letting her touch linger for a moment before stepping back slightly. Her eyes never leave his, maintaining that silent connection, as if encouraging him to trust her presence. Brandon's eyes well up with tears, and his lip trembles as he absorbs Ender's words. He feels a mixture of guilt, shame, and a flicker of hope ignited by her compassion. His shoulders shake slightly as he nods, acknowledging the truth in what she says, and he clings to the idea of moving forward for the sake of those he loves.
"I picked you as my chosen because there is a lot of resemblance between you and my daughter, Mizeria." Ender continues, "In the same way as you, she struggled to appreciate herself and the sincerity she brought to the world. Her struggle with self-appreciation stemmed from a deep-seated belief that her worth was contingent upon the validation and approval of others."
"She constantly sought external validation, dismissing her own accomplishments and disregarding the genuine impact she had on those around her."
Brandon looks up at Ender, listening to her words intently. Brandon's chest tightens with a whirlwind of emotions—regret for the pain he has caused, fear of the unknown path ahead, and a fragile glimmer of hope that starts to warm his heart. His mind races, but he tries to anchor himself in the present moment, drawing strength from Ender's unwavering gaze.
"Under my nose she was corrupted by an ancient enemy, who manipulated her to do something that would change everything, creating a weapon that could kill me and any god."
"This weapon is known as sin and it alone added fuel to a war that will now last long after me..."
"Unless it is destroyed, all the light remaining in my universe and everything else known will cease to exist."
Ender stares intently into Brandon's eyes.
"You are the one I've chosen to end it."
Brandon backs up, caught off guard. His heart races, and his eyes widen in surprise. He stumbles slightly, struggling to regain his balance.
"M-Me? W-Why."
"I may be a god but sin is a weapon even I cannot face alone." Ender further explains.
Brandon's face is slightly panicked. His breathing quickens, and a bead of sweat trickles down his temple. His hands tremble slightly, and his eyes dart around.
"I-I don't understand. Aren't you THEE god of like everything? You are literal death."
Ender's eyes narrow slightly, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. Her expression is a mix of amusement and condescension, as if she finds Brandon's fear both entertaining and pitiable.
"In the wake of mortal's discovery of sin, many ceased paying homage to us and abandoned their rituals."
"This is how it soaked into their minds and caused isolation between us. They believed a malign power such as this could not exist and blamed us for it."
"And they were right, in the face of this new weapon, we are indeed powerless. Especially without the faith of God's creatures."
Brandon looks at Ender with panic as he struggles to find any sense in him being chosen to save Ender's daughter and what seems to also be an entire world.
"Your-Your still not answer my question. Ender, why-why ME?! I just told you about my self hatred, loneliness, my powerlessness…"
Brandon begins to cry and is shocked to see himself doing so.
"W-What...I'm-I'm crying…"
Ender's smirk fades, replaced with a look of contemplation. She steps closer to Brandon, her tone softening slightly.
"It's precisely because of your struggles that you were chosen."
Ender grabs Brandon's hands passionately. She stares into his eyes with a gaze that is full of emotion.
"You and Mizeria come from chaotic worlds where everyday was a fight to seek who you are and keep it."
"Even in doing so, you both saved and brought so many smiles to people's faces."
"The kindness and good-hearted acts you two have consistently done for those you knew and didn't change so many lives."
Ender's sincere words strike deep in Brandon's heart as he continues to cry uncontrollably.
"You two were meant to be beautiful."
Ender kneels, still holding onto Brandon's hands.
"I may be a god but I am humble enough to know when I'm asking too much of someone."
"What I'm asking of you is a task that'll be dangerous, painful, and may even leave you broken again…"
"W-" Brandon mutters in his head.
Coming closer to Brandon's height, Ender places her forehead against his hands.
She pleads, "But I beg you to consider it, Brandon. I will give you everything you wish for if you help me bring back my lost child."
"Stop, stop, please I don't wan-" Brandon pleads in his thoughts.
As he listens to her pleading words, he is lost for words.
"Please, Brandon, please save my daughter for I am unworthy of bringing her back. " Ender persists.
"Why-why should I when-" Brandon says in thought.
Brandon's hands quiver while Ender holds them.
"I'm not responsible for Ender's mistakes and she isn't responsible for mine. There's no reason for me to help her. It's up to her to fix her problems…"
"Even with that said, why do I feel like I should lend a hand? Perhaps it's because deep down, I empathize with her struggles and understand the importance of compassion and support..."
"But sometimes extending a helping hand can make all the difference in someone's life."
FLASHBACK BEGINS:
Brandon appears at a park sitting, staring at a large water decoration in the middle of a pond. Children are playing nearby, their laughter echoing through the air. The sun is beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow over the peaceful landscape. Ducks swim lazily in the pond, creating gentle ripples that disturb the otherwise serene surface.
"Even though I knew my life and being weren't worth it, I wanted someone, anyone, to feel valued by me."
Brandon stares at the water decoration. The water cascades gently over a series of smooth stones, creating a soothing, rhythmic sound. Delicate plants strategically placed around the base, their leaves glistening with mist.
"I wanted someone to recognize my worth, and to treat me with respect and kindness."
"I wanted to have someone in my life who would understand my struggles and support me."
"I wanted someone to be my rock and my safe haven."
"But this worth I'm trying to find...I don't think it's something a mother, father, or lover can provide."
"I think this worth must come from within, and it is something we must strive to find. Something found in the satisfaction of our own accomplishments and in the way we take care of ourselves."
FLASHBACK ENDS:
Brandon places a hand over Ender's soft hands.
"It is in our self-love and self-care that we will find our worth. At least I think anyway." His thoughts recede.
In a soft voice, Brandon finally says, "Okay...Okay."
Ender is given a genuine smile by Brandon. Ender's heart warms at Brandon's genuine smile, and a sense of relief washes over her. It's as if a heavy weight has been lifted from her shoulders, and she feels a spark of hope ignite within her, knowing that she has someone who truly cares about her problem.
"Thank you."
"N-No problem..." Brandon replies with a flustered expression.
Ender stands back up and they let go of each other.
"Where you're going, you will need three things to survive."
As Ender stands up, she looks at Brandon with a sincere warning expression on her face. Ender's warning expression conveys a sense of urgency and concern, suggesting that there may be a lurking danger ahead.
"Power, Connection, and Ambition."
A cautionary expression appears on Brandon's face as he listens to her intently.
"The journey you're about to embark on will teach and give you all these things and more." she adds.
Ender looks at Brandon.
"Are you ready to depart?"
Brandon meets Ender's gaze with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. He hesitates for a moment before offering a tentative look.
"When will I see you again?"
Ender hesitates for a moment before offering a tender smile.
"I'll make sure to stay close to you in many ways."
Brandon ponders her response but is interrupted when she places her index finger against his forehead. He feels a surge of adrenaline run down his spine and feels a sensation like electricity buzzing through his body. The presence of her fills his body with magical energy of which he cannot describe but it is soothing his thoughts and his soul.
"Listen carefully, my chosen, every aspect of life starts from zero."
"From zero…" Brandon repeats.
"Yes."
Colorful magic suddenly swirls around them, dispelling the blackness surrounding them.
"This is your chance to begin again and transform."
"Make positive changes and strive to be the best version of yourself."
"Believe in yourself and don't let anyone or anything stop you. Because you are capable of achieving great things."
Although the swirling magic is intense, Brandon gazes at Ender with a grateful expression. Ender's face radiates gentleness and kindness. He is drawn to her gentle aura and captivated by her warm eyes. He feels relief as he realizes that Ender is the right person to help him.
"Ender…"
Ender gazes at Brandon intently, her eyes focused and her body leaning slightly forward in anticipation.
"Yes?"
"Thank you." Brandon humbly says.
Ender is taken aback by the unexpected gesture and couldn't help but smile back. Brandon's genuine kindness made her feel seen and appreciated. It was an unexpected act of kindness that lifted the spirits of both Brandon and Ender.
Ender smiles softly as she watches Brandon look around at the swirling magic. He can feel the energy in the air. He is in awe of the power that emanates from it. He feels himself being pulled in, as if he is part of something larger than himself.
"Despite my own uncertainty about your future, I'm only able to offer you this small amount of guidance. When it is time, find my apostle and learn from her wisdom."
"Follow her guidance and accept her knowledge. She will help you understand the world and your own purpose in it."
Brandon closes his eyes and allows himself to drift away as he listens to Ender's echoing voice. He feels a calmness come over him, as if he is in tune with something greater. Brandon opens his eyes and finds himself standing in the middle of a field of flowers with Ender. The field stretches out before them, a vibrant carpet of colorful blossoms swaying gently in the breeze. Each flower, with its delicate petals and intoxicating fragrance, adds a touch of whimsy and beauty to the enchanting scene. Brandon takes a deep breath, in awe of their unexpected surroundings. As they stand there, he realizes for the first time that anything is possible.
"And my chosen…"
Intently watching Ender, Brandon awaits her next words.
"Be careful of those who call themselves, The Forgotten Gods." Ender says ominously. "They aren't as forgiving as I am."
Before Brandon could say anything, the vibrant field of flowers dissolves into darkness, enveloping him in an inky void. He feels weightless, as if floating in an endless abyss, until a blinding flash of light pierces the darkness. When the light fades, he finds himself in a cozy, warm embrace, blinking up at unfamiliar faces. A soft lullaby fills the air, and he realizes that he is in a cradle, watching blurred figures, one male and one female, standing over him.
"W-Where am I?" Brandon asks in his thoughts.
The blurred woman places her hand on his forehead and smiles. While the blurred man steps closer and places a hand on her shoulder. They both gaze down at Baby Samwith loving eyes. As Baby Sam giggles and babbles, the blurred figures begin to clear up, revealing hints of Xavier and Maria.
Xavierstands tall with a muscular build, his armor gleaming in the soft light. His hair is cut short, parting at the top in a way that resembles wolf fangs, giving him a fierce yet noble appearance. Two scars run near his chin, mirroring the fang-like pattern, adding an air of rugged strength to his already formidable presence. Around Xavier's neck piece, a luxurious collar of white wolf fur adds a majestic touch to his armor. The fur, soft and pristine, contrasts sharply against the dark leather and metal, highlighting his commanding presence.
Maria and her milky skin glows with an ethereal radiance, accentuating her delicate features. She wears a stunning white and black top that perfectly complements her graceful figure, while a see-through skirt adorned with intricate white lotuses cascades elegantly to the ground. The floral patterns seem to dance as she moves, adding an enchanting aura to her presence beside Xavier. Maria's expression is one of serene joy, her lips curving into a gentle smile that radiates warmth and affection. Her eyes, soft and filled with tenderness, reflect a deep sense of peace and contentment as she looks down at Baby Sam. Her demeanor exudes a calm elegance, as if she carries the wisdom of a thousand gentle waves, perfectly balancing Xavier's formidable strength with her own quiet grace.
With his short baby arms, he reaches out to touch them. As he attempts to grasp the people in front of him, Brandon notices the tiny, pudgy fingers that barely respond to his will. The sight of his delicate baby hands, so different from the ones he remembers. Sam looks at his tiny hands with a mixture of curiosity and confusion, noticing the lighter shade of dark brown that now colors his skin. He slowly turns his hands over, examining the difference from the deep black he had known before. The unfamiliar hue fascinates him, yet a sense of familiarity and belonging begins to settle in as he gazes back at Xavier and Maria.
"A-Are those my hands? Why are they so small and-"
Baby Sam looks down to see his baby feet wiggling. He is both amazed and bewildered by the tiny feet moving of their own accord. Another babble escapes him as he wiggles his toes, the sensation unfamiliar yet oddly delightful.
"Woah-Woah-Haha- This is actually pretty freaky- Haha."
The soft glow of the evening sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. The air was filled with peace and quiet happiness, punctuated only by the gentle babbling of the baby.
"WAIT, I'M A BABY?????!!!!!!!!!"
To Be Continued.