Deep within a void of endless darkness, where no light could exist, where time itself seemed smothered and devoured, the storm raged.
It was a storm without sound, without wind, without lightning. A storm of shadows, thrashing and twisting, tearing at itself in eternal agony. The darkness writhed, alive with something ancient and restless, yet no voice, no echo, no cry emerged from its rage.
And through this storm of nothingness, a single white string descended.
The string stretched downward, impossibly long, gleaming faintly against the all-consuming black. It trembled with speed, cutting through the storm as though it alone carried meaning within the void. And at its base, tethered like a falling star chained by its own light, was a boy.
He was not conscious of his fall, not yet. His small frame drifted as though weightless, though the speed of descent was merciless. His eyes were closed, lashes resting against pale cheeks. His body bore wounds, scratches, bruises, and deeper marks that hinted at battles lost. His skin was the color of moonlight, stark against his jet-black hair that trailed in the downward current.
He wore what once might have been a student uniform. The top half clung to him still, though torn and frayed, stained by things he could not name. The lower half, however, was gone, obliterated, as if burned or ripped away, leaving only the long white thread behind, flowing endlessly downward. It was not clear whether it was cloth, rope, or something else entirely.
Time had no meaning here. But after some measureless interval, the boy stirred.
His fingers twitched. His eyelids quivered. Slowly, heavily, his eyes opened.
For a moment, there was no thought. His gaze met the endless dark, yet nothing met him in return. His pupils widened, but no horizon, no shape, no star revealed itself. Only the storm, silent and furious.
At last, he spoke. His voice was quiet, distant, like a memory of a voice rather than sound itself:
"Where… am I?"
There was no answer. Only the constant pull of his fall.
Confusion stirred faintly within him, though his expression remained flat, indifferent. It was as though even his bewilderment had been dulled. Before he could think further, pain lanced through his body, sharp and unforgiving. It burned across his right side, deep within the joint of his shoulder. He hissed quietly, as if even his suffering needed to remain hidden.
Cautiously, he raised his left arm. His fingers reached across to touch the source of the pain. But when his hand searched for his right arm, there was nothing. Only air. Only absence.
His chest tightened. Still, he searched again, desperately this time, as though denial alone could make it real. And then his palm brushed against something at the very edge of his shoulder, something slick, pulsing, leaking warmth that spread across his skin like blood. The realization came instantly, and with it, a strange calm.
"my....my arm? why is it gone?"
The words escaped his lips in the same quiet tone, carried without sorrow or anger. A smile tugged faintly at his mouth, not of joy but of resignation, perhaps even relief.
"What happened to me…?"
The question hung in the void. But just as before, no answer came.
He searched his memory. He reached into the fog of his mind, tried to remember where he had been before this endless fall. But each attempt dissolved into nothing. Every thread he grasped slipped through his fingers, unraveling before it could form. His mind was blank. Hollow. It was as if he had been born here, falling, with no past and no origin.
Strange, yes. But he did not linger. There was a heaviness in him, a fatigue that pressed against his very will. Instead, he forced his thoughts to shift.
It was then that he felt it.
A rush of movement. Swift. Subtle. Almost imperceptible. A shadow brushed past him, not touching but close enough to stir the air. His breath caught, though his face remained calm, unmoved.
"What was that?"
The thought came and went. His expression did not change.
Another followed. Then another. More and more, slipping past him, weaving through the raging darkness. Shapes unseen, but their presence undeniable. Each one different, some carried immense weight, as though dragging entire worlds in their wake, while others moved with such speed they vanished before his mind could register them. Though invisible, he knew instinctively that they were not the same. Each presence was unique. Each carried its own essence.
Yet not one of them noticed him. They passed as if he did not exist. As if he were nothing more than another thread of the void.
"Maybe I'm just… not worth the effort," he mused, half-heartedly. The words were meant as comfort, but they fell flat, meaningless. Instead of lifting him, the thought dragged him deeper into despair. His chest ached—not from pain, but from the emptiness spreading within him. Hope unraveled further.
Silence stretched. More shadows passed. He said nothing, thought nothing, until at last the quiet broke again, his voice nearly swallowed by the void:
"am i ever going to stop falling?"
The words had barely left him when something stirred far below.
A light.
Faint at first, but growing, swelling, cutting through the black. White and blue, radiant, pulsing with energy. Around its edges shimmered a soft, glowing aura tinged in violet, as though it bled into the void itself. The storm bent and recoiled from it, as if unwilling to touch its brilliance.
The boy's eyes widened, his indifference faltering at last. His lips curved upward, a small, fragile smile breaking across his face.
"is that....."
For the first time since he opened his eyes, hope stirred within him. Weak, trembling, but real. The light called to him.
And he kept falling, straight toward it.
After what felt like several minutes, the boy fell into the light. He squeezed his eyes shut against its blinding brilliance and braced himself for whatever waited on the other side.
But something was wrong.
Just before he crossed through, he felt it, something cold and metallic crawling across his skin. It slithered along him like a creature forged of iron, fastening itself onto his body.
And then he was through.
The sensation of his surroundings shifted instantly. No longer did he feel the hollow emptiness of the void, now, everything was heavy, suffocating, wet.
He tried to breathe. But instead of air, water surged into his nostrils, choking him. His eyes flew open.
He was submerged in a vast ocean, illuminated by the blazing light of the sun above. Warm water wrapped around him, clear and shimmering, pleasant enough to swim in, if not for the panic rising in his chest.
He tilted his head back. The surface shimmered high above, impossibly far, the only place where breath still existed.
His heart lurched. He lingered for just a moment, then began swimming upward, knowing he had no time to waste.
But something resisted.
His body refused to rise. He kicked harder, thrashed with every ounce of strength he had, but still, he remained trapped at the same depth. A weight dragged him down.
Turning to his right, he finally saw it.
His body was clearer now in the watery light, every wound and cut visible across his pale skin. And where his right arm had been missing before, there was something new. A metallic arm. Sleek, unnatural, gleaming with a faint light in the ocean's depths.
In any other circumstance, it might have been a miracle. Here, it was a curse.
"You've got to be kidding me…" he thought bitterly. "Was this the thing that crawled over me before?"
No matter how desperately he fought, the arm pulled him back. His efforts only churned the water around him. His chest burned. His lungs screamed. The surface never drew closer.
It wouldn't be long before he drowned.
"Seems like my luck's run out… not that I had any."
The thought carried no anger, only resignation. His movements slowed. He stopped fighting. Slowly, he let himself sink, his gaze drifting across the ocean floor one last time.
It was beautiful.
A coral reef glowed faintly beneath him, vibrant and alive, though much of it was hidden behind a massive stone wall. The wall was colossal—stretching endlessly in either direction, higher than any building he had ever seen, as thick as an entire apartment block. It loomed like an ancient barrier carved to cage the sea itself.
"Huh… at least I'll die in a pretty place."
The small, tired smile returned to his lips. He inhaled one last time, and water flooded his lungs, icy and merciless. The ocean claimed him. His vision darkened.
But just before consciousness slipped away, something stirred.
The wall surrounding the reef… moved.