I woke up in silence.
Not the comforting kind—but the kind that felt like the world had taken a breath too deep and forgotten to exhale. The sky above me was pale, stripped of its familiar blue. The clouds were frozen, as if time itself had stalled.
My body felt light.
Too light.
I stood up slowly and looked around. The ruins were gone. No symbols. No fractures in reality. No screaming sky. Only a wide field of gray grass and distant buildings standing whole—untouched, as if nothing had ever happened.
"So… the world survived."
My voice sounded unfamiliar, even to me.
I looked down at my right wrist.
The chain of the contract was still there.
But it was different.
No glow. No heat. No pulse. It looked dull, ancient—like rusted iron on the verge of crumbling. When I touched it, there was no pain. No warning. No whisper.
That was when I realized something far more terrifying.
I felt nothing.
No relief.
No fear.
No sorrow.
Empty.
I tried to remember how it felt when the white light swallowed me. I knew it should have hurt. I knew it should have been terrifying. But the memory came without emotion—like reading about someone else's life.
I walked toward the city.
People moved through the streets—talking, laughing, sighing, arguing. Emotions were written clearly on their faces.
Yet when I watched them… nothing resonated within me.
A child bumped into me and fell.
"Ouch!"
I helped him up, my movements automatic, like an old script my body still remembered.
"Thank you, mister!" he said with a bright smile.
I returned the smile.
Or at least, I knew I was supposed to.
Because I didn't feel it.
At a coffee shop, I sat for a long time watching people. The clinking of spoons, the hum of machines, casual conversations—everything was there. The world was alive.
And slowly, a realization crept in.
They didn't look at me.
Not because I was invisible—but because I was irrelevant.
"What would you like to order?" the barista asked.
I opened my mouth.
And stopped.
I didn't know what I liked.
I didn't know what I wanted.
"Just water," I said finally.
She nodded, indifferent. As if I were just another shadow passing through a busy day.
As I left the shop, a sharp thought pierced my mind.
I tried to remember my name.
Nothing.
I knew I once had one. I knew someone had spoken it with meaning. But when I reached for it—my mind slid over empty space.
There was nothing to hold.
I stopped in the middle of the street.
I saved the world.
But the world doesn't remember I exist.
And worse—
I barely remember myself.
The chain around my wrist trembled faintly for the first time since I woke.
A familiar whisper, weak and nearly dead, echoed in my mind.
"This is only the beginning of the true price."