The alley was quiet again.
Too quiet.
Only the faint sound of dripping water echoed in the darkness.
The boy leaned against the wall, his breathing slowly stabilizing.
"…That was close…"
His body still trembled.
Not from fear.
From exhaustion.
If they had chased a little longer—
"…I'd be dead."
A simple conclusion.
No emotion.
Just fact.
"…Hic…"
A soft sound broke the silence.
Small.
Fragile.
Crying.
The boy's eyes shifted.
"…Someone's here?"
Slowly, carefully, he pushed himself up, using the wall for support.
Each step was unsteady.
But controlled.
He followed the sound.
Step by step.
Until—
He saw him.
In the corner of a narrow dead end, curled into himself—
A child.
No older than three.
Thin.
Dirty.
Shaking.
Tears streaked across his small face as he tried—unsuccessfully—to suppress his sobs.
"…Hic… m-mom…"
The boy froze.
Not because of the crying.
Not because of the situation.
But because of—
Those eyes.
The smaller child slowly lifted his head.
And for a brief moment—
Their gazes met.
The world stopped.
"…That… eye…"
Clear.
Deep.
Carrying something that didn't belong to a child.
A strange, quiet weight.
The boy's pupils trembled.
"…No…"
Recognition hit.
Sudden.
Violent.
Absolute.
"…That's impossible…"
His grip tightened against the wall.
That face—
That presence—
Even in this broken state—
He knew it.
There was no doubt.
"…The First Emperor…"
The words barely escaped his lips.
The crying child flinched slightly, not understanding.
But the boy—
He understood too well.
In the novel—
The one who unified the world.
The one who stood above all heroes.
The one who built the first empire from nothing.
A legend.
A symbol.
A ruler history itself bowed to.
And right now—
"…He's… here?"
A trembling laugh almost escaped him.
"…In a slum…?"
No.
Not just a slum.
His gaze slowly widened.
The pieces—
Finally—
Connected.
The alley.
The decay.
The suffocating atmosphere.
The wandering knight.
This child.
"…This place…"
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"…This isn't ordinary."
His heart began to pound.
Faster.
Louder.
"…This is where it begins."
Not a guess.
Not a theory.
A realization.
"…The birthplace of heroes…"
The place where legends—before they were legends—were nothing more than abandoned children.
Cold.
Hungry.
Forgotten.
"…And I'm here."
A chill ran down his spine.
Not from the cold.
From understanding.
If this was truly that place—
Then everything he knew…
Every future event…
Every legend…
All started—
Here.
His gaze slowly lowered.
To his own hands.
Small.
Fragile.
Dirty.
"…Then… who am I?"
The question he had avoided.
The one he didn't want to face.
Now—
He had no choice.
If the First Emperor was here as a child—
Then timelines weren't broken.
They were intact.
Which meant—
He wasn't a random existence.
Not a side character.
Not an accident.
"…No…"
His breathing grew unstable.
"…No, no… don't tell me…"
A memory surfaced.
A name.
Not the protagonist.
Not the emperor.
But someone else.
Someone rarely mentioned.
Someone buried in history.
"…The one who started it…"
The founder.
The origin.
The one before all heroes.
The one who created the bloodline that would later produce the main protagonist.
His fingers trembled.
"…The ancestor…"
His chest tightened.
"…The first…"
Realization struck.
Complete.
Unavoidable.
"…That's me?"
Silence.
Heavy.
Crushing.
Emotion exploded all at once.
Relief.
He wasn't nobody.
Excitement.
He had a role.
Fear.
A massive one.
Anger.
At the situation.
Disbelief.
At the absurdity.
Pressure.
Like a mountain on his shoulders.
"…This is insane…"
His legs nearly gave out.
"…Fifty thousand years…"
"…The origin of everything…"
"…And I'm supposed to… what?"
Survive?
Lead?
Create a legacy?
His breathing quickened.
"…No… this is too much…"
Panic crept in.
Sharp.
Relentless.
This wasn't a game.
This wasn't a story he could just read.
This was—
Reality.
And failure—
Meant death.
Not just his.
But everything that came after.
"…Hic…"
The soft crying pulled him back.
The small child was still there.
Still trembling.
Still alone.
The future emperor.
The one who would stand above the world.
Right now—
Was nothing more than a scared, broken child.
"…Tch…"
The boy closed his eyes briefly.
Then opened them again.
Calm.
Not fully.
But enough.
"…Get a grip."
He exhaled slowly.
One step at a time.
That's all he could do.
The future didn't matter right now.
Titles didn't matter.
Destiny didn't matter.
Only—
This moment.
He took a step forward.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The smaller child flinched, shrinking back.
"…D-don't…"
The boy stopped.
Then crouched down.
Keeping distance.
Not threatening.
"…Stop crying."
His voice was quiet.
Flat.
But not cold.
The child sniffled, staring at him with wide, fearful eyes.
"…Y-you're scary…"
"…I know."
A simple answer.
No denial.
The boy looked at him.
Really looked.
This was the beginning of a legend.
And yet—
"…You look pathetic."
The words slipped out.
Honest.
Blunt.
The child's lips trembled.
Tears welled up again.
"…B-but…"
"…But you're alive."
The boy cut him off.
Silence fell.
"…That's enough."
The child blinked.
Confused.
"…If you're alive," the boy continued quietly, "then you haven't lost yet."
The words weren't kind.
But they weren't cruel either.
They were—
Real.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then slowly—
The crying stopped.
Not completely.
But enough.
The child wiped his tears clumsily.
"…O-okay…"
The boy watched him.
Then, after a pause—
"…Good."
He shifted slightly, sitting down across from him.
Not too close.
Not too far.
A silent understanding forming.
Above them, the dark sky remained unchanged.
But in that forgotten corner of the slum—
Two existences sat facing each other.
One—
A future emperor.
The other—
The origin of legends.
Neither fully understood what they would become.
But something had already begun.
A connection.
A starting point.
A thread that would one day shape the world.