So, I died.
Huh.
I figured it would end like this.
I knew the moment I pulled the trigger on that piece of garbage, my fate was sealed. But I don't regret it. Not for a second.
My life was never really mine. I lived for my family—what little I had. My grandparents were gone before I was even born. My father died when I was seven, killed in an enemy strike during his service in the military.
His death crushed my mother and me. But she never let it show. For my sake, she stood tall. She worked herself to the bone, gave up everything, and only ever asked one thing of me: Make us proud. Her and Dad.
After high school, I set my sights on becoming an engineer. But dreams don't pay the bills. A few years in, money ran dry, and I had to drop out.
Then came the blow that shattered everything—my mother was diagnosed with cancer. I felt the world collapsing around me. But I didn't fall. I couldn't.
She had carried me this far. It was my turn to carry her.
I used my father's old contacts to enlist. Military life suited me. The discipline, the structure—I thrived. I rose through the ranks and studied on the side—engineering, hacking, coding—anything I could get my hands on.
With my pay, I funded her treatment. And it worked. She recovered. I finally felt at peace, like I had done something right.
But life doesn't care about peace.
War broke out, and I was deployed. When I came back… she was gone.
Dead.
Not from sickness. Not an accident.
Murdered.
Brutally. Tortured.
The grief was unbearable. But when I learned the truth, grief turned to rage. Her killer was no stranger—it was the son of one of my father's old enemies. We'd crossed paths before, exchanged words, even fists. I hadn't realized he'd climb the ladder like I did, hiding behind ranks and waiting for his moment.
And when he struck, he made sure no one could touch him.
Except me.
I had nothing left to lose. So I planned. Carefully. Methodically. I got close. And I ended him.
I knew what would come next. He had power. Allies. Influence. My death was inevitable.
And yet... as I stood at the edge, awaiting my punishment, a bitter thought lingered.
I never got to live for myself.
Just once, I wanted to choose my own path—not live in someone else's shadow, not fight someone else's battles.
As I drifted into the void, memories of my life flashing before me, I saw a light—blinding and pure—racing toward me.
Then came the pain.
Agony.
Like every wound I'd ever suffered, magnified a thousandfold. My thoughts fractured. My screams were endless.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—
And then…
Nothing.
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