Prologue - My Transcendence

Prologue

I wasn’t chosen to be the hero.

But while hovering over the ruins of that familiar city — where people once walked, argued, laughed, cried… I understood something.

Sometimes it wasn't about being chosen.

It was about choosing to.

My body, my mind, my soul — all were one. No uncertainty. No noise. Just understanding, as clear as black on white. Not because I was older in age, but because time no longer mattered.

"Who are you?"

A rasping voice came from a humanoid figure in the distance that hung mid-flight. A voice that once filled the sky with confidence; now taken by confusion and frustration — and beneath it the first signs of despair.

"Why isn't your body breaking?” He shouted, his voice hoarse. “How are you still standing?"

I looked at my hands.

The answer was right there. An aura shimmered, engulfing my hands, my body, all at once, a light of a trillion crystals, flowing like liquid in perfect harmony — every color imagined, dense, shifting, and complete.

"Answer me!"

My glowing eyes didn’t twitch, nor did my expression scream aggression. The aura engulfing me radiated in serenity as I answered in complete repose.

"I am who I am," my voice calm, not a trace of belligerence, "my body is breaking. But it is not broken."

As the words left my lips, my body moved of its own accord. He didn’t have time to process; time itself didn’t have time to acknowledge my movement.

I closed the distance between us. My fist struck his face cleanly. His sturdy frame hit the concrete — or what remained of it — like a meteor. The impact sent dust rolling outward in a dense, chaotic cloud, shockwaves radiating from the point of contact. Before it could settle, I was already standing over him, my expression unchanged.

My foot pressed down on his bare chest; gone was his black-and-red suit. His eyes swam with disorientation as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

"Before I finish this," I said quietly, "I want you to know something."

Dust drifted between us.

"I don't hate you."

As these words left my mouth, his expression twisted into total despair.

"How could I hate,” I pressed down harder, leaning closer, “something so weak.”

— End of Prologue —