The Memory That Shouldn't Exist
Thirty years of experience.
Thirty years of knowledge.
All of it—carried intact into a future that should never have been his again.
A wide grin spread across his face.
"I'll use it properly this time."
His voice was calm, confident, almost amused as if he were gazing at a familiar road rather than an unknown fate. After all, nothing ahead of him was truly a mystery anymore.
"It won't be the same this time, my dear Sandra," he murmured softly.
"This time… I'll conquer it all."
........
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder in the corridor. Moments later, the door creaked open.
"Mom?!"
Artha entered the room, carrying a bundle of folded clothes. She placed them on the bed before walking over to her son and offering her hand. He hesitated for a brief moment before taking it, allowing her to help him up.
"Let's get you dressed," she said gently. "Then we'll visit Sister Milia. I've already made an appointment. She may be a low-level healer, but she can take care of those wounds."
"..."
"Mom," he said after a pause, "wait outside. I can get dressed myself. Just give me two minutes."
"But Sai—" Before she could finish, he carefully stepped down from the bed and nudged her toward the door.
Artha stopped, studied his face for a moment, then sighed quietly.
"Alright." She stepped out and closed the door behind her.
It was normal for a mother to dress her child. But Saito wasn't truly a child, not anymore. Behind the fragile frame of a twelve year old boy lived the mind of a forty two year old man. No matter even if she was her mother, the idea made him deeply uncomfortable.
After she went out, he heard her footsteps stop just outside the room.
"This won't work," he muttered.
Raising his voice, he called out, "Mom! My muscles are acting up again, aching a bit. Let's go later, after it loosens up."
"…Okay, Sai," Artha replied after a moment, realising his intentions.
"Call me when you're ready."
She knew it was an excuse. She also knew something about her son had changed suddenly and unmistakably. Still, she chose not to press him.
Her footsteps faded away.
"One… two… gone."
Now being alone, Saito sat down slowly and closed his eyes.
"Let's see what condition my spiritual core is in."
He visualized a thin line forming at his forehead, descending through his body. At the same time, multiple lines extended from his arms and legs, converging toward a single point in his chest.
The moment they met, a faint wave of light rippled outward.
The point at his chest expanded, glowing brighter with each steady breath. His thoughts narrowed. His concentration deepened.
White light surged outward.
Then—
it twisted.
The color drained away.
And everything turned black.
The darkness didn't surprise him.
It should have been light. That was how awakenings always began.
Most people never remembered it, the night when their breathing slowed, when consciousness hovered between sleep and wakefulness.
But those who did remember described the same thing: an endless darkness behind closed eyes.
If you focused on it, lines appeared.
Thin at first. Almost imaginary.
Light bloomed.
Color defined everything.
Green meant Earth.
Blue meant Water.
Yellow meant Lightning.
Red meant Fire.
That was how it was supposed to go.
Saito watched the familiar white glow expand from his core and felt his chest tighten.
Then the color collapsed.
Not faded. Not dimmed. It turned black.
"…So it really did follow me."
Only a handful of people in the world even knew such a color existed. Fewer still understood what it meant.
Officially, Dark and Divine affinities were labeled as theoretical. Rumors. Myths.
In reality, they were buried.
Dark meant fear.
Necromancy. Undead contracts. Power that disrupted balance.
Those discovered with it didn't last long. Either erased, imprisoned, or used as warnings.
Divine wasn't any better.
Those were dragged into temples and councils, paraded as symbols, stripped of choice until nothing human remained beneath the reverence.
That was why people like him learned early.
Hide.
Suppress.
Blend in.
"So it's still there…"
Saito exhaled in relief. "Thank the heavens."
He had possessed the same aptitude in his previous life and survived only because he knew how to suppress the dark aura leaking from his body.
Right now, he lacked the mana to perform that technique. But the aura was weak, dormant, manageable.
"I'll deal with it later." Satisfied, he opened his eyes, dressed quickly, and stepped out of his room.