The battlefield, the sound, the heat—gone.
Fray stood now in a wide, sunlit plain. Warm wind brushed against his skin. Grass swayed softly in all directions.
"To affect me like this…" Fray murmured under his breath, "…it must be a spirit from the Seventh rank. One that specializes in spiritual invasion."
Fray turned his attention to a single massive tree stood nearby, its roots twisting deep into the earth.
And beneath that tree…
A child sat.
Small. Frail.
Dark-haired.
His head was bowed, arms wrapped around his knees, quiet sobs escaping between trembling breaths.
Fray stared, his heartbeat steady.
That's me. My child self.
Slowly, Fray walked toward the boy and knelt beside him. He placed a gentle hand on the child's shoulder, voice low but calm.
"Everything will be okay."
The boy didn't lift his head at first.
Then, in a barely audible voice, he muttered, "Stop lying."
He raised his face—innocent features twisted in pain, tears trailing down.
