It was difficult to understand, even for those living it, how the entire world could fall silent at once.
Only one city kept its lights alive that night. Millions stood in the streets, all dressed in black, humans, elves, dwarves, dragons, demi-gods. No one uttered a word. Their eyes carried pain, exhaustion, and the kind of grief that made even the strongest tremble.
All of them faced the tallest building in the city.
On its edge stood a lone man.
He didn't speak, didn't move, only watched the starry sky while a black cigarette burned slowly between his fingers. His bright golden eyes glowed even through his exhaustion. Nothing could hide the solitude in them. Not tonight.
Behind him, ten men and women stood, watching his back like they had done all their lives.
Some felt nostalgic. Others felt like something inside them was breaking.
It had become a habit for them, seeing him stand in front, shielding them from chaos, bearing the world on his shoulders. He was the wall between them and annihilation, the reason they ever learned peace.
They had all tried to surpass him once.
Now they understood how impossible that dream truly was.
The man finally exhaled a final puff of smoke and sat down on the ledge. He looked down at the sea of people crying for him.
His name lived in every heart below.
He ruled them.
He protected them.
He terrified their enemies.
He chuckled at the thought of being considered a "good ruler."
Slowly, he turned to face the ten behind him. The moment their eyes met his, they couldn't hold back anymore. Their tears broke loose. He saw flashes of their youth, how small they once were compared to what they had become. Kings. Queens. Heroes. Now, gods.
He smiled warmly.
To him, they were still his little brothers and sisters.
Only ten Realms existed in the world. No more, no less.
A peace carved into existence by a single young man, the same man whose face was now covered in cuts and burns. The one whose tired expression had once brought fear and despair to entire armies.
The one who ruled all.
He lifted a trembling hand, calling them closer.
He no longer had the strength for words, and none were needed. He had already spoken to each of them privately, one by one, days prior, like a man arranging matters before a long-awaited journey.
"I shall take a short break," his deep voice whispered, fading into the wind.
They embraced him, one final family hug.
It felt like a giant invisible hand pressed on their throats, suffocating them.
Still, they smiled through their tears.
One by one, they let go…
except one.
The second elder brother clung to him, as if trying to warm a body already losing heat. When he finally broke, the others collapsed too. Their collective cries shook the world.
The ground trembled.
The sky dimmed.
And below… the people understood.
Their king had passed.
Hours later, when their voices were hoarse and the world had cried itself empty, they carried his body to the funeral hall. They knelt, bowed their heads, and made their vows. Their people felt it, the shift, the weight, the moment their rulers truly grew up.
The world mourned.
But somewhere beyond sight, something, or someone, was watching.
As darkness wrapped around him, he felt weightless.
Yet it was not cold.
It was familiar.
A voice echoed faintly as millions of memories flooded down his brain. Then a vision of a colossal being, amused and ancient:
"Take a rest. We still have work to do…"
He felt a pull, a choice already made long before this night.
A prophecy whispered into his fading consciousness.
A path continuing rather than ending.
Opening his eyes.
So this is what it feels like… reincarnation, he thought, staring at his tiny baby hands. His eyes were not those of the man who died above the building, but of someone who lived millions of years, unbothered.
"Here, a healthy boy," a nurse said, handing him to a breathless woman.
She was beautiful, crying and smiling at once.
"It's Mommy… you recognize me, don't you?" she whispered with a trembling laugh.
He stared at her.
The world paused.
I have a mother.
His newborn body couldn't handle the shock, his emotions flooding in with no discipline to contain them. He wailed uncontrollably, even if he could not feel the sorrow that stemmed from it.
"W-what's wrong with him?" she asked, panicking.
"It's normal," the nurse said. "Shake him gently."
His mother did so, and in those seconds, he regained control of his body.
He looked at her again, and a memory flashed, his parents' tragic fate from his past life.