"Nihilism is a philosophical movement that asserts life lacks meaning, value, or purpose. Nihilists believe there are no absolute truths, moral principles, or universal values. From this perspective, everything is relative and subjective, and there is no objective truth or transcendent purpose in human existence."

Nick had read those words as a teenager. At that time, he dismissed that paragraph as just another nonsense from his philosophy class, but over the years, he would frequently find a truth in those words.

Nick Valentine, a 23-year-old man, stood out for his 1.80 meters tall stature. His black, straight hair was usually tied back into a simple ponytail at the back of his head. He had a muscular build. His eyes, an unusual light green that sometimes appeared gray, radiated a hostile glare towards anyone he focused his attention on, and a persistent furrowed brow gave him a somber air.

His preferred attire consisted of dark and gray tones, along with functional jackets that accentuated his serious appearance. These elements, combined with his demeanor, created an aura suggesting danger and seriousness around him.

He wasn't always like this. As a teenager from the Federated States, seemingly without any trait that made him too different, he lived his high school life normally and even enjoyed it. He was happy in his ignorance and considered things like anxiety or depression as issues for "dramatic" people. He even used to tease some misfit from time to time just for laughs, but fortunately for him, they never escalated beyond small taunts and shoves.

Even after losing his parents, his life remained simple. Nick's family, before the tragic loss of his parents in an accident, was an example of a typical family life. His parents' relationship had always been calm and without major conflicts. Despite the inheritance he received after their death, Nick chose to lead a simple life and wisely manage his resources in honor of what his parents had left him. They were an upper-middle-class family, and Nick, in his modesty, was never a young man who spent recklessly. As mentioned, Nick was simple.

Unfortunately, this was also his downfall. Lacking any sense of critique and ignoring the world's problems by living in his little bubble led him to enlist in the military after being bombarded with military propaganda and promises of glory and heroism.

The East-Estirica War, as it was called, was just another medium-sized conflict in the world's history, with large countries invading small countries and large allies entering in their "legitimate defense," leaving small countries and entire societies in ruins. Nick, so ignorant of the world's different truths, enlisted, believing it would be like one of his airsoft matches with friends. What he found was a hellish scene of devastation, a city once teeming with life, with tall buildings and modern, aesthetic architecture, now resembling a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

On the first day he patrolled with his platoon, he saw an image that still haunted his nightmares: a mass grave filled with hundreds of bodies of civilians, women, children, and elderly people, dead and piled up in a hole barely deep enough to cover them. The worst part was that his company was digging this grave. When the reality of it all hit him, he vomited as if trying to expel his lungs through his mouth. And he wasn't the only one, but his sergeant lifted him by the neck and said, "Either you move or you die; I won't allow a bunch of crying sissies to get us all killed."

This was his first glimpse of the real world, his first look at how morality, respect for life, and law were just abstract ideas the government placed to prevent the power they cherished so much from being lost. But in real life, morality and life meant nothing to anyone.

The next three years were hell. The first months were quiet; his platoon was responsible for regular patrols and, occasionally, for supply searches. Life in the military wasn't tough in itself; they didn't go hungry, and his personality didn't deviate enough to have problems with a systematic schedule and following orders. Besides, the camaraderie provided the mental well-being he so desperately needed.

The problem came six months after enlisting. Just when he started to think his time in the army wouldn't be so tough, the superiors ordered his company to search for and eliminate insurgents who had attacked several supply convoys.

On that same day, Nick put on his gear with seriousness and checked several times to ensure everything was in order. He left with a calm mind and a serious attitude, hoping his company would resolve this conflict with a quick and clean operation, as his instructor had instilled so many times during training.

But, as usual, Nick didn't know the truth. What should have been a quick operation turned into a bloody skirmish from one moment to the next. The insurgents, who simply looked like civilians, carried worn and old weapons; they fell in heaps, but they took one or two members of the company with them. The cries and the smell of blood and filth filled the air, making it unbearable. All you could see were the dead and wounded begging on every corner.

Nick was taking cover behind some rubble with several members of his team, shooting and seeking cover when they could. They were essentially shooting blind and praying the bullets went for the other side and not for them. He had his bunkmate, Torres, by his side. They were the same age and had enlisted at the same time. It wasn't a very deep friendship, but they used to help each other when they could, trying to make life easier for themselves.

Torres was right by his side, and they took turns shooting while Nick covered him, and vice versa. Still, Torres couldn't stop muttering, "Crap, crap, Virgin Mary, protect me." Nick had been an atheist all his life, but with the rain of bullets aimed at his head, he even considered reciting some of the few prayers he knew.

The festival of noise and death ended when their sergeant threw several grenades at the building where the insurgents were hiding, causing part of it to collapse. The bullets ceased, but the groans and pleas of dozens of wounded from both sides could still be heard.

Nick moved cautiously, searching for survivors among the ruins, and once again, his mind was shaken by the sight before him. Among the rubble, flesh, and blood, there were bodies everywhere; the insurgents looked like nothing more than 17-year-old kids with sunken cheeks as if they had been starving for a long time.

In the face of the grotesque spectacle, something changed within him. From that day on, he stopped laughing at his friends' jokes, no longer enjoyed food in any of its forms, and in an attempt not to fall apart, his mind closed in on itself and made all feelings of empathy and pity for his victims disappear. He felt no anger, no sorrow, not even hatred; he was empty, hollow.

After that incident, he was sent on several more raids, but everything was different now; the streets filled with mutilated bodies, burning houses, and the stench of death permeating the air evoked nothing in Nick's mind. There was nothing left of the innocence he once had. As he mechanically fired his weapon, the lives of his enemies fell like dominoes. Blood mixed with mud on the ground, but he no longer cared. Desperate pleas and terrified eyes didn't matter. He had stopped feeling empathy; any trace of humanity had faded away, replaced by a dark void threatening to consume him entirely. The only thing keeping him standing was the adrenaline of battle, the only stimulus that still made him feel something, even if it was a feeling distorted by violence. Nick had become a heartless executioner in a world that, for the first time, was completely honest.

This, in addition to the obvious problems it would bring to his own mind, also led to isolation from his peers. He stopped caring about his safety and simply killed enemies indiscriminately while ignoring injured comrades or those asking for help. To be honest, his comrades were afraid of him, and more than once, he was reprimanded by his sergeant for being uncooperative.

After three years of service and several dozens of confirmed kills on his hands, he was honorably discharged from the service and finally returned home. However, this did not improve his state. Finding himself back inside his bubble, where everything was perfect and safe, only made him resent the people who had seemingly benefited from his hell.

Nick knew that these thoughts and, collectively, the state of his mind were not right. He even tried therapy, which helped in certain aspects and managed to contain his anger toward regular civilians, but the rage he felt towards his government and military superiors did not disappear. Even with all this, he slowly started to get better, rekindling relationships with his friends, albeit much more superficial, and securing one or two jobs.

Unfortunately, he still felt like something vital was missing from his life. He tried everything, from meditation to religion, but that sense of emptiness didn't go away. He thought he had found the answer in extreme sports, but the thrill faded as quickly as the novelty, and deep down, he believed that risking his life for no reason was foolish.

He was going through a depression when the answer approached him, quite literally. One night, he left a bar to head home when three men approached him to rob him. They pointed a gun at him and demanded everything he had.

Nick, an experienced battlefield veteran, knew how to handle dangerous situations and was armed, as was his custom, being a Federated citizen. Faced with the group of robbers, Nick remained calm and waited for the right moment before drawing his weapon and shooting the legs of the three criminals. Then, he quickly disarmed the man with the gun and called the police on his phone. While waiting for the patrols, Nick closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. It was at that moment that he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. His heart was pounding, his eyes were alert, and the void that had been inside him finally disappeared. He realized that battle and action were what truly made him feel alive.

Solving the puzzle that had left him so depressed was a happy moment for Nick, but at the same time, it also brought with it the certainty that the only way he had to feed that feeling would be by reenlisting or joining some other kind of armed forces. Everything was complicated and involved following orders from people who didn't care about him, and he didn't care about them.

The police patrol and an ambulance arrived, snapping him out of his thoughts. Nevertheless, Nick already had a plan in his head. They questioned him and took the wounded robbers away. The entire process of his statement and the police letting him go was surprisingly quick.

During the weeks that followed the incident with the robbers, Nick found himself restless and seeking new opportunities. He explored his contacts in the military, searched for possible jobs in private security firms, and even considered the option of joining mercenary groups. However, he quickly realized that most available opportunities involved missions in underdeveloped countries, where violence was the norm, and morality was a hindrance.

As he contemplated these possibilities, Nick began to feel that he needed to take a different path. He had experienced enough war and the death of civilians, and it was not something that gave him satisfaction. He only felt good when facing trained opponents who had chosen to fight of their own free will. Therapy had helped him, and now he understood that simply repeating that experience was not the answer. Instead of letting his impulsive emotions dictate his life without a second thought, Nick decided to take a step back. Instead of conditioning his life without thinking twice, he chose to go on a journey, as he had originally planned after finishing university, if he hadn't enlisted.

Although his military salary was not much, Nick spent nothing beyond food and rent. Traveling through some countries wouldn't be too expensive if he wasn't too demanding; besides, it would help calm his mind and plan his future thoroughly. That's how he ended up passing through Iberia, Romari, and the Principality of Londinium. He traveled with little and didn't spend much on accommodation, so he simply roamed through different countries, listening to the stories of their culture, their wars, agreements, and spending time with any pleasant young lady interested in a tall, muscular Federated man.

He lived like this for several months, until he decided to end his journey by visiting Nordfell. It was said to be a beautiful country and apparently very peaceful despite its Viking roots. He hoped that some natural beauty would help put his life into perspective. That's how he ended up in an immense forest. Nordfell was a small island but incredibly beautiful, full of pristine natural landscapes that had not been tainted by greedy humans. The government itself avoided dirtying their natural landscapes at all costs.

The people were so kind that he almost felt bad. For a Federated citizen, such friendliness and trust from strangers was unnatural, but he truly enjoyed the company of honest people who had no ulterior motives for him. They were simply kind because they could be, and sincere because they had no need not to be.

He found himself several times lost in thought about what his life would have been like if he had grown up with these people and not in his society, so jaded with everything that little mattered to anyone. But he quickly cut off that train of thought because he knew it would bring him nothing but frustration. For the time being, he would simply wander through these beautiful and cold natural paradises, unconcerned with the problems of his life.

With only a few days left before his return home, Nick ventured out alone on one of the famous black sand beaches. He had researched and knew that a northern lights display was expected that night. Planning his hike, he reached the top of a beautiful cliff. The ground was covered with short, green grass, while the scent of the sea and the sound of the waves filled the air. The entire landscape was so beautiful and paradisiacal that it almost brought tears to his eyes. Nevertheless, he set up a small and simple camp while waiting for the nightly spectacle.

In the night, Nick watched as the sky turned into a canvas of vibrant colors. At first, only faint green flashes could be glimpsed, as if nature itself were painting with a brush of light. Then, the lights began to dance in the firmament, moving with an ethereal grace and an almost magical glow.

Intense greens mixed with pink and purple hues, creating an image that seemed to be taken from a dream. The lights flickered and undulated, as if they were silk curtains swaying in the wind. Each flash and every movement were unique, making the display unpredictable and utterly mesmerizing.

The northern lights seemed to dance in the sky, forming luminous swirls and spirals that twisted and faded into space. As the night progressed, the intensity of the colors increased, and the auroras seemed to come to life on their own, filling the firmament with a supernatural beauty.

Being under the northern lights was like witnessing a celestial phenomenon, an experience that left a deep impression on the souls of those fortunate enough to behold it. It made him feel small but, at the same time, aware of how beautiful life could be, an experience that Nick would never forget.

However, even in that magical moment, Nick couldn't help but feel that something was wrong within him. The beauty of the natural spectacle contrasted with the darkness that still lurked inside.

And then, without warning, Nick Valentine was struck by lightning.