Chapter 88: This World... Isn't Mine
Ren stood at the edge of the field, the vast night sky above him feeling like an endless void. The constellations were unfamiliar, their shapes and patterns alien to him. This night, for the first time, he felt the strangeness of it all, a profound sense of disconnection from the world he thought he knew. The field beneath him seemed foreign, the cool breeze against his skin was chilling rather than comforting.
His feet felt heavy, as though they were anchored in soil that wasn't his. The field felt alien, the world around him felt out of place. The weight of realization pressed down on him like an oppressive force. For the first time, Ren truly understood that this world wasn't his.
His breathing came in shallow, ragged gasps. The sensation was overwhelming, as if a tidal wave of confusion and panic had swept over him. 'If this isn't my world, then who am I? Where do I belong?'
As his thoughts spiraled, voices began to emerge from the depths of his mind. The first was the child—an echo of a younger version of himself, long suppressed and ignored. This voice was soft, filled with an innocence tinged by a deep, lingering sadness.
'This isn't your home,' the child whispered, filed with nothing. 'You were never meant to be here,huh?'
Ren's heart clenched as the child's voice tugged at him. But alongside it, there was another voice—older, colder. The adult Ren, a hardened mercenary who had lived in shadows and had been rejected by humanity and light. This voice spoke with a bitter edge, dripping with disdain.
'This world doesn't care about you,' the adult sneered. 'You think you had a place here? You think you ever belonged? Don't be a fool. You were always alone.'
Ren stumbled backward, his mind reeling, a jumbled mess of pain and confusion. The voices grew louder, their arguments overlapping and clashing. He tried to shut them out, to escape their relentless barrage, but they persisted, refusing to leave him in peace.
The child's voice broke through again, pity that felt fake. 'You never had a chance, did you? All you ever wanted was a home... but this world... it was never your's, was it?'
Falling to his knees, Ren clutched his head, desperate to anchor himself. The world around him felt as though it was slipping away, dissolving into something ungraspable, beyond his understanding. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling under the weight of a unknown force.
'What does it matter now?' the adult spat, his voice laced with venom. 'Home? You don't need a home. You never did. You survive. That's all that matters. That's all that ever mattered.'
But the child's voice remained the same , filled with mockery. 'No,' he whispered. 'That's not true. He needed more. He needed to feel... to belong somewhere.'
The words struck Ren deeply. He had spent his life running, pushing away the notion of belonging, convincing himself that it was irrelevant. But now, faced with the truth of his existence, he realized that perhaps—just perhaps—it did matter. He had been fighting, killing, surviving... but had he ever truly lived?
His vision blurred as he gazed up at the sky. The stars seemed distant and mocking, their cold light a stark contrast to his inner turmoil. He felt like a child again—lost, scared, searching for something that would make sense of this world that felt so alien.
'I don't understand,' Ren whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking. 'If this isn't my world... then where do I belong? Who am I, if not someone who fits here?'
The silence that followed was suffocating, as if the very air was closing in on him. The adult voice was harsh and unforgiving. 'You're no one. You're nothing. And that's all you'll ever be.'
Yet, the child's voice remained indifferent. 'He is not nothing,' the younger Ren said gently. ' just... lost. He trying to find his way but I doubt you can achieve that.'
Tears stung Ren's eyes as the weight of the truth crashed down on him. The voices in his head weren't wrong. He was lost. He had always been lost. And now, standing in a world that wasn't his, he understood how deep that feeling ran.
The adult voice returned, sharp and cruel. 'You're weak, you know that? You cling to these pathetic dreams of belonging, of home. But the truth is, you don't belong anywhere. No one wants you. Not even this world.'
Ren's heart twisted painfully. He knew this voice came from a part of him hardened by a lifetime of rejection and survival. But now, for the first time, he questioned if this voice was entirely right.
"Maybe..." Ren whispered, his voice barely audible. "Maybe I don't belong here. Maybe this world isn't mine. But does that mean I can't make a place for myself? Does that mean I can't create something for me?"
The adult scoffed dismissively. 'You think you can build something here? You're delusional. Be rational.'
The child's voice had changed his tone. 'I don't think it's possible. Like he said , please be rational. You don't belong here. You can't create something.'
The idea of creating something appeared in his mind and it lingered in his mind—fragile, yet persistent. Could it be true? Could he find—or create—his own place, even in a world that wasn't his?
Slowly, Ren stood, his legs unsteady, his breath uneven. He looked around at the field and the night sky, and a realization dawned on him. This world might not be his, but he was here, now. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
The voices in his head quieted, his own hopeful words echoing softly. 'i just want to belong.'
For so long, Ren had denied that desire. For so long, he had told himself that survival was enough. But now, as he looked into the vastness of the world that wasn't his, he wondered if he had been wrong. Maybe there was more to life than merely getting by.
"I don't know," Ren whispered to himself. "I don't know what comes next. But maybe... maybe it's time to stop running. Maybe it's time to stop fighting against the world and start fighting for myself."
The child's presence was now a comforting warmth, while the adult voice had receded into the background. For the first time, Ren felt a sense of chaos—a realization that, this world isn't his.
He was now just merely surviving. He wasn't sure if he was alive.
.
.
.
.
Ren's mind churned as he wrestled with the conflicting voices within him. The darkness of the field seemed to amplify his internal struggle, making each voice resonate more vividly.
In the midst of this turmoil, Ren began to speak aloud, a monologue directed at the shadows of his inner selves.
"Every day, I've fought to survive. I've battled against a world that seemed determined to reject me. But in that fight, I've lost something essential—myself. I've been so focused on just getting by that I've forgotten what it means to truly live."
He paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady his voice.
"Survival isn't enough. It can't be. I've clung to the belief that if I just keep pushing forward, keep fighting, I'd find a place—somewhere. But now, I realize that isn't the way to find belonging. Belonging isn't something you find; it's something you create. It's about finding meaning, making connections, and forging a space where you can be who you truly are."
His eyes, though clouded with tears, looked out at the expanse before him.
〔 "I may not belong to this world. This world may never fully embrace me. But that doesn't mean I can't carve out a place for myself. It doesn't mean I can't strive to find meaning, to create something beautiful and true, even in a world that seems indifferent." 〕
Ren's voice grew more determined, his resolve strengthening. But... it felt as if he wasn't the one who was saying these words. These thoughts, he felt as if they weren't his.
〔 "I won't let the harsh voices in my head dictate my worth. I won't be confined by the belief that I am nothing. I am more than my past, more than my survival. I am someone who deserves to find a place, to find a purpose. And maybe, just maybe, that purpose lies in creating something new—something that's mine."〕
He took another deep breath, feeling a newfound sense of clarity. Yet he wasn't aware that these words maybe not he his. Maybe... these feelings were but these words? They weren't his and that's what he wasn't aware of.
〔 "I don't know what lies ahead. I don't know if I'll ever fully belong. But I do know that I have the power to shape my own path. I have the strength to fight not just for survival, but for a place where I can truly be myself."〕
With those words, Ren stood tall, the night sky stretching endlessly above him. The stars shinning above his head as if they were eyes that were staring at him.
He was ready to face the uncertainty, to embrace the challenge of finding his place in a world that wasn't his, and to forge a new path, no matter how daunting it seemed.
He wasn't sure why he said those words , why he is saying such things but he was sure they mean something. Something foreign to him.
But whenever he tried to think about it , those thoughts disappeared.