As Leon stares at the death surrounding him, he struggles to maintain his composure. Memories of his fallen friends flash vividly through his mind, their faces and voices haunting him as he surveys the battlefield. The once green and lively field is now a graveyard, littered with bodies in various states—some burned beyond recognition, others lying in pools of blood. Some faces are twisted in regret, others appear oddly serene, as if they welcomed death. In the end, they are all dead, and their stories have ended.
Staring down at the sword piercing his chest, Leon feels the weight of his own impending death. He can barely stand, the pain overwhelming. A tall knight stands above him, silent and imposing. The knight's armor is blackened, and his eyes are cold and unfeeling. Suddenly, he speaks, his voice like gravel, "Do you have any last words, warrior?"
Leon tries to speak, but the intense pain in his throat prevents him. He feels a sharp, searing pain as he realizes the knight has already pierced his throat with a dagger, ensuring he would not have the chance to say anything. The knight had no intention of letting him speak. Through a small hole in the knight's armor, Leon sees an eerie smile. The knight raises his sword to Leon's throat and leans closer, whispering, "Death will always come for you filthy commoners. You can't outrun your fate."
With that, the knight pulls back his sword and releases it like a slingshot, slicing Leon's throat cleanly. The world around him starts to fade. With the little time he has left, Leon's mind races. He thinks, "I wish I could go back. I wish I could become stronger, to protect them."
His vision darkens, and he feels his life slipping away. The sounds of battle grow distant, replaced by a deep, oppressive silence. Just as he succumbs to the darkness, a strange sensation washes over him, as if he's being pulled away from the battlefield.
*You have Inherited the ability, Time return. Returning to 24 hours prior*
Suddenly, Leon wakes with a start in a familiar house, his body free of wounds. Sunlight streams through the windows, and the scent of breakfast fills the air. Disoriented, he looks around, recognizing the place from his childhood. A familiar voice echoes through the halls.
"Come, breakfast is ready."
Leon blinks in confusion, the recent battle and his brutal death still fresh in his mind. Could it have all been a dream? Or had something extraordinary happened? He rises from the bed, following the voice.