I was in my parents' room, frozen in place. My whole body felt paralyzed, like I was stuck in time. But I could still see my parents moving, even though I couldn't hear them.
I watched as my mother held… me? It was me, as a baby, crying in her arms.
Standing in front of her was my father. He looked like a man in his prime—dark black hair, broad shoulders, his white shirt crisp and clean. He embodied masculinity, from the sharpness of his gaze to the strength in his posture. His eyes, though cold, softened with warmth as they met my mother's.
They were arguing. I could tell just by looking, but I couldn't hear a word. What were they fighting about? Why couldn't I hear them?
I had so many questions.
But I knew, deep down, the argument was about me. The tension in the room, the way my father glanced at me, it all revolved around the child in my mother's arms.
Suddenly, my mother's face crumpled, her eyes filling with tears. She turned away, but my father pulled her into a comforting embrace, holding her close. Then, he reached for baby me, taking me gently from her arms. His expression softened, an apologetic smile tugging at his lips as he gazed down at his son.
My mother joined him, placing a gentle hand on my head while the baby me squirmed, waving my tiny arms without a care in the world.
What the fuck is happening? I say to myself as I watch the scene unfold. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? I was screaming, my mind in chaos.
No, this has to be an illusion! I thought, It's probably the work of the Nine-Tailed Fox.
But even as I screamed those words, I could feel the warmth, the love radiating from them—the warmth I never knew.
Why…? I whisper to myself, the anger rising in my chest. If you guys loved me… why did you treat me like that?
WHY!? I screamed, my lungs burning with the effort.
WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!?
I tried to move, to break free from whatever was holding me, but I couldn't. I was trapped, forced to watch.
My mother, the one who never gave me any motherly love, was now playing with the baby hands, smiling like she actually cared. And my father—that bastard of a man whom I'd only seen three times in my entire life—was holding me in his arms, cradling me like I was the most precious thing in the world.
These people… these so-called parents, who never even acknowledged my existence, were acting like they actually gave a damn.
WHY DID YOU TREAT ME LIKE THAT!? I screamed again, but it was useless. They couldn't hear me. They couldn't see me.
Suddenly, everything went black.
I couldn't see or feel anything—just pure darkness.
Then, I heard a voice. Faint at first, distant, like it was calling from another world.
"Rem!"
It was Ego's voice.
"Rem!"
The voice grew louder, stronger, until it was ringing in my ears.
Louder and louder.
...
I opened my eyes and found myself staring at a man. He was stunning—captivating green eyes, flawless skin, long green hair cascading down his shoulders. Everything about him screamed perfection.
He smirked arrogantly, catching me staring. "I see you've already fallen for me."
"What?" I blinked, dumbfounded, trying to process what he said.
"Oh, don't worry. It's not your fault," he said, waving it off casually. "Blame the gods for blessing me with such beauty."
"Huh?" I muttered, staring at him in disbelief.
"Wait..." I blinked as I realized my body was healed—completely. The pain had vanished, and my wounds were gone.
"Oh, I healed you too," the man said with a self-satisfied grin. "I know, I know. I'm just too perfect." He continued to boast, clearly enjoying himself.
I was thankful, sure, but... what the hell is wrong with this guy? I thought to myself.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Miss Old stepped in.
"Looks like you've already met Marcus," she said, an amused smile on her face.
"Ah, yes!" Marcus exclaimed, dramatically putting a hand to his chest. "I was so caught up in showing off my perfection that I forgot to introduce myself." He straightened up, flashing a cocky smile. "Marcus, Marcus the Wise. The one and only child of the illustrious Wise family."
"Wait..." I stammered, still processing. "The Wise family?"
Marcus flashed another smug grin. "That's right. My father is the current chief strategist of this kingdom."
I could only stare in shock. The Wise family? They were legendary, known for their intellect and strategic genius passed down through generations.
So how the hell is this narcissistic guy from that family?
"I know, I know," Marcus said with a chuckle, clearly enjoying my reaction. "You must be jealous. It's only natural. Unmatchable beauty and a powerful bloodline. Ah, what can I say? The gods just love me too much."
Nah, that's it. I'm beating this guy. I thought, pushing myself up from the bed, ready to smack that smug look off his face.
"All right, that's enough, Marcus," Miss Old intervened, her tone sharp.
Marcus paused and shrugged. "Okay, okay," he said, a little less dramatically. "Getting to the point."
He cleared his throat and looked at me. "Rem, the prince has invited you to join his team. We're going on a rescue mission."
"Huh?" I blinked in confusion. "The prince?"
The prince... A secretive man with not much known about him. I'd never even met him, despite being the second son of one of the four kings. And yet, somehow, it seemed like he knew me.
"Yeah," Marcus continued. "Some beast men from the Beast Land invaded a nearby village, taking the villagers hostage. They're using them to buy time for something. We've got about a month to act, and the prince was sent to deal with it."
I furrowed my brow, still processing. "And he's... recruiting people?"
Marcus smirked. "Not just people. You. You're at the top of the list."
"Huh? But why me?" I asked, completely confused.
"Because he thinks you'll be fun," Marcus replied with a smirk.
"Excuse me? What?" I stared at him, incredulous. "So, you're telling me that the prince, who never even knew I existed, is suddenly interested in me?"
Marcus chuckled as he met my gaze. "Come on, who wouldn't know about you? You're pretty famous—for all the wrong reasons."
I narrowed my eyes, still suspicious.
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "I can't go. My master already gave me a mission."
"Yeah, I know," Marcus said, glancing over at Miss Old. "She told me everything. But we're heading out in a month, and your deadline is also a month away. So, if you finish your mission early, you can still come with us."
"I'll think about it," I said, my voice unsure.
"Sure you will," Marcus replied with a grin. "Anyway, I've already wasted too much time and energy on this."
"Oh, and thanks for healing me," I added, feeling a bit more grateful now that the pain had subsided.
"No problem," Marcus said, his arrogance returning in full force. "God blessed me, so I should bless others, too."
"But seriously, those wind wolves did a number on you. You should be careful when you go hunting them again."
Suddenly, Miss Old smacked the back of my head. "I told this boy not to underestimate them, but he still did."
"Ouch, Master, stop!" I protested as she kept hitting me. "It wasn't my fault—there was a Tier 3 beast!"
"So?" she said, her voice stern. "I told you that nothing in the beast zone is predictable."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'll be more careful next time."
"You know," Marcus chimed in, "you should learn more about the wind wolves before attacking them. There's a book about them you can read."
With that, Marcus headed for the door. "Anyway, I'm out. Hope you think about it, Rem."
Miss Old walked him out, and as the door closed, I collapsed back onto the bed.
I didn't show it, but I was disappointed. Disappointed in myself for overestimating what a few months of training had done for me. Disappointed that I had underestimated my opponent. Disappointed that I was still so weak.
I got up, stretching my sore muscles, and walked over to the window. My eyes wandered toward the forest, where I'd encountered the wind wolves.
The image of the pack leader flashed in my mind. There was something in that wolf's eyes—something strangely familiar, like the way I look at myself in the mirror.
And I hadn't forgotten the dream... My parents treating me like their child when I was just a baby. But what changed? Why had they started to neglect me? What were they arguing about?
I sighed, placing my hand on the cool glass of the window.
Something big is coming, I can feel it. And somehow, I know I'll be the cause of it.