The Phone Call
The phone rang softly in the quiet hospital room, its sound barely interrupting the stillness. Outside the window, the evening sun cast long, golden rays across the sterile white walls. Machines beeped steadily, a rhythmic reminder of the life slipping away, one breath at a time.
"Hello," Yu-Jun answered, his voice calm, almost detached. His body, once strong and unyielding, was now frail and weakened, confined to the hospital bed. At just 19 years old, he was at the edge of life, far too young to face such an end.
He had fought—fought harder than most could ever imagine. Against the organization that took everything from him. Against a destiny he never chose. Yet, in the end, even he couldn't defeat the one enemy that always lingered: time.
"Are you eating properly?" The familiar voice on the other end asked, filled with concern but tinged with a helplessness Yu-Jun knew all too well.
"Yeah," Yu-Jun replied simply, leaning back against the pillow. He didn't elaborate—what was the point? Even the simplest of lies had become routine.
"How many days are left?" The words came after a pause, careful, almost hesitant.
Yu-Jun closed his eyes, letting the question settle in the air. His voice was barely a whisper, "Tomorrow."
There was a silence so profound it felt as if even the world had stopped for a moment. Then his best friend's voice returned, lighter this time, forcing cheerfulness into the words. "Do you know what's happening tonight?"
Yu-Jun blinked, puzzled. "What's tonight?"
"The meteor shower. It happens once every 70 years. Let's watch it together. They say it's magical."
Magical? Yu-Jun thought bitterly. In a world so advanced, where cities touched the skies and technology could bend reality, magic was just a word—an illusion of hope. He almost laughed but caught himself. Instead, he said, "Sure. Let's watch it."
"Alright. I'll see you soon, Ji-Hoon," Yu-Jun added, his voice softening. Ji-Hoon was his best friend—the only person who stayed by his side through it all, fighting his own battle with the same illness. Yet, Ji-Hoon was stronger, his body responding to treatment where Yu-Jun's did not.
"Yeah... we'll watch it together, Yu-Jun. Just like we promised," Ji-Hoon replied, his voice trembling ever so slightly before the line went dead.
The room fell silent again. Yu-Jun glanced at the window, where the sky had begun its slow transformation into twilight, hues of orange and purple bleeding into each other. Outside, the world moved on, unaware that his was ending.
---
Nightfall
The rooftop was eerily quiet, the faint hum of the city below barely audible. Yu-Jun stood there with Ji-Hoon, the hospital building looming behind them like a silent observer.
Above, the first stars began to streak across the night sky—brilliant, fleeting, and heartbreakingly beautiful.
"Look at that," Ji-Hoon whispered, pointing at the meteor shower with awe.
Yu-Jun's gaze followed, his face unreadable. He didn't believe in magic or miracles—not anymore. But even he couldn't deny the beauty of the sight. For a fleeting moment, something deep within him stirred, a feeling he couldn't quite name.
"You should make a wish," Ji-Hoon urged, nudging him gently.
Yu-Jun didn't reply immediately. He stared at the meteors, at the tiny sparks of light blazing across the heavens, before murmuring, "If there's a second life… I just want to live."
The words felt heavier than they should have, sinking into the stillness around them. Ji-Hoon didn't say anything, but the silence between them felt charged as if the universe itself had heard his wish.
---
The Final Night
Back in his hospital bed, Yu-Jun lay motionless, his breathing shallow. The clock ticked softly in the corner, each second pulling him closer to the inevitable.
He didn't feel afraid anymore. The pain, the exhaustion—it had all become too familiar, too constant to fight against.
As his eyelids grew heavy, Yu-Jun whispered to himself, "So this is it."
And then, the world faded to black.
---
The Endless Void
When Yu-Jun opened his eyes, he was no longer in his hospital room. He stood in an endless void, a vast expanse of nothingness stretching infinitely in all directions.
The emptiness should have terrified him, but it didn't. Instead, he felt a strange calm, as though all his burdens had been lifted, leaving behind only quiet clarity.
In the distance, a faint light appeared, growing brighter with each passing moment. From the light emerged a glowing wolf, its silver coat shimmering like stardust.
The wolf's luminous eyes locked onto Yu-Jun's. It didn't speak, but there was an understanding in its gaze, a silent invitation. Without hesitation, the wolf turned and began walking away.
Yu-Jun hesitated for only a moment before following, his steps light as though he were floating. As he moved through the void, his body began to dissolve into tiny particles of light, each step scattering more of him into nothingness.
The wolf led him deeper into the void until it suddenly stopped. It turned, meeting his gaze one last time before stepping aside to reveal a radiant gateway pulsing with energy.
The gateway called to him; it was light, warm, and all-encompassing. Yu-Jun stepped forward, letting the light consume him.
---
Rebirth
When Yu-Jun opened his eyes again, he wasn't himself anymore.
He lay in a grand, luxurious bed, sunlight streaming through delicate, lace-like curtains. The air was warm and alive, charged with a strange, unfamiliar energy that seemed to hum just beneath the surface.
Slowly, Yu-Jun sat up, his movements awkward and unfamiliar. His hands were different—slender but strong, their pale skin unmarked by the scars of battle and illness he had grown used to. He raised them to his face, tracing features that didn't feel like his own.
Memories of the void flickered in his mind, distant and dreamlike, as though they belonged to someone else. And yet, a name surfaced, carried on the whisper of the wind that filtered through the open window.
Lucian Solryn.
His old life was gone, left behind in that endless void. But this new one had only just begun.