Ares Hall was six years old when he lost everything.
One moment, he sat in the backseat of his parents' car, staring at the glowing city lights through rain-streaked windows. The next, there was nothing but twisted metal, shattered glass, and the scent of burning oil.
He remembered the feeling of weightlessness as the car skidded across the wet highway, the shrill scream of his mother, the sharp impact of his head against the seat. Then—silence.
When he woke up, he was in a hospital bed, staring at a ceiling he didn't recognize. His parents never woke up at all.
There was no extended family to take him in. No comforting arms to tell him everything would be okay. He was shuffled through foster homes, bouncing from one indifferent guardian to another. Some were kind. Others saw him as just another obligation.
Ares learned quickly that no one stayed forever.
He was too smart for his own good. School was easy; friendships weren't. Kids ignored him or resented him.
Adults praised his intelligence but dismissed his emotions.
"You're gifted," they told him.
But he never felt like it.
He buried himself in books, science, logic—things that made sense. Unlike people. Unlike life. Unlike the cruel randomness of fate.
Then came Emily. The one person who made life bearable.
They met in college. She was warm where he was cold, bright where he was quiet. She made him feel—something he had long stopped trying to do.
For a while, he believed she was his reason to exist.
Until she left.
"It's not your fault, Ares," she had said, voice gentle, eyes full of pity.
"You're a good man. But… I need something more."
Something more.
That "something" turned out to be someone—someone with a stable career, a brighter future, a better life.
Ares didn't beg. He didn't scream. He simply nodded, because what else was there to do?
The wedding invitation came a year later. He didn't know why he went. Maybe he needed proof. Proof that she had truly moved on, that he had never been enough.
He stood in the back of the ceremony, unseen, unnoticed. The vows, the smiles, the promises of forever—they weren't for him.
He walked away before they even kissed.
The night it happened, Ares walked home in the rain. He didn't bother with an umbrella.
His clothes were soaked, his breath fogged in the cold air, but he barely noticed.
He had no family. No love. No dreams left to chase. He existed—but for what?
Thunder rumbled above. A flicker of light danced across the sky.
Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was just another cruel joke.
A blinding flash.
Then—nothing.
Darkness.
A flicker in the void.
System: [WARNING: HOST DETECTED...]
[INITIALIZING SYSTEM BONDING…]
[ERROR—CRITICAL FAILURE...]
[RETRYING...]
Ares didn't see the lightning strike. He didn't feel his body collapse onto the pavement.
By the time he realized something was wrong—he was already gone.