Lying where the Titan had fallen,
half-buried in blackened earth,
was a fragment , and a old worn out piece of paper.
The whole island shooked , making me lose balance.Night's breath came in sharp, ragged gasps as he pushed himself forward, every muscle in his body screaming for rest. But there was no time to stop. His feet slapped against the ground as he ran through the dense, twisted trees, their branches clawing at his skin and clothes like skeletal fingers. His heart pounded in his chest, an unrelenting rhythm urging him to move faster. The vibrations he had felt earlier were intensifying, the ground beneath his feet trembling with an unseen force.
With every step, the island seemed to shift around him—forests growing denser, the very earth beneath him warping itself faster. Roots erupted like traps, rocks split open without warning. It was as if the island had gone mad.
A whisper crept through his thoughts.
"You're not going to make it."
He clenched his teeth, shoving the voice aside. He couldn't afford doubt—not now. Not when everything was falling apart.
He gripped the final fragment of the Shattered Heart tightly in his hand, its surface cold and pulsing with faint light. The last piece. The thing he'd fought and bled for. And now, the island was eating itself alive to bury it all.
Why now?
Why was it only now—when everything was crumbling—
That he wanted to live?
He stumbled, catching himself on a jagged root, and pushed on.
It was strange.
After everything he'd been through… after all the moments he stood on the edge, ready to fall—
He finally wanted to live.
Not just survive.
Live.
The realization hit him like a punch to the chest, and for a moment, he faltered. The ground beneath him cracked. A tree beside him twisted violently and snapped in two.
He had spent so long burying that desire.
Pretending he didn't care.
Pretending he'd be fine if it ended here.
But now—
Now, he was running for his life.
And for once… he wanted to keep it.
His feet slammed against the ground, his lungs burning, and yet something in him felt clearer than it had in ages. Like that single spark—of wanting to live—had pushed aside the fog he'd been drowning in.
But then—
The ground vanished.
It happened too fast.
He reached for something—anything—but there was nothing to grab.
He fell.
Fast.
A scream caught in his throat but never came out. Just the rush of air, the crushing silence, and the final thought that echoed in his mind like a cruel joke.
I was too slow.
The darkness swallowed him whole.
No sky. No ground. Just… weightlessness.
A single tear slipped from his face.
I failed.
After wanting to die for so long… I finally wanted to live.
The thought hit me mid-fall. Like a whisper too late.
The ground never came.
Only more darkness.
Deeper and deeper.
I reached for the sky, but it was gone.
I cried out—but no sound left me.
Just silence. Just weightless descent.
I was tired.
Tired of running.
Tired of losing.
Tired of watching everything fall apart.
I was tired of being afraid.
I just wanted to cut it all away.
And then…
Something cracked open inside me.
A weight—buried so deep I'd forgotten it existed—split wide, and something else surged out.
Cold. Heavy. Slow.
A fire, but not like any I'd ever seen.
It wasn't red. It didn't burn.
It was black.
It slithered up my chest like smoke, then flared—violent and soundless. A dark flame that swallowed everything it touched ,it was cold but a part of it erased all my pain .
The fall stopped.
Time bent.
Even the void paused to watch.
The flame crawled along my arms, out my mouth, through my eyes, until it wasn't a part of me—
It was me.
It didn't shine.
It erased.
The air trembled around me, twisted, then froze.
I reached out with a trembling hand, and the black fire reached too—like it was waiting for the chance to exist.
It swallowed the nothingness ahead.
Not with hunger.
But with purpose.
And I watched, helpless, as it grew.
What is this…?
I didn't know.
But it felt real.
More real than anything I'd ever touched.