A life spent building—layer by layer, brick by brick, he had climbed to the top. He had crushed rivals, outsmarted enemies, and conquered the very world that once seemed so vast. The riches, the fame, the power—they had all been within his grasp. But now? Now they felt like nothing more than dust in his fingers. Empty. Fleeting. Meaningless.

 

Once, the fire of ambition had burned in his chest, urging him to reach higher, to push further, to take more. Each challenge, each obstacle had been a stepping stone toward something greater. The thrill of victory had kept him going, a constant reminder that no matter how hard the world pushed, he was stronger. But now? That fire had long since burned out, leaving only an ashen emptiness in its wake.

 

The thought lingered, as it had so many times before—Why go on?

 

He had lived a life few could ever dream of. He had earned everything: money, respect, influence. He had made enemies tremble, friends admire him, and followers bow in reverence. He had built an empire, brick by brick, and ruled it with an iron fist. But what was it all for? There was no challenge left, no fight to be had. The world had surrendered to him, and in doing so, it had lost its meaning.

 

He took another sip of the whiskey, the sharp burn on his tongue doing little to dull the cold emptiness in his chest. The room around him, grand and lavish, had once been a symbol of his triumph. Now it felt like a prison, its walls closing in around him. The trophies, the awards, the accolades—they were nothing more than reminders of a life that had reached its peak and then… plateaued. There was nothing left to conquer. No more mountains to climb. No more victories to taste.

 

His eyes wandered over the room, landing on the window once more. The city below, alive with the pulse of a thousand lives, seemed so far away. He had been a part of it once, a king in a kingdom of his own making. But now? He was an observer, disconnected from it all. There was no joy in the lights below, no thrill in the rush of the city’s heartbeat. It was all a facade, a distraction from the truth he could no longer deny: he had nothing left to fight for.

 

The weight of his own thoughts settled like a stone in his chest. There had been a time when he had dreamed of a life like this—untouchable, unchallenged. But now, it feels hollow. The endless victories, the accumulated wealth, the respect and power—all of it had led him here. To a place where there was no purpose, no reason to keep going.

 

He stood up abruptly, the chair scraping harshly against the floor. The glass in his hand trembled slightly, but he didn’t care. He crossed the room with the slow, deliberate steps of someone who had nowhere left to go. The door to the roof was only a few feet away, and as he opened it, the cool night air hit him like a slap to the face. It was a relief. The outside world felt raw, untamed—like a place where anything could still happen. But even here, in the open air, there was no solace.

 

The wind tugged at his clothes as he stepped onto the roof, the vast expanse of the city stretching out before him. The lights twinkled below, like stars trapped on Earth, scattered across the dark canvas of the night. He gazed out at the skyline, his breath escaping in a puff of fog in the chilly air. It felt… distant. Like the world below was no longer his to command, and maybe it never had been. Maybe he had only fooled himself into believing he was in control.

 

The silence of the night pressed in on him, but it wasn’t peaceful. It was suffocating. The very stillness of it reminded him of the emptiness that had consumed him from the inside out. The battles, the struggles, the victories—all of them had led to this moment. And in the end, they had been nothing more than a series of distractions, hollow pursuits that had left him as empty as when he started.

 

He looked down at the city once more. The lights below seemed so small now, insignificant. He had once fought so hard for power, for control, for the chance to be remembered. But who was left to remember him now? Who was there to care? He had everything, but there was no one to share it with. No one who truly understood him, who could see the price he had paid for everything he had achieved.

 

And then, the thought came again—Why go on?

 

The emptiness that had gnawed at him for so long seemed to have swallowed every ounce of his will. He had lived a life filled with hardship, with obstacles that would have broken anyone else. But he had stood tall. He had fought through the pain, through the loneliness, through the coldness of a world that had no place for someone like him. He had won. He had won everything. But now, winning felt like nothing at all.

 

A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it wasn’t one of joy. It was a smile of release. Of surrender. The weight of the world, of his achievements, of his struggles, all seemed to fall away in that moment. The world no longer had a hold on him. He was free. Free to leave it all behind.

 

Without another thought, he took a step forward.

 

The wind rushed past him, and for the briefest moment, he felt weightless. Free. The cold air stung his face, but it didn’t matter. His body felt light, almost as if it was no longer his to command. The city below, the life he had lived, everything seemed to fade away. There was no fear. No hesitation. Just peace.

 

He didn’t look back.

 

The final fall was faster than he had expected, the ground rushing up to meet him. But there was no fear. No regret. Only the stillness of the night and the echo of a life well lived. A life full of struggles and triumphs that had led him here. To this final moment.

 

And as he fell, he smiled once more.

 

As the ground approached, his thoughts slowed. The rush of wind, the lights of the city, the world he had known—all of it blurred into a haze. His body, for all its strength and resilience, could not fight the pull of gravity. Yet, there was no panic. No fear. No sense of impending doom. There was only the quiet certainty that this was the end, that it was time to let go.

 

And then, just as everything was about to shatter into oblivion, a strange sensation gripped him. It wasn’t physical—there was no pain, no discomfort. Instead, it was an overwhelming, all-encompassing feeling of being pulled somewhere, like a current tugging him through an unseen river. His surroundings faded, the city’s skyline dissipating like smoke in the wind. He was falling still, but not through the air. He was drifting through something far more vast, far more mysterious.

 

Time, space, and reality seemed to warp around him. For a moment, Eren felt weightless, disconnected from the world he had known, as though he had ceased to exist in any tangible form.

 

And then... everything stopped.

 

---------

 

I felt nothing at first—just an empty void, as if I had ceased to exist. Time, space, and reality all slipped away. Then, slowly, I felt a pull—a strange, gentle force guiding me somewhere. It wasn’t physical, but more like my very essence being reshaped, remade.

 

 

The emptiness around me began to shift. The pull grew stronger, and I felt something solid forming—a new body, a new life. There was no fear, only the sensation of being born again. As the darkness faded, I felt warmth, light, and then... the world around me began to come into focus.

 

I opened my eyes, and everything was new. The room was unfamiliar, but it felt strange... right. Soft light filtered through a window, casting gentle shadows on the walls. I felt warmth, comfort—things I hadn't felt in so long. But I couldn’t focus on that. My mind was still adjusting, still trying to understand.

 

I turned my gaze to the figure in front of me. A woman, her face kind and full of warmth. She smiled as she gazed down at me, her eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't place.

 

“Welcome, Aren,” she whispered, her voice soft and tender.

 

Aren. That was the name I now carried. It took a moment for it to sink in. This wasn’t the world I had known. This was... different.

 

I blinked, slowly absorbing the new reality around me. My body felt young, small, fragile. But my mind? It was sharp, aware. And then, as if sensing my confusion, I heard another voice.

 

"Aren," a deep voice rumbled. "You're awake."

 

I turned my head, and there stood a man—tall, imposing, yet somehow familiar. His presence commanded respect, and something in the air shifted when he entered. He had the look of someone powerful, someone important.

 

Behind him, there was another figure—a girl, older than me, with striking features and a quiet aura. She watched me with gentle curiosity, her eyes filled with a mixture of affection and something else. Perhaps she was my older sister.

 

I felt the weight of the moment settle on me. I wasn’t sure where I was or how I got here, but I could sense the connection. This was my new family. This was where I would start again.

 

But the questions flooded in—why? Why was I here? What had happened? And more importantly... Who am I now?

 

I was Eren. But before that? There was something... a past life, a memory that refused to surface fully. The pieces were blurry, slipping through my mind like sand, but I knew one thing: I had been given a second chance. And in this life, I would find answers.

 

Everyone in the room was staring at me. My mother, with her soft features and concerned eyes, my older sister, who seemed just as perplexed, and the maids, their faces filled with confusion. Even my father, who stood tall and commanding, had a frown creasing his forehead. The room, once filled with joy at my birth, had turned eerily quiet.

 

I felt their eyes on me, but I wasn’t ready to show them who I truly was—what I truly felt.

 

In this quiet moment, something deep inside me stirred. A flicker of awareness that went beyond the present. Was it a memory? A glimpse of the future?

 

Before I could grasp the thought, a soft voice broke the silence.

 

"Is he... alright?"

 

My mother’s voice was faint, but the tension in the room was undeniable. Everyone was waiting. Waiting for me to react, to cry, to prove I was alive, that I was just like every other child.

 

But no one said a word

 

And then, as if something inside me snapped, I cried. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and clear, and the world seemed to shift. A smile tugged at my lips as I looked up at the faces surrounding me. They weren’t sure what to think of me yet, but I knew something they didn’t: my path would be anything but ordinary.

 

As my cries filled the air, I felt something stir in my chest—an unspoken promise, a silent vow. This was only the beginning.

 

But what lay ahead? The journey had just begun.

 

To be continued....