Seven years…

To those around him, Zayn seemed like an ordinary child—quiet, thoughtful, a little more mature than others his age. But for Zayn, every night was filled with shadows. Whispers in his dreams. Blurred images of blood-soaked battlefields. Swords. Screams. The echo of a name he couldn't explain:

"Zayn…"

As he grew, his body became stronger, his gaze sharper. But the storms within him only deepened.

The villagers liked him; he was a respectful and calm boy. His family believed he had always been serious by nature, and they took pride in his composed demeanor.

But that night… everything changed.

Zayn was wandering near the edge of the forest, where a small pool of water reflected the darkening sky. The air felt strange—unnaturally heavy. Then came movement; someone running. A child darted past him. His instincts told him to follow.

But it was a trap.

A man emerged from the shadows and blocked his path. Before Zayn could fully react, a strange voice echoed in his mind:

"Do not be afraid…"

The man drew a knife. Zayn didn't think—he swiftly stepped back and hurled a rock at the man's face with his left hand. He wasn't trying to hurt him, only to distract him. As the man stumbled, Zayn ducked low, kicked his knee, and brought him to the ground.

Without hesitation, Zayn grabbed the fallen knife and drove it into the man's chest.

There was no scream. Only silence.

The man died.

And Zayn… felt nothing. No fear. No regret.

Then... he trembled. The world began to spin. A sharp pain pulsed behind his eyes. His knees gave way.

The dreams—no, the memories—rushed in like a flood.

A battlefield drenched in blood…

Bodies piled high…

A scream—

"Commander!"

"Push forward! Hold the line!"

Flames wrapped around his hands. A blade burning with hatred. Dark armor.

And a voice roaring through time:

"Vael!"

Zayn collapsed to the ground. Blood dripped from his nose. His breathing was heavy, but his eyes... were wide open.

Something had awakened.

And far away…

In the depths of an ancient mountain, beyond any map or tale, within a forgotten chamber...

A sword—his sword—still lay embedded in a stone altar. Untouched by time.

The cavern trembled. Dust fell from the ceiling. The walls quaked.

Ancient runes glowed faintly.

The praying priests dropped to their knees in panic.

"W-What was that…?"

They looked at one another, pale and trembling.

Each of them had felt it.

"He... is returning."

END OF CHAPTER NOTE:

Zayn is no longer just a child. His memories have begun to awaken… and this is only the beginning. But who among them dares to uncover the truth behind those eyes?