Asher didn't move. His eyes narrowed, soul energy subtly coiling around him like a silent storm.
"You don't belong here," he said flatly.
Kairon smiled, stepping around the table. "And yet, I am. The Rift chose this form for a reason, didn't it? Maybe it thinks you haven't let go of me. That somewhere, deep down, the boy who trusted me still exists."
That struck a nerve.
Asher's hands clenched into fists.
Memories rose like a storm from the depths of his mind—shadows from a past life he had long tried to bury.
The Past Life
He had finally made it."I did it… I'm a doctor now!" a younger Asher had cried out, tears of joy brimming in his eyes as he held his hard-earned degree in trembling hands.
Years of relentless study, of sacrifice and sleepless nights in the orphanage's cramped corners, had finally borne fruit. He returned to the only place he'd ever called home—his childhood orphanage—with bags full of sweets, cakes, and little gifts for the children who still lived there.
