I died.
Not in peace. Not in sleep. I died in fire and chaos—shattered bone, torn flesh, and the roar of a bomb ripping me apart.
But death wasn't an end.
I floated. In a vast, endless void. Not falling. Not rising. Just drifting—weightless in darkness so complete, it made me forget what light ever felt like.
There was no pain. Only silence.
And then came the memories.
My mother's scream.
My father's blood on the concrete.
Their hands had once held me gently, lovingly. But I watched them fall in the middle of the street—shot like animals. For what? Property. Money. A signature. And behind it all, the one who smiled was my uncle. My own blood. He killed them with greed in his heart and poison in his words.
He didn't stop there.
He and his wife—the aunt who wore cruelty like a crown—made my childhood a nightmare. Days without food. Nights without warmth. I was less than nothing to them.
Until I ran.
Until I stole food from the wrong alley... and was found.
The Organization took me in. Trained me. Shaped me into a tool with no past, no name—just a number and a target.
A hitman.
My first prey? The man who killed my parents. My uncle. I didn't just end his life. I made him suffer—slowly, painfully. And when it was over, I felt... satisfied.
But that satisfaction died quickly.
Each kill after that numbed me. Faces blurred. Names were meaningless. I had no joy, no fear, no soul. Just a hollow pit where my heart once lived.
Then, I met Sophia.
It was in Australia. I took a break, a forced vacation to try and remember what it meant to be human. She was blind, yet she saw more than I ever could. With no eyes, she saw through walls. Through me.
Sophia spoke to me like I mattered.
She laughed at my silence. Held my hand when I thought I didn't deserve it. She showed me beauty—in wind, in music, in silence. For the first time, I believed maybe I wasn't lost.
Then the bullet came.
It was meant for me.
She stepped in front of it.
And just like that—my light was gone.
I held her as she died, her final breath whispering forgiveness I never earned. And once more, the void inside me returned.
So I went back. To the shadows. To the blood.
Until I learned the truth.
The Organization was worse than I ever imagined—engineers of war, puppeteers pulling strings to start conflict between nations. All for profit. All for power.
I couldn't stay silent.
One by one, I destroyed them. The top agents. The council. The leader—I killed him and made it look like an accident. Justice? Maybe. Vengeance? Definitely.
It took them ten years to catch me. Ten years of running. And then... they killed me.
I hoped Shen was safe. I had seen the bomb. I could've escaped. But I didn't. I still don't know why I didn't even try.
Maybe I thought I deserved to die.
Maybe I did.
And now, here I was.
In this timeless void, floating endlessly. Minutes, hours, years—who could say? It felt like even Hell turned its back on me.
Then suddenly...
Light.
It burst into the darkness—brilliant, blinding. I winced. Covered my eyes.
When I opened them again, I wasn't in the void anymore.
A blue sky. A grand garden. Children playing with wooden swords, laughter echoing through the air. In front of me stood a mansion, like the ones from old paintings of London.
I sat on a chair on the porch, stunned.
I tried to stand. My legs buckled. I collapsed.
The children stopped. Ran to me. Their eyes widened, gasps escaped their lips. A maid, startled, dropped the tray in her hands and hurried off in a panic.
I looked down.
My hands were small. My limbs... tiny. No scars. No blood.
I was five years old.
"What...?" I whispered.
Then, a blur of pink hair. A boy, no older than me, ran toward me with tears in his eyes and a smile that could warm the dead.
"Big brother!" he cried, hugging me tightly.
I blinked. "What...?"
His voice was full of warmth. No fear. Just pure happiness. As if I had always belonged here.
Then I heard her.
"Liam!"
A woman—tall, elegant, breathtaking—rushed from the mansion. Her hair shimmered like a rose-tinted sunrise, her eyes full of unshed tears. She dropped beside me and pulled me into her arms.
"My baby... My sweet Liam... You're really awake…"
She held me like her whole world had returned.
And I broke.
Tears poured down my cheeks before I could understand why. My body trembled, not from fear—but from something else. Something warm. Something real.
I cried—not as a killer. Not as a tool. Not even as a man.
I cried as a child.
In the arms of a mother I didn't remember.
I didn't know who she was.
But her embrace felt like the home I had been searching for my entire life.
I felt human.
I felt loved.
And for the first time in my life...
I felt home