No matter how much he hated to admit it, Hazie had a point. So did he. They had both played their parts in the mistrust and missteps that led to their current predicament. They hid, withheld truths, and made choices driven by self-interest rather than cooperation. And in doing so, they found exactly what they deserved: pain, tension, and the kind of headaches that could only arise from a bond stretched too thin to bear its own weight. Their already fragile relationship had been dented and warped, leaving it even more tenuous and undefined.

  If they were ordinary people, without the burdens of immortality or the fragmented brilliance of exalted genius, perhaps things would have been simpler. They could have worked through their differences in a straightforward way, free of the complications born from their extraordinary lives. But they weren’t, and both of them knew that if they kept going as they were, distrust and dissonance would lead them to ruin.

  Reluctantly, Kai accepted his share of the blame. It wasn’t an easy concession, but he saw no other way forward. Hazie, to her credit, had done the same. Her willingness to meet him halfway made it clear that she, too, understood the stakes.

  Together, they formed what could only be described as an artificial bond—fragile but functional. It wasn’t built on genuine trust, not entirely, but rather on the shared recognition that they needed each other to survive. In the broken world they inhabited, it was enough to form a truce, a mutual agreement to try and bridge the gap between them.

  Kai knew, deep down, that continuing their relationship in its current unstable state would be a disaster. If they were to endure the trials ahead, they needed to understand each other better, to peel back the layers of mistrust and uncover something real—no matter how uncomfortable it might be.

  And so, with reluctance etched into his every move, Kai agreed to Hazie’s proposal. After all, what better way to know each other than by telling their stories? No lies, no half-truths, no holding back. It was a daunting prospect, one that left a sour taste in his mouth, but he couldn’t deny its odd necessity.

  Sitting against the cold, jagged wall of the cavern, with the distant screeches of the trapped predator echoing in the background, Kai hesitated for a long while before beginning his tale. His voice was indifferent, his tone somber, lacking the humor he often used to mask the weight of his words.

  "I was... really young when it happened. Too young to understand it, really. One moment everything was normal, and the next... they were just gone."

  He paused, the words hanging heavily in the air before continuing. "No one wanted to explain it to me. Maybe they thought I wouldn’t get it, or maybe they just didn’t care enough—not like I’d remember. Either way, I ended up... on my own. And, well, let’s just say people don’t line up to take in kids like me."

  “There was no one else,” he continued. “No grandparents, no aunts or uncles, no cousins. Just me. Social workers tried to help at first—put me in foster homes, but... not everyone wants a kid who doesn’t smile or talk much. I wasn’t what they were looking for, and they weren’t what I needed either.”

  He paused, the corner of his mouth twitching into a bitter smile. “It didn’t take long for me to figure out how the system worked. The younger kids, the ones who cried and clung to anyone who showed them a scrap of kindness, got picked first. Families wanted something like them. Not a quiet, gloomy kid with no friends and too many questions. I figured I had to change if I wanted to be picked. Guess what? The little old me gave them the middle finger and ran." He let out a small laugh, but his smile quickly faded.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Hazie stayed silent, listening. She didn’t press him, didn’t interrupt, and for some reason, that made it easier for Kai to keep going.

  His tone turned colder. “I stopped hoping for something that was never gonna happen. I thought, why bother? Why set myself up for more disappointment? So, I decided to take care of myself. I told myself I didn’t need anyone, didn’t want anyone. But... you know what? That’s just something you say to convince yourself you’re okay when you’re really not."

  He told her about the earliest memory he could recall—the day he lost his parents. He described the confusion, the helplessness, and the dawning realization that he was truly alone. He recounted his time in foster care, the endless cycle of disappointment as families passed him over for brighter, more cheerful children. He spoke of his decision to stop hoping for a new family, to stop clinging to a dream that only brought him pain.

  As the words spilled out, it felt as though they were coming of their own volition, slipping past the usual barriers he kept so carefully in place.

  He spoke of regrets—of the arrogance of his younger self, the failures that followed, the wandering, and the suffocating sense of being utterly lost. He didn’t try to dress it up or make it sound noble. It was just the truth, raw and unfiltered. And eventually, somehow, despite it all, he arrived at the point where he managed to work things out and find his way to an academy. A place that gave him some sense of structure, a purpose he hadn’t realized he craved. It was far from perfect, but it worked. For a while.

  Until suddenly, he was here. In the Shattered Realms, a world as fractured and chaotic as he was, where countless dreams had been broken—including Hazie’s, Cia’s, and every unwilling Transmigrator’s—except for Kaiser, who had no dreams to speak of.

  By the time he stopped, the cavern felt heavier, as if the air itself carried the weight of his words. He leaned back against the jagged wall, exhaling deeply. Speaking had been both draining and strangely relieving, like setting down a burden he had carried for far too long.

  Then it hit him. A flicker of unease crossed his face, and his expression hardened slightly. He realized he had said more than he meant to, shared more of himself with Hazie than he ever intended to share with anyone.

  Had she tricked him again? What if this was another one of her manipulative games, another way to extract information from him? Suspicion bubbled up inside, his defenses threatening to reassert themselves.

  But quickly, he shook his head, silencing the thoughts. He remembered Garba’s teachings, words that had been drilled into him during countless grueling training sessions: *Clarity in swordsmanship begins with clarity of mind.*

  'Stop overthinking. Stop being so paranoid,' he thought, forcing himself to unclench his jaw and ease his shoulders.

  Sighing, Kai draw in a slow breath to steady himself. Perhaps the truth was simpler than he wanted to admit—he had been bottling things up for years. Maybe even longer. And maybe, just maybe, a part of him had secretly wanted to let it all out to someone, to release the weight even if only for a fleeting moment of relief.

  “There... That’s the gist of my background on Earth. Now you know.”

  He turned to look at Hazie, expecting some kind of sarcastic remark or pointed critique. What he didn’t expect was the look on her face.

  Her usually sharp, unyielding gaze had softened, and a single tear glided down her cheek. Her expression was a strange mix of sorrow and reverence, as though she had just witnessed a tragic play unfold before her.

  Kai frowned, shifting uncomfortably. “Uh... why are you crying?”

  Hazie sniffed, quickly wiping at her face with the back of her hand. Her glare was back in an instant, sharp and defensive. “Why shouldn’t I cry? And why aren’t *you* crying, of all people?”

  Kai tilted his head, his expression caught between confusion and irritation. “Why would I cry? It’s not like crying ever fixed anything, it ne—urgh.” He paused, then forced a change in the subject, unwilling to linger in this strange, vulnerable moment. “Anyway, let’s not get too dramatic. Since I’m done with my past on Earth, let’s move on to what happens after that.”

  However, Hazie abruptly offered in a sincere tone, “Do you need a hug?”

  Kai’s response was immediate. “No, thanks. Keep your hug to yourself, woman.”

  'Oh sh*t, why did I say that?!'

  Driven by impulse, his automatic rejection surprised even him. He partially regretted it—he could have gotten a *free* hug from Hazie! But what’s done was done.

  Her expression froze in disbelief, taking her a few seconds to recover. As soon as she did, Hazie asked, her smile twitching, “Can I slap you, then?”

  “No can do.”

  She rolled her eyes, muttering, “I almost forgot you’re... you. Give me back my sympathy.”

  Kai shrugged. “I don’t do refunds. Sorry.”

  Hazie groaned but couldn’t hide the small, amusedly reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

  With that, he resumed, his gaze shifting toward the dark cavern lightless ceiling. “In any case, life’s tough, I guess. But thanks to that, I made it through this messed up Realm to this day..." He hesitated for a moment before beginning spouting bullsh*ts.

  "I'm also a graduating student with high honor and a bunch of achievements to claim when it happens..."