Section 1: Ancient Wisdom

Location: Skull’s Home

Time: Day

Scene One: Igniting the Inner Flame

Nestled within the confines of Skull’s enigmatic residence, Black found himself immersed in a unique form of training, one meticulously crafted by Skull. This rigorous session was centered around a fascinating concept: elevating one’s body temperature to the point where one could summon flames through sheer willpower and determination.

“Embrace every shard of pain that has ever pierced your heart,” Skull instructed, his voice a blend of sternness and encouragement. “Let them all in, then liberate your spirit from their clutches. This is the key to unlocking the power within.”

Skull’s guidance continued; his tone now soft yet firm. “Inhale slowly, deeply, drawing in not just air, but the essence of the world around you. Hold this breath for a count of ten, then exhale with equal deliberation,” he paused momentarily before adding, “Ensure your back remains erect, a pillar of strength. Feel the energy coursing through you with each breath, intertwining with the very fabric of your being.”

As minutes ticked by under Skull’s watchful eye, Black began to sense a tangible increase in his body’s warmth. It was a gradual yet unmistakable ascent towards the extraordinary. Skull, recognizing the initial success of their endeavor, encouraged Black to persist for another five minutes. However, despite their best efforts, Black found himself grappling with the limits of his focus and endurance. The once rising tide of warmth plateaued, leaving him in a state of mild frustration.

“I can’t seem to feel the progression any longer,” Black confessed, the note of defeat palpable in his voice.

Skull, ever the observant mentor, took a moment to evaluate the situation. Understanding the importance of balance in the art of mastery, he suggested a temporary retreat from the intensity of their practice. “Sometimes, the answers we seek and the strength we need are found in moments of quiet reflection. Let us take a walk around the premises,” he proposed, hinting at the wisdom of reconnecting with the natural world as a means to rejuvenate the spirit and body alike.

Scene Two: Secrets of the Soil

As they wandered the expansive grounds surrounding Skull's mysterious residence, a profound dialogue unfolded between the mentor and his pupil. Skull, with a gaze that seemed to pierce through the veils of reality, addressed Black with a voice rich in solemnity and wisdom. "Your essence, your very spirit, is ensnared by countless memories and emotions from your past. I understand the grip of these experiences is hard to break. Yet, to master the art of conjuring flames at will, liberation from these bonds is essential. Your journey requires a complete surrender of your heart and mind, releasing every fragment of joy and anguish you've harbored. Only then can you truly connect with the essence of the world," Skull elucidated, his words weaving a tapestry of insight and challenge.

Black, absorbing the weight of Skull's words, responded with a contemplative tone. "So, I must empty myself, become a void devoid of past attachments?"

Skull nodded, acknowledging the simplicity yet profundity of Black's understanding. "In a manner of speaking, yes. But achieving such a state is an advanced endeavor, far beyond mere emptiness. Consider the innocence of a newborn, their mind a pristine canvas, untouched and receptive. Contrary to what you might think, a child at birth possesses an innate connection to the cosmos, a bond unmarred by the world's impositions," Skull expounded, inviting Black to envision a state of primal connectivity.

Intrigued, Black sought clarification. "How can a newborn, so new to this world, tap into something as profound as the spirit realm?"

Skull, with a hint of a smile, shared a secret of existence. "At the dawn of life, a child is naturally attuned to the spiritual fabric that weaves our reality. The tragedy lies in the dilution of this connection, influenced heavily by their environment and upbringing. The purity of their connection fades as the worldly layers envelops their perception," he explained, shedding light on the delicate interplay between innocence and the forces that shape us.

Confusion clouded Black's expression. "This concept eludes me. How does this relate to the elemental mastery you speak of?"

Skull, ever patient, posed a question to deepen Black's understanding. "Have you ever pondered the origins of humanity?"

Drawing upon his limited knowledge, Black replied, "Science tells us of our evolutionary journey from primordial beings to our current form."

Skull nodded, then introduced an alternative narrative. "Indeed, but there's also a spiritual perspective. The Bible speaks of humans being crafted from the earth's dust. Have you considered the profound implications of such a creation?"

Black, hesitant, questioned the intent behind Skull's query. "Are you suggesting there's more to that statement than meets the eye?"

"Yes.” Skull replied. “The essence of our creation from the dust is not merely a poetic allegory; it signifies our profound interconnectedness with the earth. This parallel in our genetic fabric with the flora and fauna around us is no coincidence. From the moment of our birth, we possess the innate ability to engage in a silent dialogue with the universe, a skill obscured by modern disconnection," Skull elucidated with a hint of solemnity.

Black, struggling to grasp the magnitude of these concepts, expressed his bewilderment. "It all seems so overwhelming," he admitted.

Skull offered a reassuring smile. "It is a lot to take in, but in time, the significance of these truths will unveil themselves to you," he assured. "The scriptures speak of humanity being endowed with a spirit by the Creator. It's this divine spark that facilitates our ability to commune not just with each other, but with the spirit world itself. Our existence is dual-natured, comprised of both the tangible flesh and the ethereal spirit."

He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in, before continuing, "Consider everything you see—the architecture that shelters us, the vehicles that transport us, even the technology we depend on. All originated from the realm of thought, of spirit. These inventions were first conceived in the minds of individuals, born from the spirit, before being materialized into our physical reality through human ingenuity. It is a testament to our capacity to bridge worlds, transforming intangible ideas into tangible constructs."

This revelation resonated deeply within Black, stirring memories of his life before the days he spent shining shoes at the bank. "I think I'm beginning to grasp the concept," he acknowledged thoughtfully. "Much of my life's journey, from my stint at the bank to the disciplined hours at the dojo, even down to neglecting your calls, originated as mere thoughts. It leads me to wonder," Black paused, curiosity lighting his eyes, "you spoke of an intimate connection with the earth, a dialogical bond. Is it within your abilities to commune in such a manner?"

"Indeed," Skull affirmed with a nod.

Puzzled, Black pressed on, "Then, could you not have employed this method to ascertain my whereabouts?"

Skull chuckled lightly, appreciating Black's keen inquiry. "A valid point. Such a feat is indeed within the realm of possibility, yet it demands a level of mastery that involves becoming as boundless as the void, to merge one's essence with the earth. I confess I am yet to reach such a pinnacle of skill. However, I do possess the ability to glimpse into a person's past through direct contact," he explained.

Astonished, Black's curiosity reached new heights. "Is that truly something you can do?" he asked, eyes wide with wonder.

"Allow me to demonstrate," Skull proposed, placing his hands on Black's shoulders. Then, revealing a moment from Black's past that he believed was known to him alone, Skull unveiled his remarkable gift.

"Whoa!" Black couldn't hide his amazement. "This is incredible. With this technique, I could uncover what truly transpired with my mother," he voiced, his tone brimming with hope and excitement. “Will you teach me how to use this technique?” Black asked.

"Of course, I shall teach you this and more," Skull responded, his voice rich with promise, even as his mind wandered to thoughts tinged with a melancholy foresight.

"Oh, my son, if only you knew the entirety of our tale. A day may come when you feel compelled to confront me for the deeds of my past. I understand the inevitability of that moment, and I accept it with a heavy heart," Skull reflected silently, gazing at Black with a look of profound affection and sorrow. His smile, warm and fatherly, masked the turmoil of a soul bracing for a future where truths unveiled might challenge the bonds they had forged.

As they delved deeper into the mysteries of their training, Black, filled with an insatiable curiosity, sought further understanding. "So, how exactly does this technique work?" he inquired.

Skull, with a look of solemn wisdom, began to elucidate. "Imagine the earth as a vast repository, recording every event, every whisper of life. By making physical contact with a person, I can connect to their essence, their memories stored within the earth itself," he shared, his words painting a picture of the world as an ancient archive.

"Incredible," Black responded, his voice tinged with awe. He wondered about the limits of such a technique. "Could one access these memories without direct physical contact?"

"Indeed," Skull affirmed. "Connection can be established through any object they've touched or even traces of their essence, like their scent. It's the depth of your mastery that defines the possibilities." Skull's reply hinted at a world of potential that lay just beyond the grasp of ordinary understanding.

"Truly astonishing," Black replied, his mind racing with the implications.

Skull continued, unveiling more of the foundational truths underlying their practice. "Engaging deeply in any discipline forges a bridge to the spirit realm, enhancing the practitioner's connection to their craft. This spiritual bond intensifies with dedication, granting access to unprecedented levels of skill. Humanity's potential is limitless, bound only by the laws of the cosmos," he explained, his words imbued with the weight of ancient wisdom.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Black expressed his heartfelt appreciation. "Our paths crossing has been a blessing. I've gained more knowledge and insight with you than in the last four years combined," he shared, his gratitude palpable.

"The honor is mine," Skull responded humbly. "Observe my hands closely. What do you perceive?"

Initially, Black saw nothing unusual, but as he focused, a faint, ember-like glow became visible in Skull's palm. "There... there seems to be a flame," he observed, surprise lacing his voice.

"Excellent. It signifies that your spiritual sensitivity remains intact. Most have lost this connection, their spirits dimmed by life's trials. But you, you still have the potential to see beyond the veil," Skull explained, recognizing Black's innate talent. "Come, let us return to the training room. Our journey is far from over."

Reinvigorated by their enlightening exchange, Skull and Black returned to the sanctum of the training room, eager to delve deeper into their practice.

Section 2: The Clash of Duty and Darkness

Location: Police Station

Time: Day

Scene One: Under the Shadow of Authority

In the austere confines of the police station, Officer Jamal found himself navigating the delicate balance of duty and deference, as he reported on the harrowing case of Zel's family's demise. General Chan, a figure whose reputation for fear and respect permeated the institution's walls, commanded the room with an imposing and inescapable authority. Upon entering the lion's den that was Chan's office, Jamal braced himself for an interrogation that would test his resolve and dedication to the case.

"Jamal, it has come to my attention that you've been doggedly pursuing the investigation into the tragic incident at the burned residence, despite clear instructions to the contrary," Chan began, his voice a firm rebuke veiled thinly by bureaucratic concern. "This is your final warning. Abandon this pursuit; it's a quagmire beyond your purview," he stated unequivocally, leaving no room for debate.

Chan's inquiry into Jamal's progress was pointed, expecting a detailed account of leads and evidence. However, Jamal, keenly aware of the murky waters he was wading through within the force itself, opted for discretion, asserting that no significant leads had surfaced.

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General Chan, eager to dispense with the matter and perhaps hide a deeper unease, swiftly mandated Jamal to take a week's leave, a directive meant to sideline him from further investigation.

Jamal's protest was barely a whisper before Chan's authoritative "No buts" sealed the decision. Dismissed with a curt finality, Jamal exited, a simple acknowledgment masking a storm of speculation. Was Chan's insistence on dropping the case an indication of deeper, darker currents within the force? Jamal's resolve hardened; this enforced respite would not be a retreat but a chance to delve deeper, away from prying eyes.

As Jamal stepped out of the office, his mind raced with unanswered questions and the chilling possibility that General Chan might be harboring secrets far beyond the scope of any ordinary police investigation.

Section 3: Echoes and Ashes: Unraveling the Arcane Mystery

Location: Harbor Mart

Time: Day

Scene One: The Unseen Connection

Kiria had recently secured employment at Harbor Mart, marking a new chapter in her life. It was her inaugural day on the job when she and Zel, seizing the moment during their break, delved into the unnerving spate of mysterious fatalities unsettling the city.

"I heard about the tragic loss of your parents and siblings," Kiria expressed, her voice heavy with empathy. "I'm deeply sorry for your loss. How have you been managing through this ordeal?" she inquired gently.

"The grief was overwhelming initially, but life's demands haven't paused for my sorrow. I've had to find a way to move forward," Zel confided, the weight of his words betraying the resilience he was forced to muster. Curiosity then led him to inquire, "I recall you were employed by Bob previously. What led you to join Harbor Mart?"

Kiria's response hung in the air, thick with the gravity of her news. "Bob... He’s passed away," she disclosed solemnly.

"Passed away!" Zel responded, his shock palpable. "But Bob was virtually indestructible, a fortress of technology and flesh. How could he meet such a fate?" he pondered aloud, struggling to comprehend the reality of Bob's mortality.

"The circumstances of his death are still a mystery to me. Remember when I went to pick up some beverages?" Kiria reminisced, seeking a sliver of understanding from their shared memories.

Zel nodded, prompting her to continue, "He had asked for them. But upon my return, I was greeted by an eerie silence and a gruesome scene. Splatters of blood adorned the walls, and amidst the chaos, traces of his mechanical enhancements lay scattered, as if remnants of a fierce struggle."

The mention of ashes struck a chord with Zel, transporting him back to a somber discovery in his own home on that fateful morning.

"Ashes, you say? There's a chilling similarity to the scene I found at my house," Zel pondered aloud, a nexus of thoughts forming. "Could there be a link to my family's demise?" he speculated, the gears of deduction turning.

"It's within the realm of possibility, but the truth remains shrouded in uncertainty," Kiria concluded, both enveloped by the mystery that had just deepened their shared quandary.

“I remember spotting some security cameras during my visit. Is there a chance they captured anything that could shed light on what happened?” Zel inquired, hope flickering in his eyes.

Kiria paused, her thoughts tracing back to that day. “I did check the security footage, but it was as if every camera had been tampered with or experienced some form of interference at the crucial moment. However, Bob mentioned a peculiar camera—a family heirloom, not powered by conventional means. Instead, it operates on sound waves, a technique passed down from his father. It's designed with an intricate security mechanism, far removed from ordinary technology,” she recounted, her voice imbued with a mixture of intrigue and mystery.

Zel leaned in, captivated. “Sound waves? That sounds almost... arcane.”

“Yes, exactly,” Kiria continued, her enthusiasm growing. “The images it captures are unlike anything you’d expect. They aren’t realistic but more like holographic projections, weaving shapes and shadows to form a semblance of the scene. It's a bit abstract, challenging to decipher identities, but the way it translates sound into visual data is nothing short of fascinating. It’s as if the camera captures the essence of moments, painting them in a spectral light.”

The revelation sparked a torrent of thoughts in Zel. If this camera had indeed recorded the incident, it might offer clues, no matter how abstract or enigmatic.

"Could this somehow tie back to the orb?" Zel ventured, introducing a potential link to the overarching mystery with an inquisitive tone.

Kiria, pondering the possibility, suggested with a spark of initiative, "It's uncertain, but your intuition might be on track. I have a spare key to Bob's place; perhaps we should investigate further. There might be something we're overlooking."

"That's a brilliant plan," Zel thought, urgency bubbling within him. Aloud, he added, "An excellent idea. How about we delve into this mystery today after work?"

Kiria's response was tinged with a teasing allure, her voice carrying a playful yet charismatic undercurrent. "In such a rush, aren't we?" she teased, her words floating between them, hinting at unspoken thoughts.

Undeterred, Zel persisted, "So, what do you say?"

"Alright, we'll go after work. But you're escorting me home afterward; it'll be too dark, and frankly, I'd rather not be alone," Kiria acquiesced, her terms laid out with a mix of jest and sincerity.

"Huh!" Zel chuckled, amused and slightly puzzled by her condition. "Scared? There's no one out to get you," he jested, adding a playful barb, "Besides, you wouldn't be their first choice."

"Hey, that's hardly flattering," Kiria playfully chided, her tone a complex weave of mock indignation and a subtle, flirtatious rebuke. She was paradoxically charmed yet pretended to take offense at his teasing.

With a feigned huff, Kiria set her terms. "No walk home, no deal."

Zel, seeing through her pretense, countered, "You could've just said you wanted the company. No need for theatrics."

Kiria, feigning contemplation, threatened, "I might just rethink our little adventure, you know."

"Fine, fine. I'll walk you home," Zel conceded, the words escaping him in a mixture of resignation and amusement. "Are you satisfied now?"

With a playful smirk, Kiria responded, "Was that so difficult? We're set for after work, then. Just don't get cold feet."

"I won’t," Zel reassured her.

Scene Two: Twilight Secrets: The Quest for Clarity

Time seemed to accelerate, propelling the day towards its inevitable end. As the last rays of sunlight retreated, Zel and Kiria found themselves at the threshold of Bob's residence, poised to unearth secrets that lay hidden within its walls.

"Is there a chance the police might have seized the camera by now?" Zel voiced his concern, the weight of their mission pressing heavily upon him.

Kiria, confident in their clandestine advantage, responded, "I find that unlikely. Bob safeguarded the camera in a hidden chamber, accessible only to him and, by extension, to me. It's safe to assume it remains undisturbed."

Venturing into Bob's sanctuary, they navigated their way to the concealed room. Kiria, with practiced ease, revealed the entrance. The room that lay beyond was a testament to Bob's ingenuity, a veritable nest of technological marvels that immediately captured Zel's wonder.

"Remarkable!" Zel couldn't help but exclaim, his eyes wide with admiration. "Did Bob single-handedly craft this sanctuary?"

Kiria couldn't suppress a smile. "Not quite. I had a hand in its creation," she revealed, her pride evident.

Zel's skepticism slipped out, wrapped in a jesting tone. "Sure, you did," he quipped, though his underlying doubt was palpable.

Kiria, unfazed by his ribbing, retorted, "You don’t have to be a hater, you know."

Choosing to let the comment slide, Zel's attention was quickly reabsorbed by the technological trove that surrounded them. "Let's focus on why we're here," he suggested, steering them back to the task at hand.

The search was brief; Kiria's familiarity with the room's secrets led her swiftly to the camera. "Zel, come over here," she beckoned, cradling the device in her hands as she gently freed it from its hiding place.

With a careful hand, she wiped away the layers of neglect from the camera, bringing it to life. The device flickered on; its screen alight with the promise of revelations. They fast-forwarded to the crucial date, their anticipation mounting as the events surrounding Bob's demise began to unfold before them. But their hope was dampened by the realization that time had eroded the clarity of the recordings, leaving them with images shrouded in ambiguity.

Zel's frustration was palpable. "This is all we have?" he muttered; the disappointment evident in his voice.

Kiria, ever the optimist, tried to salvage the situation. "It's a start. Maybe there's someone who can enhance these images," she suggested, not ready to concede defeat.

Zel nodded, a plan already forming in his mind. "I know just the person," he said, the gears turning with renewed purpose.

Kiria's attempt at lightening the mood with a playful jab did little to penetrate Zel's growing reserve. "Alright, detective," she teased, but Zel remained unresponsive, his gaze distant.

Kiria's thoughts turned inward as she observed the change in Zel. The vibrant, engaging person she had met seemed to recede, replaced by someone carrying the weight of the world. "What's happened to him?" she pondered silently. "Could the shadow of his family's tragedy be casting such a long darkness over him?" Kiria speculated, her heart aching for the pain that Zel must be enduring.

"Hey Zel," Kiria called out to him, her voice bridging the distance that had formed between them. "Do you remember when we first met, and that sense of nostalgia it brought..."

"Not now, Kiria," Zel cut her off, his focus sharp as a blade. "We need to concentrate on what's at hand," he added, before engaging in a swift call to Jamal.

***Buzz

***Buzz

"Hello, Jamal, it's Zel."

"Ah, Zel, how's everything on your end?" Jamal's voice came through, tinged with concern.

"Everything's fine," Zel reassured him. "I've stumbled upon some footage that might shed light on the case."

"That sounds promising. When can we discuss this further?" Jamal inquired.

"A few days from now works for me," Zel suggested.

"Alright, I'll send you the details of where to meet shortly," Jamal concluded.

As Zel wrapped up the call, Kiria's eyebrows arched in silent objection to his wording.

"Actually, we found it together," she muttered under her breath, her tone a blend of amusement and annoyance. "And I was the one who actually unearthed it, yet he's taking all the credit."

Curiosity getting the better of her, she asked, "Who was that on the phone?"

"A friend who I believe can help us decode the footage and identify the assailant," Zel explained, his voice carrying a note of confidence.

Kiria, unable to contain her displeasure, pressed further. "You could at least share the name of this mysterious friend. I'm here offering my assistance, remember? I wouldn't have suggested coming here or even mentioned the camera if I wasn't."

Zel paused, recognizing her valid point. "His name is Jamal, and he's a police officer. Satisfied?" he retorted.

"A cop, you say? How fascinating. Seems I'm aiding a would-be detective," Kiria teased, her words laced with playful sarcasm.

Zel sighed, "This is precisely why I hesitated. But enough, let's head out."

Kiria, quick on her feet, reminded him, "You promised to walk me home. Don't even think about breaking that promise," she declared, hurrying to catch up.

Zel, feigning a change of heart, teased, "Actually, I've reconsidered."

"What?!" Kiria's surprise was palpable as she positioned herself squarely in his path. "You're not going anywhere until you explain yourself."

"Relax, I was just joking," Zel reassured her, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Let's get going. It's getting late," he urged, signaling the end of their expedition and the beginning of their journey back into the night's embrace.

Scene Three: A Glimpse Beyond the Ordinary

Upon reaching Kiria's residence, Zel found himself on the threshold of an unexpected invitation to dinner. With a sense of appreciation, he gently declined, explaining the pressing matters awaiting him at home.

"Perhaps another time," he suggested, offering a parting wave. Kiria, with a smile of gratitude, thanked him for the company and safety he provided on their journey home.

Stepping inside, Kiria was warmly welcomed by the familiar sight of her grandfather.

"Hello, Grandpa," she greeted him cheerfully.

"Ah, Kiria," her grandfather responded, his voice filled with warmth. "You've returned a bit later than usual today. And I noticed someone accompanied you. Who might that be?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"Just a colleague from work," Kiria assured him, her response simple yet tinged with the day's adventures.

Her grandfather, a man with a keen sense for the extraordinary, sensed something intriguing about Zel. "His aura... it's quite remarkable, almost akin to those figures woven into our legends," he contemplated silently, intrigued by the fleeting interaction.

"Now, why don't you go ahead and rest up," he suggested to Kiria, his mind still adrift in thought. As Kiria made her way to find solace in her room, her grandfather remained, lost in contemplation. "Could he possibly be the one foretold in the legends?" he wondered, the possibility igniting a flicker of excitement in his old, wise eyes.

Section 4: Echoes of Disappointment

Location: The Dark Star Tower

Time: Night

Scene One: The Clash of Expectations

Atop the grand Star Tower, Waldo watched intently as Rema, the 7th, engaged in a sparring session with Bulla.

"How utterly disappointing," Waldo mused internally, a tinge of dismay in his silent critique. Observing Rema's efforts—or lack thereof—in the realm of combat was disheartening. The young aspirant's attempts to land even a single hit on Bulla were clumsy at best, devoid of any semblance of fighting prowess.

"He possesses no skill in combat whatsoever. His sole talent lies in manipulating the frequency of his surroundings," Waldo reflected, his observations underscored by Rema's continued struggles to execute even the most basic punch.

"The unique frequency he wields is useless in the throes of actual combat. How disheartening," he lamented silently, his hopes for the young one's potential dimming with each failed attempt.

As Waldo's patience thinned, witnessing Bulla's equally fruitless endeavor to guide Rema, his frustration boiled over. "Enough of this," he declared loudly, his voice cutting through the air as he approached the pair. "What sort of farce is this? How much longer must we wait for you to throw a decent punch?" Waldo criticized, his tone a blend of disappointment and impatience as he drew nearer.

"But Dad, I've been trying my best..." Rema began, his voice a mixture of frustration and plea for understanding, only to be swiftly silenced by Waldo.

"There you go again, resorting to excuses," Waldo interjected sharply. "You constantly boast about your 'ultimate frequency' technique, but of what use is it in real combat? Enough talk. We spar now. Show me the worth of your technique," he commanded, a stern challenge laid bare before Rema.

Scene Two: The Waters of Failure

Bulla, sensing the tension, attempted to diffuse the situation, but Waldo firmly dismissed his intervention. "Stay out of this. This is a matter between father and son," he stated categorically, making it clear that the upcoming lesson was a crucial moment in Rema's journey.

"Initiate the sprinkler system," Waldo instructed Bulla, who promptly exited the room to carry out the command.

Moments after Bulla's departure, the sprinklers burst to life, dousing Waldo and his son in a torrential downpour, simulating a heavy rain within the confines of the room.

With deliberate motions, Waldo shed his blazer, unveiling an arm adorned with intricate tattoos that spoke of his prowess and battles fought.

"Assume your stance. We begin shortly," Waldo declared, setting the stage for what was to come.

As the confrontation commenced, Rema attempted to harness his unique technique but was swiftly incapacitated by a powerful strike to the abdomen from Waldo. The attack left him gasping, robbed of the opportunity to even conceive a response.

"Observe, son. Your technique holds no value if it cannot be summoned in battle. I harbored great expectations for you, yet you've only managed to tarnish our name. Your inadequacies have turned me into an object of ridicule among the sovereigns of distant realms. It pains me to acknowledge you as my offspring," Waldo articulated, his words laden with disappointment as he observed his son writhing in agony on the ground.

"You are... a profound disappointment," Waldo uttered coldly before turning to leave the room. In a final, desperate gesture, Rema extended his hand, attempting to grasp his father's leg, seeking forgiveness or perhaps understanding. However, weakened by pain and defeat, his reach fell short.

"I'm sorry, Dad," he whispered through tears, moments before consciousness eluded him, succumbing to the darkness of unconsciousness.