I never thought that those on their deathbeds were truly feeling as bad as they were, proclaiming “I’m going cold!”, after which they would plop onto the bed, their souls whisked out of their body.

And yet, here I was, bleeding out. A hand graced the large gaping hole in my chest, blood flowing in a river down the plains. My sword lay somewhere nearby, stabbed into the ground, various cracks engraved into its surface like an oddly-shaped spiderweb.

I, Atlas, Commander of the Elysian Army, the ‘Deity’ himself, didn’t want to die. 

The realisation was enough to break me then and there, tears dripping down my face as I sobbed, the wails ripping from somewhere deep within. From my heart, it blistered my cheeks as I screamed with a fervour unfit for someone of my status. I was a warrior. I had grown up to be Elysium’s strongest soldier and nothing more. I was never made to have feelings; that was the way it had always been.

Yet here, dying, counting down the seconds, I feared death. 

My mind was filled with memories. Was this what the ‘seeing your life flash before your eyes’ nonsense people were always going on about was? Yet, my life was filled with nothing but pain and regret. From my creation to the Academy to my debut as a soldier, I regretted living my life alone, confining myself to the training rooms as I attempted to become the greatest soldier. I regretted it all.

Fires raged across my homeland, turning its beautiful landscape to dust, the plains I had played in as a child burned to the ground. 

My body was beginning to turn cold by this point. I didn’t mind. The dead corpses of my squadron, of my friends, littered the ground. It didn’t matter anymore. Maybe in death, I could repent for this shitty life of mine. I had wasted it away doing what? Training? There was nothing important to me.

I was now in the home stretch, and taking my final breaths, my body turning to ice. I couldn’t even feel my fingers, my hands. My heart was beginning to slow. 

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump…

Nothing remained as my eyes fluttered closed. Then there was light. It remained small, however, as time passed, the light grew brighter and brighter, forcing me to squint painfully as it burned into the back of my mind.

Wait, light?

Was I in heaven or something? No, it couldn’t be. Heaven wasn’t this… painful. 

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“Your son will be fine, Mr and Mrs Irvine. He appears to have a head injury due to the fall- that is all.”

My hand raised to my face, covering my eyes as I blinked. Immediately, I began assessing my surroundings, as was expected of the Commander of the Elysian Army Corps. The surroundings were wholly unfamiliar. Not a good sign. My senses were painfully aware of all that was going around me, overloaded by different noises as I lay on a bed of what seemed to be straw, scratching at my back uncomfortably.

I turned onto my side, coming face-to-face with a man. My face scrunched up as I looked at him- not for longer than I absolutely had to. His hair was greying in multiple places, and he had thick, black-rimmed, half-moon glasses perched upon his nose in a manner that practically screamed superiority. He appeared to be a doctor of some sort, but he seemed more like some kind of cultist ritual conductor, considering the place we were in right now. Candles lay lit in lamps in the four corners of the room, chalk drawn up across the floor.

After I had taken a few moments to orient myself, I took a look at the woman who had been called ‘Mrs Irvine’ just a few moments earlier. I suppose it would make more sense for me to call her ‘Mother’, as, with my current grasp on the situation, that was what she appeared to be. I would not call her beautiful— rather, she emanated a warmth that seemed to draw all those around her towards her in a motherly sense. I, even, felt the urge to be held in her arms. Her figure was slender and lean, with an angular, perky nose, stark, green eyes, and the reddest hair I had seen yet, changing from orange to red by the tips. Curling down her body in waves, it seemed to lick her shoulders like the very flames it shared a colour with. 

She immediately bent over me, wrapping me in a hug. Feeling oddly safe, I tentatively wrapped my arms around her body. 

If this was my previous body, I’d have been easily able to wrap my arms around her. Yet here, my arms seemed to stop halfway. Just how old was this body? If I had to guess, maybe four or five? It was hard to ascertain; perhaps I’d ask later with the pretence of amnesia due to whatever ‘fall’ had placed this body in this state.

Another set of hands wrapped around my waist. Larger, more firm— my eyes glanced to the side. A well-built man, perhaps with the same level of muscle as my soldiers, with auburn hair, blue eyes, a perky nose, and stubble that scratched my face as he embraced me. It was rather odd, being embraced by family. I supposed this was my ‘Father’.  

Once they let go (albeit unwillingly, it appeared the doctor in the corner still had something to say), I relaxed back onto the bed, auburn hair spreading across my forehead. 

“Your son, Malik—“

‘Malik’. It appeared that was my name in this life.

“—will be fine with some rest.” 

With that, the doctor left.

From there, the days were simply a blur. I began to spend time getting used to my new surroundings, and this four-year-old body of mind I could barely control at best. Walking was tough— I was used to having longer legs, so I occasionally tripped over my own feet. The place with the candles and the straw bed seemed to be my room, I had gathered. Not only that, but this place was far more underdeveloped and archaic than the floating city I was far too used to.

It also appeared I was a farm boy. However, my father was an adventurer, and would spend his time training outside. It was on one such occasion I sat, watching as he raised his blade. It wasn’t long before a white, energy-looking substance coated the wooden blade he had been holding.

An energy I was all too familiar with from my old life. That was a plus. However, utilising it would be difficult in this underdeveloped, human body. Elysians were simply filled to the brim with the stuff— they were made from it, coated with a shell, so it was infinite. Humans on the other hand, they had a meagre understanding of it’s true nature:

The soul.