History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again.

Hours slipped away unnoticed for the boy, as it always had been. He awoke to find himself lying in a hospital bed. There sat next to him Mayor Gordon, observing him closely.

As it turns out, before he could receive an answer from Mayor Gordon and his guards, he passed out. He looked at him with a gaze filled with several questions. But just as he was about to part his lips to speak, the mayor stared back at him and preemptively answered one of them.

"You stood up, but when you tried walking towards us, you blacked out.", he said.

"A-aa... I see, my body is very weak and I've been awake for 60 hours, no wonder...", the boy replied, his tone remarkably nonchalant as if it was completely normal. It seemed like he had nothing more to say but he was only gathering his thoughts. He paused for a few seconds before he resumed speaking.

In the same calm tone, but now with a little hint of seriousness, he continued, "Thank you, I guess? But what exactly are you doing in my house? Even if you're a mayor, you're still not above the law."

Would you look at that? - Mayor Gordon must have thought so as he cocked an eyebrow. The gravity of his words juxtaposed with the casual nonchalance in his tone. He also had a fearless nature that conflicts with his physical and mental condition.

"The conflicts between multiple nations before World War III were deliberately orchestrated to result in a world war.", Mayor Gordon explained, his tone matter-of-fact, "In fact, the scheme almost had no flaws and it wasn't until seven years into the war that the orchestrators were exposed--"

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"Look here, mister.", the boy interjected. "If you wanna avoid my question, then fine. You don't need to lecture me about history that's taught at kinder."

"The point is.", Mayor Gordon continued undeterred, "World War III was by far the worst war in mankind's history, and even after 40 years had already gone by, we are still suffering from the aftermath, especially children and grandchildren of people who lived during the war. Axel, your mother is a Neuroquilin survivor."

How did he...? - Axel felt overwhelmed by a sense of derealization when he heard those last few words. It hit him like a sledgehammer and the attitude he had completely disappeared. He saw Gordon's mouth moving but he could not hear the words, his racing heart drowned out all sound as an uncontrollable tremor overtook his eyes.

The infant mortality rate soared during World War III. It would be a lie to say that the reason many mothers took the lives of their infants is they do not want their children to live in a period of war, where food is scarce and living makes you want to die. Many women were raped and were forced to have children, most of them became broken and took their lives along with their unborn babies. But some waited to give birth to their children, to satisfy their hunger.

For that reason, an antidepressant medication called "Neuroquilin" was developed to help pregnant women relieve their depression. The said antidepressant, however, proved to be another deadly weapon crafted by the enemies. It treated depressive symptoms among pregnant women to a certain degree and lowered their suicide rate, yes, but it had deadly effects on the babies. Only a few survived, and they suffered various mental disorders. It was later found out that the symptoms that the survivors exhibit could manifest onto their children, and their grandchildren, and so on and so forth.

"Who are you...?", Axel asked, his voice trembling. A hint of fear laced his question.

Gordon responded, "I came from the year 2080. And I need your help."

I ran away while he stayed, he handled what I couldn't, started what I should've, and ended what I didn't. A great man, and he was a lot younger than me. And I was a coward, an old bastard who's too old to be playing pretend.