As Darren sat on the bus, he closed his eyes, letting the heat of the event pass through him. He hated it when his anger was stirred. When he was angry, his whole identity supported it. It didn't matter if he was about to commit murder or something else that was unforgivable; whatever made up his personality didn't care. It whole-heartedly supported him in whatever he did, and it gave him the confidence to try and succeed at many things.

So from a very young age Darren had lived in fear of himself. He tried to be careful with everything he did; never too much or too little. He tried his hardest to apply himself in just the right amount for everything he did, and god forbid he had any ambitions. His confidence in himself was so high that he didn’t even dare to have thoughts of power. If someone like me had any sort of power… He thought solemnly before shaking his head and putting a smile on his face. Of course I’ll never become powerful. I’m just a normal person. I’ll live a quiet life, struggling to get by before dying peacefully. The world is so big and a person can only do so much. I’d be satisfied to just live to a ripe old age. Darren thought, trying to convince himself.

When he was young, he instinctively dealt with himself by suppressing his ego and attempting to break his own confidence. But as he grew older he slowly realized how talented he was. So currently, he soothed himself by just completely shutting off any thoughts that might lead to him thinking he was better.

The only thing he was holding onto on top of the raging sea that was his ego was that he was born human. He bled like a normal person and he got sick like a normal person, and eventually he would die like a normal person. He often had soothing dreams of being old and weak; dreams of having lived a satisfying life. This simple thought… This idea that he was human… It’s what kept him sane through all these years. I’m a normal person, and I have a chance to live a good life. Let’s not fuck it up. He thinks with a deep breath.

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So it was for this reason that he lost it when that kid called him Son of Heaven. It was as if he was saying that he was better, that he was more than what a normal person would be. This was an idea that went against all his ideals and it infuriated him.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Darren told himself as he tried to ignore any thoughts regarding the event. I’m a normal person. I’m a normal person. And this… Is a normal world… He thinks with another breath.

Suddenly Darren sensed something unusual and before he knew it, the bus was screeching in an attempt to stop, causing Darren to plunge forward and hit his head on the seat in front of him. And before he could process the situation, he felt a moment of weightlessness. Then, a deep impact hit the bus, rocking everyone inside. People fell and were slammed against the objects in the bus, and when Darren had a moment to look around, the surroundings had become darker.

But the bus still felt like it was moving. Darren looks out of the front window and the bus was continuing to move forward in a dark and lightless place, with no one in the driver seat.

“Someone grab the wheel!” Darren yells, but when he looks around he saw that no one had it in them to respond. People were groaning in pain and the driver was on the floor and seemed to have lost consciousness.

“Fuck!” Darren exclaims before walking carefully to the driver’s seat. He grabs the wheels and presses on what he assumed was the breaks. When the bus slowed to a stop, Darren messed around with the gears till he assumed that he had put it into park. He released the breaks slowly and let out a breath when the bus didn’t move.

Fuck. What happened? Darren asks himself.