Life Beyond End

The moment Flynn's body surrendered to exhaustion, the warmth around him evaporated like mist. His mind jolted awake, his senses instantly alert. He wasn't in his bed anymore. Instead, he stood in an endless expanse of pure white.

He turned, looking around. There was nothing. No horizon, no ground, no walls—just an infinite void. The silence pressed against his ears, heavy and unnatural.

Where... where the heck am I?

Panic bubbled in his chest as his breath quickened. He slapped his cheek, hard enough to sting, then pinched his arm for good measure.

"Shit." The word escaped his lips in a whisper. This wasn't a dream.

Flynn spun around again, his voice breaking the suffocating silence. "What is this place?!"

As if the void itself answered, a deep, resonant voice echoed all around him.

"Hello, Flynn."

The voice sent a shiver down his spine. It was calm, firm, yet it carried an authority that made Flynn's knees feel weak. Slowly, he turned toward the source.

His breath hitched.

Standing before him was... himself.

No, not quite. The figure was older, his face sharper, his posture commanding. It wasn't Flynn—it was Thomald, the person he had been in his past life.

Flynn's throat went dry. He stumbled back a step, his voice cracking as he stammered, "W-who are you!?"

The figure didn't answer. Instead, its form began to shift, rippling like liquid glass. In seconds, it melted into a small, swirling black sphere that floated before him.

Flynn blinked, struggling to process what he was seeing. "What the hell...?"

The sphere pulsed faintly, its voice now steady and calm. "I am Alfonze. The Fraijin who reincarnated you."

Flynn's heart raced as the name sparked something in his memory. That voice... He had heard it before, hadn't he?

"Alfonze?" Flynn frowned, his confusion deepening. "But wait—you're supposed to have a body, right? Aren't you some kind of celestial or something?"

Alfonze sighed, the sound oddly human despite his current form. "I had a body, yes. But I merged it with yours the moment you agreed to my request back on Earth."

Flynn's mind reeled. He opened his mouth, then closed it, struggling to find the right words. "Oh... right. I remember now." His voice trailed off as the weight of that memory settled over him.

But his confusion quickly gave way to irritation. His fists clenched, his voice rising. "What do you want from me? Why bring me here?"

The sphere floated closer, its tone growing serious. "Flynn, are you really going to let this destroy you?"

Flynn's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Alfonze's voice sharpened, frustration bleeding through his calm exterior. "You've been given a second chance at life. A chance to redeem yourself, to make things right. And yet, you're wasting it on guilt and self-pity!"

Flynn's chest tightened as Alfonze's words cut deep. He shook his head, his voice cracking. "You don't understand. I didn't choose this! Everyone I cared about—they're gone! And it's all my fault!"

The void seemed to tremble with the force of his shout, but Alfonze remained still.

"Flynn."

His name wasn't shouted, but the weight behind it was undeniable. Flynn froze, his anger faltering under the sheer gravity of Alfonze's tone.

"You saw the vision," Alfonze said, his voice low but firm. "You're not the only one suffering in this universe."

Flynn opened his mouth to argue but found no words. His chest felt heavy, his throat tight. He wanted to deny it, to push Alfonze away, but the truth lingered just beneath the surface.

"I..." Flynn's voice was barely above a whisper. "I couldn't save them..."

"No," Alfonze replied bluntly. "You couldn't. And you won't always be able to. But that doesn't mean you just give up."

The words stung. Flynn's shoulders sagged as he stared at the ground—or whatever passed for the ground in this endless void.

A silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. Then, Alfonze spoke again, his tone softer.

"Think about it, Flynn. Is this really what your father would have wanted for you?"

Flynn's heart clenched. The mention of his father reopened a wound he had tried so hard to ignore.

What would Dad want for me? For me to sit here blaming myself?

His lips trembled as tears welled in his eyes. He closed them tightly, but the images of his father, Faree, and the villagers wouldn't go away.

"I... I don't know anymore..." he admitted, his voice breaking.

Alfonze floated closer, his presence somehow comforting despite his stern tone. "Flynn, you were given a gift. A chance that most people can only dream of. Don't waste it. Live your life to the fullest."

Flynn raised his head, his voice laced with frustration. "And what if I fail again? What if I can't save anyone?"

"Then you get back up," Alfonze said without hesitation. "You fight harder. You learn. This world—every world—is unforgiving. The weak die, and the strong survive. That's just how it is."

Flynn's fists clenched. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to live with this."

"Don't be weak-willed!" Alfonze's voice thundered, reverberating through the void. "You are Flynn, my vessel. You carry the power of a Fraijin. You don't have the luxury of giving up!"

The words struck Flynn like a hammer, each one driving deeper into his chest. His mind raced, a whirlwind of doubt and determination clashing within him.

He took a shaky breath, his voice trembling as he asked, "What if I'm not strong enough?"

"Then become stronger," Alfonze replied simply. His voice softened, taking on a tone that felt almost... human. "Not for me. Not for anyone else. Do it for yourself. For the people you can still protect."

Flynn closed his eyes, his thoughts spiraling. The faces of those he had lost flashed through his mind, but so did the faces of those who still lived—the ones who were counting on him.

Tears slid down his cheeks, but they felt lighter this time, as if some of the weight had lifted.

"You can do this, Flynn," Alfonze said, his voice steady. "But you have to decide. Will you let your grief define you? Or will you rise above it?"

The air in the endless white void seemed to shift as Flynn clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. Every fiber of his being trembled—not from fear, but from a storm building inside him.

No more running.

He took a deep breath, his chest heaving. For the first time in what felt like ages, his thoughts were clear. He could feel the raw weight of everything pressing down on him—his failures, his losses, the faces of those who had depended on him.

They didn't fade. They never would.

But something else stirred alongside the pain. A spark. A fire.

I can't let this be my end. Not again.

Flynn straightened, his eyes narrowing as his jaw tightened. His voice came out low, but firm, like the strike of a hammer against steel. "I will get stronger."

The words seemed to reverberate in the void, cutting through the silence.

Alfonze floated closer, the faint glow of his form pulsing as if in response. "Good," he said, his tone measured but laced with satisfaction. "Say it again."

Flynn's lip curled into something between a snarl and a grin. His voice rose, stronger this time. "I will get stronger!"

"Louder!" Alfonze's tone was electric, almost daring him to unleash everything inside.

Flynn's fists shook as the emotions swirled—anger, regret, hope. He threw his head back, shouting at the void, "I WILL GET STRONGER!"

The words exploded out of him like a roar, filling the infinite space around them. It wasn't just a declaration. It was a promise.

To himself.

To everyone he had failed.

And to the universe that had thrown him into this chaos.

Alfonze's form pulsed again, brighter this time, as though feeding off Flynn's energy. "That's more like it. Now, tell me—how strong?"

Flynn's eyes blazed with determination. He took a step forward, his voice steady and resolute.

"As strong as the gods themselves."

Another step. His hands unclenched, and his arms hung at his sides, relaxed but ready.

"Strong enough to oppose the universe."

His voice grew louder, each word charged with conviction.

"Strong enough to protect everyone."

He could see their faces now—Faree, Daniel, the villagers.

"Strong enough to make it back in one piece."

The weight in his chest lifted, replaced by a fierce determination.

"Strong enough to create realities."

The void around him seemed to hum, resonating with his words.

"Strong enough to not let anyone die."

He didn't notice the tears streaming down his face. He didn't care.

"Strong enough to make my own world."

Alfonze stayed silent, watching, the faint glow of his form intensifying with each word.

"Strong enough to promote peace."

Flynn's voice cracked, but he kept going, his throat burning.

"Strong enough to promote harmony."

His legs trembled, but he didn't stop moving forward.

"Strong enough to promote equality."

His fists clenched again, this time with purpose.

"Strong enough to live."

Each syllable felt like a blow to the doubt that had haunted him.

"Strong enough to see tomorrow."

The fire in his chest burned brighter, hotter.

"Strong enough to see the future."

He felt the weight of the past loosen its grip, just a little.

"Strong enough to forget about the past."

But not entirely.

"Strong enough to learn."

He took another step, his head held high.

"TO PERSEVERE!" His voice boomed, raw and powerful.

"TO PROTECT!"

The void quaked, as if the sheer force of his words could reshape it.

"TO DESTROY!"

His breath came fast and heavy, but he wasn't done.

"TO LOVE!"

For the first time, he allowed himself to think of what could be, rather than what had been.

"FOR ALL!"

His final words echoed, fading into the stillness.

Flynn's chest heaved as he stood there, his heart pounding in his ears. The silence returned, but it wasn't empty. It was charged, alive with the energy he had unleashed.

Alfonze hovered closer, his voice filled with a pride that was impossible to miss. "That's the spirit, Flynn."

For a moment, Flynn almost smiled. The corners of his mouth twitched, but he stopped himself. He wasn't done yet.

Not even close.

The sphere seemed to brighten, its glow pulsating in rhythm with Flynn's resolve. "You're starting to understand. Power isn't just something you take—it's something you earn. And you've got a long road ahead."

Flynn wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand. His voice was rough but steady. "I'll walk it. I'll crawl it if I have to."

"Good," Alfonze replied. "Because there's no turning back now."

As if in response to Alfonze's words, a notification flickered in Flynn's mind.

[Eternal Subversion Lvl. 2]

Flynn's eyes widened as the words etched themselves into his consciousness. His body tingled, a strange warmth coursing through him.

"What...?" he muttered, his voice barely audible.

But before he could process what was happening, the void around him began to ripple. The whiteness warped and twisted, pulling at the edges of his vision.

Flynn staggered, his balance faltering. "What's going on?!"

Alfonze's voice cut through the chaos, steady and firm. "Your journey begins now, Flynn. Don't waste it."

The void tore open, a blinding light swallowing him whole.