Magnus Numen

An ashen sky… rain poured through the thick clouds, staining the ground with droplets. The rain was intense, but it wasn't even monsoon yet.

The air was stale, and my surroundings were quiet.

I was quiet. It was like I wasn't there… but I wasn't. I watched…

My body couldn't touch a thing. It was like my soul had exited my body and was traveling around the world.

Only the world was Earth.

I floated above cold slabs of cement. It was in a cemetery, surrounded by lush yet cleanly cut greenery.

There were tombs everywhere.

As I floated through the area, I inspected the graves. Some had flowers, and the tombstones were polished. However, others were left with dust.

The dust was washed away, but the dirt and grime remained.

I guess none of their family remained to take care of them. Or, they'd been abandoned…

I tottered across the place, and my frown deepened. As I walked through a certain pathway, I looked forward.

Instantly, my eyes widened. My breath stopped, and so did my motions.

It was like time stopped. It was like a sharp, intense pain grew from my heart. It was like a burden was suddenly placed on my shoulders.

In front of me stood a man… a fairly thin man.

Magnus Numen.

He was nothing like when I lived on Earth. His broad shoulders had disappeared, and his back was hunched.

From the back, his figure seemed so small… so tiny.

His hair, which was always slicked back using gel, was nowhere to be seen. It was now akin to a bird's nest above his head.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I walked forward.

I phased through him, and saw my tomb. It was clean and new… maybe a few weeks old.

Engraved on it were a few words.

Noah Numen : 2009 - 2023.

It symbolized my death. The pain in my heart intensified, but it grew out of control as I turned around.

My dad's emerald eyes had lost their luster. The playful nature had faded. There was emptiness in those eyes… nothing else.

His moustache had grown out of control, while a beard had began growing on his face.

It seemed he hadn't shaved in a while. His clothes were torn to rags, while a blank expression was plastered over his face.

I averted my gaze, unable to bear it.

My father remained there for a few minutes before letting out a sigh dripping with sorrow. It was like he'd given up on life.

He turned around before slowly making his way to our home.

I followed him.

A part of brain was busy figuring out how I got here, and another part of me was wondering about my dad's health.

As he approached our house, instead of heading inside, he snuck through an alley beside our house.

It was one I'd never seen.

Confused, I followed him through the alley.

After walking for a few minutes, he collapsed on the floor next to a sheet of fabric. Beside him was a jar with a few coins, and a half-eaten, wet sandwich.

My eyes widened.

'W–Why is he sitting here?' I wondered. There had to be an explanation. He wouldn't act like a homeless person without a reason.

I stood there for hours.

Time passed, and my dad simply sat there. He often broke into sobs and covered his face with his hands.

I couldn't bear it.

More time passed. His sobs became more distinguishable, and he began coughing.

He didn't eat. He didn't move from his spot, simply sitting there as if that was all there was left to his life.

Days passed, and I stood there. My dad didn't move. He fell asleep one day.

He didn't wake up.

His body dried up, but before he died, he whispered one word…

"Noah."

Then he died. I couldn't even say goodbye, considering my body could phase through things. I tried screaming, but nothing worked.

He died because of me.

While sitting in his spot idly, a few people walked past him. He begged them for food, but no one responded.

They shook him off.

While sobbing, he mentioned quitting his job because of the emptiness in his life.

I was responsible for his death. The only person whom I loved… he died. I broke into tears and sobs.

I wept and wept for who knows how long.

It was the worst day of my life.

It was sickening.

I fucking hated this life. I wanted to die. So what if I was the Prophetic Child? So what if I wanted to meet my mother and become strong?

My dad was worth more than that shit. But now he was gone.

What did I live for? Who did I live to please? Who cared for me? Who did I care for?

What did I believe in? Whom did I believe in?

Suddenly, a blinding light shone, and my body was encased in a cold atmosphere. I shivered. Then, my vision went blank.

*

I screamed as I sat up. My surroundings were dark, and my lower body was warm. It wasn't long before I realized I was wrapped in a blanket.

We'd returned from Kronos's palace.

I clutched my temples in an attempt to alleviate the excruciating pain that assaulted them. My heart sank as I recalled the memories.

My dad… he'd died, hadn't he?

How long had passed on Earth? The pain only increased as I recalled the memories… my dad's sobs, his soft muttering, his regrets, his pitiful figure.

It was all heart-wrenching. I fucking hated it.

"It was all a dream," I attempted to convince myself. "It wasn't real. Everything that happened was a nightmare. It didn't actually happen. Dad is alive."

I didn't know how much of it I truly believed. My heart continued to ache, but the pain in my temples lessened a bit.

I repeated those words like a chant. It was like they were sacred.

Dad was alive…

Right?