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With a gradual, almost reluctant movement, X-204's eyes flickered open.

Instantly, a blinding, bright light reflected onto his face, causing him to instinctively shield his eyes with his hands. It was then that he realized his hands not only felt peculiar, but they also looked different.

Alarmed once more, X-204 scanned his surroundings and noticed figures dressed in white clothing encircling him. Their mouths were stretched unnaturally on each end of their faces, with some even exposing the white bones beneath their mouths.

His gaze shifted to the person whose hand he found himself in. Similar to the beings surrounding him, she wasn't clad in white, but rather a blue gown. Her face bore signs of strain and exhaustion, as if she might lose consciousness any moment. Despite this, her grip remained firm, and her eyes held a loving affection as they locked onto him.

Strangely, X-204 felt a sense of comfort within her embrace.

He then observed the being standing beside her, someone who also seemed eager yet reluctant to take him from her hands. This being, like the others, wasn't dressed in white. The dynamics among them were puzzling.

As confusion swirled within X-204, a torrent of questions flooded his mind: "How did I end up here? What brought me here?"

'Last I remember…'

Recollections of the halls, pods, and his previous encounters began to surge through his thoughts.

'The last I remember… I should be dead.'

In an instant, blurry images transformed into a whirlwind of scenes as his memories came rushing back at an exhilarating pace.

In the midst of this deluge, he realized those weren't mere scenes; they were his memories.

Understanding dawned upon him, and he pieced together the earlier events. The odd sense of security, the fragments of familiarity, and the initial gaps in his memories—everything now made sense.

The memory of the phrase "Cycle of Evolution," the only thing that seemed to survive his awakening, now held its significance. This phrase was the reason for his creation after all, the guiding objective of it all.

The orchestrator behind this grand design was simply known as The Oracle, an enigmatic entity with inscrutable motives. X-204 and his counterparts were created to execute a process known as 'The Cycle of Evolution,' deemed crucial for the advancement of life forms in the universe.

Two Dyyx were dispatched to an assigned planet, where they were fated to follow a predestined path set by The Oracle. Stripped of memories and attachments, driven solely by a quest for strength and mutual animosity, they grew—one as the protagonist, the other as the antagonist. Their stories inevitably collided in a battle with the planet's fate hanging in the balance. Good triumphed over evil, and the protagonist guided the planet into a new era.

Upon the completion of their role, the Dyyx were reclaimed by The Oracle, destined to hibernate until the assigned planet was deemed ready for another evolution. Then, with memories erased, they were sent back, to repeat a slightly altered version of the same process and goal.

In X-204's case, his antagonist was the Dyyx who had stood by his side at the Dispatch Center—Y-204—and their assigned planet was B-23, known to its inhabitants as Earth.

As he recalled more, his gaze settled upon his parents, who still smiled despite their dire circumstances. X-204 felt a wave of pity for them; they were the unfortunate victims in this cyclic drama.

He had been through this before, and he knew he wasn't the blessing they thought he was, his presence brought misfortune to those who cherished him. His past lives flashed before him, memories of their tragic fates replaying in his mind.

X-204 reached out with his tiny hand, a silent attempt to touch his mother's chin as her consciousness teetered on the edge.

Yet, in the midst of this, another memory snippet emerged, causing him to pause, his face contorting with emotion.

Another memory? How?

It depicted his last time on Earth.

The memory raced through his mind: from his infancy to childhood, youth to maturity. It slowed at a particular scene.

A young statuesque man with an air of elegance, his white hair cascading around his face, appeared frail as his body bore the marks of numerous wounds.

Blood flowed steadily from his right hand, the absence of a fist evident. Yet, his injuries extended beyond that, with scars, bruises, and burns marring his body.

While his emerald eyes typically exuded vitality and hope, they now seemed devoid of life, a stark contrast.

Discarding a shattered sword from his left hand, he kept his unwavering gaze fixed on the person before him.

His mutilations, pain, and fading consciousness appeared inconsequential as he ignored them, clad in mere fragments of clothing.

As X-204's eyes met the figure who held the complete attention of the white-haired man, his heart raced, and the name 'Aurora' echoed within him.

It was as though he gazed upon a goddess he'd never even dreamt of encountering, yet here she stood, not only acknowledging him but looking at him with affection.

He understood why the white-haired man was so entranced by her that he disregarded his own well-being.

Her crimson braids danced in the wind, framing a caramel-kissed complexion that radiated both strength and softness. Her ice-blue eyes held an enigmatic chill, capable of uncovering secrets hidden deep within a soul.

Clad in form-fitting black leather, she exuded confidence. A katana, stained and dripping blood, rested in her hand, while an ump hung over her shoulder.

Locked in an intense gaze, both parties held unspoken words, a reluctance to break the silence apparent in their expressions.

Unexpectedly, tears welled in Aurora's eyes, shattering her strong, independent facade.

With a bashful smile, the white-haired man attempted to wipe away her tears, his hand halting midway as he remembered his lost wrist.

Undeterred, he withdrew his hand, embarrassed yet relieved. Aurora comprehended the situation and offered a brief smile. In that fleeting moment, he forgot the weight he carried.

Gently, she brushed the tears away with her fingers, reaching for his face with a tender touch, unmindful of the blood.

He reciprocated by nuzzling her hand, finding solace in the connection.

Then, the words he had only imagined before now resounded in reality.

Though soft, they reverberated through his being.

"I love you."

As he met her gaze, he noticed warmth replacing the coldness in her eyes, thawing his heart and body.

"I love you too," he whispered.

Their eyes locked again before, wordlessly, they closed the gap between them, lips meeting in a fervent kiss.

In that moment, X-204 wished for time to stand still, basking in their embrace, but reality called them back.

As they reluctantly parted, their eyes conveyed a shared dissatisfaction, understanding that this wasn't the time or place to linger.

A sudden tremor shook the ground, displacing people and objects alike, while the sky transformed into a fiery red.

Objects ablaze rained down from above, plunging the tranquil area into disarray. Smoke billowed, flames danced, the earth quaked, and the air filled with the cacophony of screams and cries, as death cast its shadow.

Amidst this chaos, the white-haired man and Aurora stood, their gaze fixed upon the unfolding pandemonium, their faces etched with uncertainty. Though they had foreseen this catastrophe, a sliver of hope had clung to them, wishing against the inevitable.

In the midst of their contemplation, a chopper descended with urgency nearby. A middle-aged man, slightly portly and clad in camouflage, dashed toward them, signaling them to board. Regrettably, their attention remained unswayed, disinterested in his pleas.

Yet, as the scene unfolded, a peculiar sensation gripped the white-haired man's essence. He cast a swift glance upon his dissipating form and then met Aurora's eyes. Amidst the bedlam, her tear-laden gaze spoke volumes, even if her words were lost to the chaos. Her message resonated clearly, "Don't worry snow top, it'll be fine…just, just promise you won't forget me, you won't forget us."

"Wait..no..Noo!"

Within him, anxiety surged, a futile resistance to the fading tide. Helplessly, he watched the growing chasm that separated him from his beloved. As his presence waned, he captured a final glimpse of the conflagration devouring his surroundings. Aurora's figure remained fixed, an emblem of strength amid the crumbling reality.

Aware that complete dissolution would rob him of both his world and his love, the white-haired man grappled with his powerlessness. His existence dwindled, a silent observer as the flames voraciously consumed everything in their wake.

Fading into slumber, X-204's tears flowed freely. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, memories, and questions.

The weight of it all bore down on him, lulling him into a deep slumber, as his mother watched over him, her eyes filled with a profound love she couldn't put into words.

"He has such a strong gaze," one of the nurses commented softly as she, the doctor, and their colleagues observed X-204's peaceful sleep.

"We'll name him Stare," the man beside her suggested, a touch of amusement in his voice, as they celebrated the birth of a new life and the promise it held.