The Awakening of the Tarantula Emperor

Man was rushing through the hospital corridors. His eyes were fixed on the maternity ward. As soon as he entered, he found the doctor and turned directly to him. The anxiety on his face was evident. "How are they?" he asked.

The doctor shook his head slightly. "Everything is fine; you have a healthy baby boy. You can go in."

These words made the man's heart race. His joy reflected on his face, and without wasting any time, he headed for the room. He opened the door and entered. A woman was lying in bed with a silent baby in her arms. But something was wrong; the baby was quiet. As the man approached, his inner unease grew.

He walked slowly to the woman's side. The baby wasn't moving at all. "Why is he silent?" he asked, his voice shaky and anxious.

The woman looked at her child and replied, "Our son… never cried. The doctors said he is healthy, but…" Her eyes were filled with deep sorrow. "He doesn't react at all; it's as if he feels nothing."

As the man looked carefully at the baby's face, he saw an indescribable emptiness in his eyes. The baby neither looked happy nor distressed. In that moment, he confronted the reality that Aren had felt nothing at his birth. Their son was a cold being, devoid of emotions.

His joy vanished abruptly. He turned back to the doctor, "Why is this happening?" But the answer to this question would remain a mystery that haunted Aren throughout his life.

The doctor hesitated for a moment when he heard the man's question. "We rarely encounter such situations," he said thoughtfully. "Physiologically, he is completely healthy; however, he does not show emotional responses. It's difficult to explain why."

The man's hands turned into fists. Tears silently streamed down the woman's cheeks. Aren lay motionless in her arms; it was as if there was a void beyond emotions.

"How is this possible?" the man whispered, his voice trembling. "How can a baby not feel? What should we do?"

The doctor took a deep breath. "It seems that Aren has an anomaly in his brain development. Sometimes it can be caused by genetic or environmental factors. But at this age, we can only wait and see. Maybe it will change over time."

The woman looked desperately into the doctor's eyes and asked, "But what kind of life can we offer him? How can we cope with a child who does not feel and cannot connect?"

The man's heart filled with growing despair. The baby in his arms was not a being that would fill them with love and hope but merely a void. All their future dreams and disappointments were hidden in that small body.

---

Aren's early years passed just as silently and unresponsive as the moment he was born. While other children played games, Aren always stood off to the side. In elementary school, teachers tried to understand him, but there was no light in Aren's eyes or behavior. When classmates tried to talk to him, he would respond briefly, and nothing seemed to affect him.

When a child approached Aren and asked, "Don't you want to play with us?" Aren always gave the same answer: "I don't want to."

This short and sharp response gradually became well-known throughout the school. Aren was always silent, always alone. No one wanted to play with him because there was no response from Aren. He had neither laughter nor tears.

At home, the situation was no different. His mother and father were growing more distant every day. His mother constantly argued with his father, but these arguments didn't matter to Aren. Everything felt to him like a silent void in the midst of a storm. He would sit in his room, hearing the sounds outside, but they created no meaning within him.

One night, the fight between his parents escalated even further. His mother said she could no longer endure it. "I can't stay in this house anymore."

His father coldly replied, "You know what to do. If you want to leave, then go."

Aren could hear these arguments from his room, but neither his mother's sorrow nor his father's anger left a mark on his heart. The next day, a divorce case was filed, and shortly after, both parents stepped into their new lives. Meanwhile, Aren remained utterly alone in the midst of all that was happening, but even that loneliness held no meaning for him.

His middle school years deepened Aren's silence. While others continued with their lives, he always stood off to the side. Joyful laughter was merely echoes to him. When teachers taught him lessons, Aren's mind was always elsewhere. Everything increased his distance from the world.

One day, when his mother came to his room and asked him why he was so cold, Aren's answer was the same as always: "I'm not distant. I just… can't feel."

Hearing this response, his mother was overwhelmed with tears, but nothing stirred within Aren. He could feel neither his mother's pain nor his own loneliness. Aren simply existed.