Chapter 1: Rebirth

"How can I save your failed life?"

"There's no other way."

...

At an altitude of 8,000 meters, a white-painted civilian aircraft looked no different from other passenger planes: safe, reliable, and offering a view of a sky blue like a painting.

It's rare to see a woman of 1.85 meters in height, but this urban beauty was at least that tall. High heels, palm-length coat, knitted turtleneck sweater, branded bag, and exquisite makeup, all impeccable. She was an outstanding woman.

She sat silently in her seat, two fingers propped against her chin, gazing at the clouds outside with a melancholy look, lost in memories.

A thud...

A thermos unexpectedly fell to the aisle. The woman had been distracted. Fortunately, the lid was tightly screwed on.

A middle-aged gentleman with glasses hanging from a chain around his neck closed the book he was reading. Politely, he picked up the fallen thermos and handed it to the woman next to him.

"Traveling for work or pleasure?" The balding middle-aged man struck up a conversation. His meticulous attire and glasses made him appear quite scholarly.

"I hope for a bit of both," the woman smiled, showing no aversion to this well-dressed man.

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a model."

The middle-aged man seemed somewhat surprised by her answer."I apologize, I should have guessed," he said.

The woman sensed the compliment hidden in his words and politely thanked him.

"Runway shows or print ads?"

"Runway shows. And you? What do you do?"

The middle-aged man touching his thinning hair."I review books. Disappointed?"

The woman found this intriguing, a distant figure forming in her mind."Not at all," she replied."My first boyfriend was a writer. He didn't earn much, though."

The middle-aged man smirked, his interest piqued,"What was his name?"

The woman waved dismissively with a chuckle, a hint of reminiscence in her eyes,"He's not that famous. During our time together, he did publish some work, but I don't think any of them got printed. His name was Raven."

Hearing the name, the man's expression gradually turned serious. He took off his glasses, murmuring,"Raven... Had I known, I would have said I was in sales, not a book critic."

His gaze shifted away from the woman, staring blankly at the floor, a playful smirk curling at the corner of his mouth."He submitted his work for a writing competition. I was the chairman of the jury then. I criticized him mercilessly."

The woman looked surprised, sensing an unexpected twist of fate."You were too cruel to him. After reading the review, he fell ill and was bedridden for a week."

The man replied earnestly,"I'm sorry. Sometimes, to protect the eyes of readers, one has to hurt the ego of some. Maybe I misjudged at times, but in this case... Raven... His work was... incomprehensible, utterly devoid of talent. Are you still with him?"

She shook her head,"No. We broke up a long time ago, and it wasn't amicable."

The man chuckled,"I thought so. Submitting such work to a contest... He must have had some mental issues. Raven... The entire jury, including myself, laughed at him for months."

Above the plane, the engine's sound was somewhat grating.

Suddenly, a woman, nearly fifty, sitting in the row ahead, stood up, looking utterly shocked. She turned to them,"I overheard your conversation, and I can't believe it... What a coincidence! I was Raven's literature professor at St. Michael's Art Academy."

Both the middle-aged man and the woman were taken aback by the unexpected revelation.

With a look of surprise, Raven's professor continued,"He had to repeat a year. I was the one who informed him. I've been convinced since then that he had some mental issues. In my thirty years of teaching, I've never seen anyone like him. His writings were... morally repugnant."

Before the professor could continue, a stranger's voice interrupted.

"Professor Salmon? It's me, Frank. Do you remember me?"

A young man addressed the professor.

At an altitude of 8,000 meters, the sound of the airplane's operation was unsettling.

The university professor looked utterly shocked, murmuring,"Frank... This is beyond belief. It's as if there's a predestined connection. Isn't Raven a classmate of yours?"

Frank nodded, saying excitedly,"It's such a coincidence. The world really is small, isn't it?"

A middle-aged man, who reviewed books, felt a trace of unease. He asked Frank,"Are you friends with Raven?"

Frank replied,"Yes, but back then, we weren't too kind to him. We always played pranks on him."

Suddenly, a well-dressed man in a suit stood up from his airplane seat, taking a deep breath. He approached the group, his expression incredibly off, and abruptly stated,"This is just too eerie. I manage a supermarket, and Raven... he used to work for us. I had to fire him because he constantly clashed with customers."

The unease in the middle-aged man's heart grew, evolving into a touch of fear. He stood up, sweat forming on his forehead, looking tense. This couldn't be just a coincidence; these strangers were on the same flight at the same time, heading to the same destination, and all of them had some connection to Raven. Three or four was already miraculous... but now a fifth person? There had to be something more to this.

Sweeping his gaze across the plane's passengers, the middle-aged man loudly asked,"Is there anyone else here who knows Raven?"

After a brief silence, the plane erupted in a cacophony. What was once a peaceful flight suddenly felt ignited.

"I do, what about it?"

"I know him too. I'm his landlord."

"Raven... he always buys cigarettes from my store."

...

The chatter filled the entire airplane; everyone had raised their hand. Each passenger on the plane had some connection with Raven.

The middle-aged man's brow furrowed deeply, asking in horror,"Why are all of you on this plane? Did you buy your tickets yourselves?"

Various responses poured in.

"No, I was sent to watch over a farm."

"I'm meeting with a tourism bureau chief; they bought the ticket for me."

"I won the ticket in a lottery. I had to fly today, or I'd lose it."

...

Hearing these answers, the middle-aged man's pupils shrank in realization. His own ticket had been purchased for him by a well-connected superior, suggesting a trip abroad to clear his mind. No one on the plane had bought their ticket themselves. What could be the reason?

Everything might have something to do with Raven.

Soon, the middle-aged man's questions found an answer.

A female flight attendant, staggering and visibly shaken, approached the group. Cold sweat had drenched her back, and she leaned on a nearby seat to steady herself.

The makeup on the flight attendant's face was smeared by sweat, but she no longer cared. With a quivering voice tinged with a sob, she said,"Rav... Raven is the pilot of this plane. We trained together and were friends. Once he asked me out, and I declined. He became erratic afterward. But none of that matters now."

Weakly, she collapsed to the floor, continuing in a sobbing tone,"After the plane took off, he locked himself in the cockpit with a cup of coffee. The pilot isn't responding. I... I don't know what to do..."

Boom!

The revelation hit everyone like a bolt from the blue. Before they could react—

Bang!

The plane seemed to hit turbulence, jolting violently. Glancing out the windows, it was evident the plane was in a rapid descent.

An elderly man with graying hair rushed to the locked cockpit door, using all his strength to pound on it, calling out desperately,"Raven! It's John, John Jensen. Come out and talk to me, please!"

In the midst of the violent shaking, the middle-aged man struggled to reach the elderly gentleman, hoping he might be of some assistance.

"Who are you to Raven?" The middle-aged man asked the old man.

"I was his psychiatrist. Once, I raised the cost of his treatment, perhaps too much, and it angered him. He stopped coming to see me," the old man responded, as he desperately pounded on the cockpit door."Open up, Raven! Listen to me! None of this is your fault. You're a victim of the circumstances, all stemming from your parents! Ever since they adopted you, they placed an overwhelming amount of expectations on you. They projected their frustrations onto you, they caused your suffering, not us!"

Raven's first girlfriend scrambled to the window. The sight of the plane plummeting towards the city below distorted her features with terror, and she let out an animal-like scream.

The cabin was filled with the sounds of shrieking and desperate cries, with futile attempts to break down the cockpit door.

The pilot, Raven, had come prepared.

...

No matter the reason, humans have a penchant for tormenting one another in diverse and inventive ways.

This spectacle was an impeccable act of revenge, one for the history books.

The descent continued...

4000 meters...

3000 meters...

Inside the cockpit, a man of about twenty-five or twenty-six years slumped in his seat. He nonchalantly smoked a cigarette, legs sprawled disrespectfully over the control panel. His pale skin, almost sickly, gave his handsome face a sinister aspect, and even the long hair he kept for a touch of artistic flair seemed eerie.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

The desperate pounding on the cockpit door continued, but Raven seemed unaffected, staring ahead with a complex expression.

The plane plummeted toward the city below at a rapid pace. People on the streets looked up and began to scatter in panic.

Still, the descent went on...

2000 meters...

1000 meters...

The point of impact was set to be Raven's parents' residence.

The two individuals, engrossed in their newspapers by the poolside in their backyard, remained oblivious until the overpowering roar of the plane filled their ears. They stood and turned, looking up in shock at the incoming aircraft.

100 meters...

50 meters...

This was an intricately planned, grand act of murder.

"Only this can salvage my wasted life."

"There's no... other way."

BOOM!

A deafening explosion resonated throughout the city. The blast's heatwave consumed everything, turning the surroundings into what looked like purgatory.

Was the echoing sound inside my skull a moan or a melody? It readjusted everything within me, morphing me into the right version.

My past self has met its end, and a renewed me emerges.