I have, at multiple points in my life, found myself in horrible situations where I couldn't do anything to rescue myself. I have seen myself in predicaments where I simply accepted my fate and surrendered to the flow of destiny, even though the process and the outcome were never what I desired. At some point in life, I came to accept that not just me, but a vast majority of the people in this world are slaves to fate. We are all helpless against fate. No matter our age, status, or wealth, we are all pawns in the hands of fate.
But still, there is a painful but undeniable truth I came to realize later in life. Although we are all helpless against fate, there are still a few people who are beloved by it. These people hardly find themselves in uncontrollable situations. And even if they do find themselves in unfavorable predicaments, their fate is altered for their sake. As long as they truly desire it, nothing becomes a true hindrance to them. They either grow stronger from perilous situations or are pulled out of such situations when it becomes too much to handle. One certain thing is that such people never truly experience a setback.
Watching the detonator being pushed by the man's thumb, I made a silent wish within myself. I hoped for fate to hearken to my unbreakable desire not to die. For the thousandth time in my life, I wished I was among those beloved by fate.
The sound of sirens blasting loudly around me brought my consciousness back.
"Uhgh… my head."
I felt an unexplainable pain constantly blooming within me. Each passing second brought unbearable pain. I tried prying my eyes open and noticed I couldn't see a thing. I tried again and confirmed that I had already opened both eyes, yet I still couldn't see anything.
"I'm blind. Tragic. However, considering the immense brightness and heat from the explosion, blindness shouldn't be a shocking aftereffect."
Summoning every ounce of strength within me, I pushed my body slightly to the side in order to get a complete feel of my body beneath the rubble. One of my legs was missing. I could only feel from my thigh upwards.
Concentrating on my other leg, I felt how mashed up it was. I didn't even get a proper response from the leg when I tried to move it. I knew the leg was there, but it was useless.
"Anna!"
Straining my heavily aching head, I vividly recalled grabbing her arm before the explosion.
"We were together… even though she was closer to the explosion than I was."
Hoping for her survival, I ignored the agony that came from moving my body and focused on my left hand—the hand that had grabbed her.
Navigating through the darkness my eyes offered me, I relied entirely on my sense of touch.
Immense relief washed over me when I realized that somehow, I could still feel my arm painfully clinging to some fleshy solid substance. Willing myself to endure the pain—which intensified with every passing second—I drew the arm in my hand closer toward myself.
"Huh?"
The arm came easily toward me. It lacked the weight that would come from pulling an entire person. Shock, panic, flabbergastion, and all kinds of conflicting emotions swirled inside me.
Moving the arm toward my mangled legs, I attempted to rely entirely on my sense of touch, despite how dampened and damaged it was.
Using my skin receptors, I discovered that the arm in my hand did not extend beyond my knees.
Which meant her entire body had been blown apart during the explosion without me noticing.
I tried to scream, but only a hoarse, empty sound escaped from my throat. I tried to stand, but my body protested as if reminding me of my paralyzed state. I tried to cry, but all I felt was pain from my damaged eye sockets.
So I screamed internally.
I agonized internally.
I cried internally.
Weakness completely overtook every part of me. My already dwindling consciousness faded even faster. The pain rising within me every second increased faster than I could count.
My body ached.
My body bled.
My brain struggled to stay alive.
My soul struggled to leave my body.
Suddenly, breathing became difficult.
Painfully, I moved my hand to the top of my chest and discovered multiple shrapnel pieces resting deep within it.
"I've been bleeding from my chest all along… huh."
Coming to this realization, a depressing, sorrowful chuckle escaped from my battered and worn-out lips.
"Of course I was never loved by fate. I was meant to die today from the very beginning."
Pain engulfed my entire body as I felt the rate of my heartbeat lessen. A sharp shiver ran through my spine as a particular cold enveloped me. A kind of cold that descends only when one is about to be embraced by the cold hands of death.
Releasing my hold on Anna's arm, I once again accepted my fate.
"Moving… I'm… I'm moving."
Regaining consciousness, I sensed myself moving at a speed I had never experienced before. A speed a human body should not be able to withstand.
Getting a grip on myself, I tried to get a proper sense of my surroundings.
"I don't have eyes."
I could see, but these were not eyes.
As my consciousness awakened further, I sensed every part of my being and realized something strange.
I didn't even have a body.
I could clearly remember how battered, mashed, and minced my body was before I died. Obviously, it would be impossible for me to still have one.
But still…
"How am I seeing?"
Examining every part of myself, I surprisingly discovered that I could extend my consciousness, and this discovery led me to uncover the nature of my existence.