The new world sang with life.
Laughter echoed across the rebuilt cities.
Songs of hope rang through shining temples.
Children chased each other through sunlit streets.
And in the center of it all…
was Arin.
Statues were raised in her honor.
Carved from white stone, towering over the cities.
Wings of light sculpted behind her back.
A sword of justice lifted high in one hand.
Paintings filled the halls of power.
Arin standing victorious over a massive, shadowed figure.
Arin crowned by the first sunrise of the New World.
Bards sang songs of her triumph:
"The Hero of the New Dawn!"
"The Slayer of the Abyss King!"
"The One Who Saved Existence!"
And everywhere she walked,
people bowed.
People cried.
People cheered.
But inside…
Inside she bled.
Because she knew the truth.
The "Abyss King" they cursed —
the "Demon" they spat upon —
the "Monster" they erased —
was the boy who gave everything so they could live.
Kai.
Asura.
The boy who died alone.
The boy who saved them all.
The boy no one would remember.
Stories twisted faster than she could stop them.
Children pretended to fight the "Demon of the Abyss" in their games.
Scholars wrote histories declaring Asura a tyrant who sought to erase life itself.
Priests preached about the "evil" that had been vanquished by the Light.
The name Asura became a curse.
An insult.
A warning.
"Beware the Abyss.
Beware the Monster.
Beware the one who seeks to devour the world."
No one knew.
No one cared.
No one remembered.
Except her.
Arin stood at the foot of one of her statues one evening,
watching as children laid flowers and sang songs.
Songs of the Hero.
Songs of the Light.
Songs of lies.
She clenched her fists until her palms bled.
Tears burned her eyes.
Not because they hated him.
But because they had forgotten him.
She whispered under her breath, too soft for anyone to hear:
"He saved you.
Not me.
Not the Light.
Him.
The boy you left behind."
The wind carried her words into the night.
No one heard.
No one cared.
She carried the truth alone.
Because sometimes the greatest burden isn't dying for the world.
It's living in a world that doesn't know who to thank.
And as the stars rose over the new world,
Arin swore again:
"I will remember.
Even if I am the only one.
I will carry his name.
Even if it is cursed.
Even if it is hated.
I will remember Kai.
The boy who loved the world enough to die for it.
Even when the world didn't love him back."
The new world sang.
The new world danced.
The new world worshiped a lie.
But in the quiet, in the places between songs and statues,
one heart kept the truth burning.
A small, stubborn ember.
Refusing to die.
The whisper of a fallen king.
The dream of a broken boy.
The legacy of ruin.