Sam’s sword hovered above the Demon Commander’s neck, the blood-streaked blade trembling in his grasp. The towering figure of the demon, despite the gaping wound carved into its chest, smirked faintly. Blood oozed from its mouth, pooling at the corners of its lips. Even in its final moments, its malevolence remained unshaken.

  “Any last words, demon scum?” Sam growled through gritted teeth. His voice shook—not from hesitation, but from the raw storm of emotions roiling inside him.

  The demon’s eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction as it coughed weakly. “C-con...gra…tu…lations…” it rasped, its words broken and choked. “You… defeated… the weakest… of us. Twenty… pawns… nothing more. This… isn’t… over… The real demons… will come… We will… return… stronger… and you… will die… alone.”

  The words hit Sam like a punch to the gut, but he wouldn’t let them take root. “Shut up!” he spat, his voice cracking. With a sharp cry, he brought the sword down.

  The blade severed the demon’s neck in a clean arc. Its head hit the bloodied floor with a dull thud, the faint smirk frozen on its lifeless face. Silence fell over the battlefield.

  Sam stumbled back, the shadow blade dissolving into nothingness as he stared at the corpse before him. Around him lay a grotesque tableau—twisted demon bodies, pools of crimson spreading across the ruined floor, the air thick with the acrid stench of blood and death.

  His hands trembled as he looked down at them—stained red, sticky and warm. His breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps. His stomach turned violently, and for a moment, he thought he would vomit.

  What have I done?

  His chest ached, the weight of it unbearable. He turned to look for his parents, desperation clawing at him. “Mum! Dad!” he cried, his voice hoarse, frantic. “Where are you?! Please!”

  Panic surged through him as he stumbled over bodies and broken debris, his vision blurring with tears.

  Don’t let it be too late. Please.

  “Open shop!” he barked at the system, his mind racing as he searched for anything—anything—to save them. His eyes scanned the glowing interface until they landed on the Tier 4 Healing Potion. The cost nearly wiped out his credits, but he didn’t care.

  The potion materialized in his shaking hand as he sprinted forward. His heart froze when he saw Claire—slumped against a broken beam, blood seeping from deep gashes across her body.

  “Mum!” he cried, dropping to his knees beside her. “Please, hold on! You’ll be okay.”

  Claire’s eyelids fluttered weakly as she turned toward him. “S-Sam…” she whispered, her voice faint and fragile. “You’re… safe…?”

  “Drink this,” Sam choked out, uncorking the potion and pressing it to her lips. “Please, Mum! Just drink it!”

  She hesitated, her gaze softening as she saw the desperation in his eyes. “Okay…”

  Claire sipped the potion, and almost immediately, a soft green mist enveloped her. Her wounds began to close, the blood flow stopping, and her breathing steadied. She let out a shaky gasp, the pain receding from her face.

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  Sam exhaled in relief but didn’t stop. “Dad!” He turned sharply to Caross, whose body was sprawled near the remains of a shattered table. Sam scrambled to his side, pouring the remaining potion into his father’s mouth.

  The green mist worked its magic again, sealing the deep cuts and bruises across Caross’s body. Sam’s trembling fingers searched for a pulse, and when he felt a faint but steady thrum beneath his skin, his heart nearly burst.

  “They’re alive,” he whispered to himself, his voice breaking. “They’re going to be okay…”

  But the weight of the battle and his relief was too much. The adrenaline drained from his body all at once, leaving him hollow and spent. His knees buckled, and he collapsed face-first into the blood-soaked floor.

  Darkness swallowed him whole.

  Sam floated in a void of pure black, the silence suffocating. The weight of everything—the fear, the violence, the blood—crushed down on him. But he was no longer himself. He glanced down at his hands, and his breath caught.

  This is… my old body. From Earth.

  He clutched at his chest, his voice trembling. “Where am I? Am I dead? Did I… fail?”

  “No.”

  The voice rang out clear and melodic, echoing through the void. It was soft yet filled with power, a voice that could bend mountains and calm storms.

  Sam spun toward the source, his eyes widening. The darkness coalesced into light as a figure emerged—a woman of impossible beauty, her golden hair glowing like sunlight, her eyes filled with swirling galaxies.

  “I am Melissa, the goddess who brought you to this world,” she said, her voice serene yet commanding. “You may thank me for granting your wish.”

  “My wish?” Sam’s brows furrowed, anger bubbling beneath the surface. “What wish? I never wished for this!”

  Melissa tilted her head, her faint smile never wavering. “Oh, but you did. You longed for a life of meaning, for a chance to escape the torment of your past. It was your desire that brought you here.”

  “I didn’t wish for this!” Sam shouted, tears streaming down his face. “I didn’t wish to see my parents bleeding! To fight monsters! To… to feel this alone!”

  Melissa’s smile faltered, her gaze softening. “The path to strength is never easy. You were chosen because you have the will to endure it. And for your struggle, you have earned both a gift and an answer.”

  Sam clenched his fists, his voice trembling. “Why? Why me? Why does it have to be me?”

  “Because, little one,” Melissa said softly, “you are stronger than you believe. Even in your darkest moments, you endure. That is why you were chosen.”

  She reached out, and a faint glow surrounded Sam. “Your gift will reveal itself when you need it most.”

  “And what about my parents? Will they be safe?”

  Melissa’s gaze darkened, and for the first time, she looked almost sorrowful. “That is for you to ensure. This world is cruel, Sam. But you… you have the power to protect what you love. Do not waste it.”

  Sam stared at her, tears pooling in his eyes as her form began to dissolve back into mist.

  “Wait!” he cried, reaching out. “What if I can’t do it? What if I’m not enough?”

  Melissa’s voice echoed as the void began to fade. “You are enough, Sam. Remember that.”

  Sam’s eyes snapped open. He was back in his home, his body heavy and aching. The familiar walls surrounded him, and sunlight streamed weakly through the cracked window.

  “Sam!” Claire’s voice rang out as she rushed to his side. She pulled him into a crushing embrace, her tears warm against his neck. “Thank the heavens. You’re awake!”

  Sam buried his face in her shoulder, his small body trembling as he let himself cry. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry for everything.”

  Claire shook her head, stroking his hair. “You saved us, Sam. Don’t ever apologize for that.”

  Caross stood in the doorway, his face softer than Sam had ever seen. “You’re stronger than I could’ve imagined, son. We’re proud of you.”

  In that moment, Sam felt the burden of everything he had endured—the blood, the pain, the fear. He looked at his hands, still faintly stained, and whispered to himself:

  “Even someone like me… someone who’s always been weak and worthless… has a place in this world. Maybe I’m not special. Maybe I’m just normal. But even that has worth.”

  Claire kissed the top of his head, her voice gentle. “You’re far from normal, Sam. You’re extraordinary.”

  And as Sam clung to her, his tears finally drying, he made a vow to himself:

  I’ll carry this burden. I’ll get stronger. I’ll protect them—no matter what it takes.

  The shadows may have claimed his hands, but his heart remained his own.I