Kapitel 35: The Present Is Built On The Past

Qein shook his head lightly, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I see..."

Andrew gave him a lingering glance but didn't respond. Instead, he stepped forward, resuming their walk down the uneven path. The forest around them seemed quieter now.

After a few moments of silence, Qein's voice cut through the stillness. "Andrew, what do you want?"

Andrew stopped, glancing back over his shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"You said you do this because you feel unique," Qein said, stepping closer. His tone wasn't accusatory, but there was a probing edge to it. "What happens if one day it turns out you're not as special as you think you are? What then?"

Andrew's brows furrowed, and he turned fully, his expression hardening. "What are you even talking about? Being a tiny bit special is all I need. And I am." His voice grew sharper, more insistent. "I'm a rift fighter. I don't need to be the savior of all the worlds." He gestured vaguely, his frustration evident. "The fact that the system picked me for these missions—ones that others haven't been chosen for—that's good enough. Maybe there are others out there doing the same thing on different worlds. Fine. That doesn't matter to me."

Qein kept his pace steady, his tone unnervingly calm. "So... your purpose, your happiness—maybe even your identity—is just about feeling unique? Being different? Being lucky enough that this 'system' chose you?"

Andrew's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "Yeah. So what?"

For a brief moment, Qein's expression softened, his gaze shifting to something almost pitying. The look wasn't overt, but it was there—subtle and piercing.

And Andrew hated it.

The sight of it cut deeper than he expected, twisting something raw inside him. Those eyes reminded him of his family—the way his mother, father, and siblings (except for his elder brother) had looked at him when he'd tried, desperately, to win their approval.

His teeth ground together audibly. "Say it. Say what the hell you really want to say, Qein!" Andrew stepped closer, his voice brimming with anger. "Because who the hell are you to judge me?!"

Qein stopped walking, his expression unreadable. He glanced at Andrew, his tone quiet, almost detached. "Nothing," he said.

Andrew's hand shot out, grabbing the front of Qein's shirt. He yanked him forward, their faces inches apart, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "No. Say it. Say what's on your mind."

Mella hurried over, tugging at Andrew's wrist. "Andrew, stop! Let him go!"

Qein raised a hand slightly in a gesture of surrender, his tone still maddeningly calm. "I just understand you better now, that's all."

Andrew's glare deepened, his knuckles whitening as he held Qein's shirt. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means," Qein said, tilting his head slightly, "that you're more normal than I thought. A lot more normal."

Andrew blinked, confusion flickering through his anger. His grip loosened slightly as he tried to process the words. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's not an insult," Qein clarified. His tone wasn't mocking or harsh, but there was an undercurrent of something pointed. "But if your happiness—your ego—is built on something that fragile, you're not going to find what you're looking for. You'll just crave more. More validation. More proof that you're special."

Andrew shoved him back, releasing him as his hands trembled with restrained anger. "Don't talk like you know what you're talking about."

Qein stumbled a step before steadying himself. He adjusted his shirt with a shrug, his voice quieter now. "You're right. I don't, not entirely. But I do know a thing or two about happiness and how easily it can be taken away."

The calmness cracked, just slightly, as his tone hardened. "When I saw my home burn—when flames and lightning swallowed everything I cared about—I didn't just lose a place. I lost my happiness. I watched it slip through my fingers, and there was nothing I could do."

Andrew faltered, his anger dimming. His lips parted, but no words came out.

Qein's hands clenched at his sides as he let out a bitter laugh. "You think I didn't feel special? I thought I was untouchable. Talked big as a monster killer. Thought I was on top of the damn world. Invincible." He scoffed, shaking his head. "Then... poof. It was gone. They taught me a lesson I'll never forget."

Andrew opened his mouth to respond again, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he turned sharply and began walking away, his steps heavy and uneven.

Mella hesitated before jogging to catch up with him. She fell into step beside him, glancing up at his face. "Hey," she said softly. "Are you okay?"

Andrew didn't stop walking, his voice curt and tight. "Yeah. Of course."

But his expression told a different story.

They walked in silence for a while longer before the forest began to thin, and a yellow-paved road came into view. The road was busier than expected, with a steady stream of old-timey jeeps trundling along it. Each vehicle released a steady plume of black exhaust, though the gas quickly dissipated, becoming clear before fading entirely.

Qein muttered, "Weird transport."

Mella glanced at him but didn't comment.

After some time, Andrew slowed his pace, glancing sideways at Qein. "Hey."

Qein looked over.

"I'm sorry," Andrew said, his voice quieter than before. "For grabbing you earlier. And for... being kind of a jerk."

Qein shrugged. "It's cool."

Andrew hesitated, then added, "Losing your family and friends like that... It must have been horrible. I've never experienced anything like that, so I can't imagine what it's like."

Qein's gaze flickered with something unspoken, but his voice remained steady. "It was. But I guess... you must be quick to try and reunite with yours, right? I mean, you've been in Aeller for a while, right? How long has it been?"

Andrew hesitated. "Maybe a day. But no, I'm not interested in reuniting with them. Maybe my brother if he was at home. Yeah, my brother. But the others? No."

Qein frowned. "You should. If they die, you won't be able to change anything, no matter how much you regret it."

Andrew's expression darkened. "That's not an issue. They don't like me. They left to live in a city—a city outside of Veilrend. I stayed behind, living a life I didn't like with grandparents I felt nothing for. Grandparents who felt nothing for me."

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