The night sky was a canvas of stars, stretching far beyond the city's towering skyline. Kairos stood at the edge of the rooftop, staring out at the horizon. He felt an eerie sensation creeping up his spine—a tugging, gnawing feeling, as though something inside him had awakened and was trying to break free. He had felt it before, on sleepless nights when memories that didn't belong to him flickered in his mind. Fragments of lives, faces, voices, and places that felt more familiar than anything in his current existence.
"Maybe I'm losing my mind," he muttered, rubbing his temples. The strange feeling wasn't new. In fact, it had been growing stronger over the past few weeks.
A sudden, sharp pain exploded in his chest, forcing him to his knees. His vision blurred, and the world around him seemed to spin wildly, distorting in a way that left him feeling nauseous. He gasped for air, but it felt as if something was choking him, something beyond the physical.
In a flash, his surroundings changed. The rooftop, the city lights, everything vanished, replaced by the warmth of a vast, open field beneath a golden sun. He could hear the clang of metal, the sounds of battle—a chaotic noise that set his heart pounding with adrenaline. The breeze carried the scent of smoke and blood.
"Focus," a voice urged from within him—deep, commanding, yet unmistakably familiar. It was a voice that wasn't his own. The memories flooded his mind like a rushing river. He saw flashes of himself as a warrior—tall, strong, and surrounded by ancient ruins. A sword gripped tightly in his hand, his armor gleaming in the sunlight. He felt the weight of it all—the battle, the responsibility, the lives of thousands hanging in the balance.
His breath hitched. A king. He had been a king. His name was not Kairos, not this life. He was someone else.
Suddenly, the vision broke apart, shattering like glass, and he was back on the rooftop, breathless, gasping. His hands were shaking as the last remnants of the memory lingered, a phantom ache in his chest.
"What the hell was that?" He staggered to his feet, the air around him thick with confusion. His mind was a battlefield of fragmented lives—each one a shadow, haunting him, pulling at his very soul.
"You are waking up," the voice spoke again, not aloud, but inside his mind. It was the same voice that had guided him during the vision, yet it wasn't quite his own.
Kairos stumbled back, his eyes darting around. "Who... who are you?" His voice trembled, the feeling of being watched overwhelming.
"You are Kairos, yes, but you are also much more. Your journey is not over, not yet," the voice replied cryptically. "This is the first of many awakenings. The Circle of Rebirth has been watching you, waiting for the moment when you would remember. They know of your power, but you have yet to understand its true extent."
Kairos clenched his fists, confusion and anger swelling within him. "The Circle of Rebirth? What are you talking about? What power?"
"The power of your past lives," the voice whispered. "It is time to awaken. You are not just a man; you are an eternal soul, reincarnated over and over, each life a piece of something greater. The power you inherit with each rebirth is yours to wield. But it is also a curse."
Kairos' head spun. His body felt heavy with the weight of the revelation. He remembered—no, he sensed—that there were others like him. People who carried the burden of reincarnation, who could tap into their past selves. But he had never believed it was real. Now, with every heartbeat, the memories of his previous life surged forward like waves crashing against a shore, and he couldn't fight them.
"Why now?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "Why am I just remembering this now?"
"Because," the voice replied, "you have been chosen to fulfill a purpose. The time has come to confront the Circle. They are hunting those like you—Reincarnates who can alter the course of history with their powers. They want control, and you must stop them before they rewrite the cycle of reincarnation itself."
Kairos' heart raced. "And what am I supposed to do with all of this? I don't even know who I am anymore!"
"Not yet," the voice responded, its tone gentle now. "But you will. The more you remember, the stronger you become. You will have to face the truth of your past—of the kings, warriors, healers, and scholars you have been. You will need them all to fight what is coming."
The wind picked up, and Kairos' breath caught in his throat as a sharp, electric pulse surged through his veins. The sensation was alien yet familiar, as though his body was awakening to a long-forgotten truth.
"I don't know if I can do this," he muttered, fear creeping into his voice.
"You already have," the voice replied. "Every step you've taken has been part of this path. You've been preparing for this moment, whether you knew it or not. The choice is yours, Kairos—embrace your past, your power, or turn away and live in ignorance."
Kairos felt a strange calm wash over him, the fear dissipating as he stared at the moon rising in the distance. For the first time in years, he felt as though he had purpose. The pieces were falling into place, one by one, and though he didn't understand everything, he knew he had to follow this path.
With a deep breath, he nodded to himself. "Alright. Show me what I need to do."
The voice was silent for a moment, then spoke one final time. "The Circle is already searching for you. You do not have much time. Remember—when you face them, you are not just Kairos. You are the sum of every life you've ever lived."
And with that, the night sky seemed to crack open, and Kairos felt the ancient power of his past selves stirring deep within him.
---