Chapter 6

In a daze, I found myself in a gray void.

What is this?

The gray kept changing, eventually becoming finer, transforming into countless threads that swirled, moved, and enveloped everything in sight, layer upon layer, forming a tightly woven net that extended to the endless distance...

I seemed to have become extremely small, situated at the center of this gray. Small like a pebble, a speck of dust, a wisp of smoke, an atom...

What am I?

Self, ego... the thing that represents all of this... is... me.

Who am I?

A civilian police officer... 229527... anti-prostitution operation... new superior... that black window...

The gray threads gathered before my eyes, eventually coalescing into an endless darkness. Within the darkness, a bright silver light emerged, spinning and spreading outwards like ink diffusing in water...

My thoughts were still fuzzy. But my body... it hurt.

The sensation of numbness... yes, this feeling is called pain.

Every inch, every part, everything that belongs to me, seemed to be in excruciating pain!

What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong, what’s wrong, what’s wrong, what’s wrong...

Death...

Yes. Am I dead?

My thoughts became increasingly quick and clear, but they seemed to only piece together fragments. I could still hear mixed calls, the gun muzzle spewing flames, the spreading pain in my body, the sky in my vision becoming clear and then gradually blurry, a feeling as if I were riding on clouds...

...But what I could feel was not as beautiful as the rumors, nor as terrifying as some other rumors. And this familiar, nostalgic feeling, I remember, is something I experienced countless times only when I was alive.

Pain is proof of being alive. Perception... is also proof of being alive.

So am I still alive? Am I still alive?

Life.

Possessing life. A wonderful feeling, one that brings joy...

That strange perception makes me want to scream...

So more things appeared, the pain from the air vibrations forming strange wailing sounds, mixed with even louder syllables... the pain in my body forming a cold sensation, seeping into my body from every pore... the internal pain, gathering into a strange, bitter taste, constantly regurgitating: and the suffocating feeling tightening certain areas, perhaps the throat, perhaps the nostrils.

Then came the light.

All the light turned red, dry as if being scorched.

The sensations became clearer... my eyes felt sore... my nose was a bit stuffy... my body was cold... only my hearing was intact, familiar, but what I could hear was extremely chaotic... and unfamiliar.

Several blurry figures were running back and forth, back and forth...

A rough voice was shouting, but the muffled, rolling pronunciation made it impossible to understand. A soft voice was moaning, filled with strange pain, and from a farther place, several sharp voices were howling, filled with panic. The force supporting my body seemed to be distancing me from all this.

Only one soft voice was repeatedly chanting.

Still unfamiliar, with strange pronunciation, but after each pause, it seemed to add a fixed beginning.

...

After a long time, or perhaps years, I learned the meaning of the chanting.

It was simple.

It was a prayer for protection, with each sentence beginning with a name.

Edward, that was my new name, representing me.

For the next ten years, this name always represented an ordinary child born in a remote mountain village, whose father was a village blacksmith and whose mother had already passed away at birth...

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