The sky had begun to bruise with the colors of evening—lavender streaks chasing the fading warmth of the sun. Cipher's car hummed steadily along the familiar road home, the rhythmic sweep of the wipers clearing away the mist that clung stubbornly to the windshield.
It had been a long day, but a good one. His bag, lying on the passenger seat, was stuffed with graded papers and a few more yet to be marked. He would finish them tonight, maybe with a cup of tea balanced precariously on his desk. A small ritual he had grown fond of.
Cipher tapped his fingers on the wheel in time with the soft music playing from the radio. His mind drifted—not to the weariness in his shoulders, not to the bills he had to keep track of, but to Daniel's face earlier that day. The tentative smile, the little spark of belief beginning to form. That image alone made every ounce of exhaustion worth it.
He smiled faintly. Life wasn't perfect, but for the first time, it was enough.
Headlights flared in the distance, drawing his attention. A tangle of red brake lights glowed up ahead, scattered haphazardly across the two-lane road. His brows furrowed. Traffic this far out? At this hour?
As he slowed, the scene came into focus. A car had spun halfway into the ditch, crumpled metal and shattered glass glittering beneath the fading light. A line of vehicles had stopped, drivers craning their necks, some already dialing phones.
Cipher's heart jolted when his eyes locked onto the mangled sedan nearest the ditch. Behind the spiderwebbed windshield, he caught sight of a small figure in the backseat. A child.
And not just any child.
His chest tightened. "No way…"
It was Sophie. One of his students.
The seatbelt trapped her, and though she was moving—crying, panicked—she was alive.
Without thinking, Cipher slammed the gearshift into park and flung open the door. His legs carried him forward before reason could argue otherwise.
The air reeked of oil and scorched rubber. Shouts filled the night—bystanders urging caution, someone yelling that emergency services were on the way. But the voices blurred as Cipher reached the wreck.
"Sophie!" His voice cracked through the chaos.
Her wide eyes darted up, recognition breaking through her tears. "M-Mr. Starlight!"
Relief and urgency collided inside him. He yanked at the back door, but it was jammed. Gritting his teeth, he threw his shoulder into it once, twice, until with a shriek of metal, it groaned open enough to pull her through.
She clung to him instantly, tiny hands trembling around his neck. "It hurts… it hurts…"
"You're okay, Sophie," Cipher soothed, holding her tight. "You're safe now. I've got you."
She buried her face against his shoulder, sobbing. Cipher carried her a few paces away from the wreck, pressing her gently into the arms of a bystander who rushed forward. "Keep her warm. Don't let her move too much."
Already, his eyes turned back to the car.
The driver—the parent. He had to get them too.
Cipher scrambled to the front of the vehicle. The parent, unconscious, was pinned by the collapsed frame. Their chest rose faintly—they were alive, but barely.
He braced himself against the twisted doorframe, tugging with all his strength. His muscles screamed, sweat breaking across his forehead. The metal groaned, stubborn, refusing to yield.
"Come on…" Cipher muttered through clenched teeth. "Come on, damn it!"
Behind him, voices rose—pleading with him to wait for paramedics, to stay back. But Cipher didn't listen. He couldn't. Not when someone's life was fading inches away.
The frame shifted, just barely, enough to wedge his shoulder in. He reached for the seatbelt buckle, fingers fumbling, slick with blood that wasn't his.
Almost…
The world exploded.
A deafening roar of impact. The screech of tires. A blinding wash of headlights.
Another car—one that hadn't stopped, one whose driver hadn't been watching, phone in hand—plowed into the line of stalled vehicles. The chain reaction hit like thunder.
Cipher's instincts screamed. He twisted, throwing himself between the wreck and the new wave of destruction. The last thing he saw was Sophie—safe, alive—her small face streaked with tears as bystanders shielded her from the crash.
Then came the white-hot agony, a sharpness that tore through his body and ripped the breath from his lungs.
And then—silence.
The world faded.
Cipher felt himself falling, though there was no wind, no ground. Just endless black, soft and cold, swallowing everything. His body no longer hurt. In fact, he wasn't sure he even had a body anymore.
His thoughts wavered, scattered, then steadied. The last image clung stubbornly to him: Sophie's terrified face, and the relief in knowing she was safe.
He had done it. He had saved her.
That was enough.
That was—
A voice cut through the void.
Calm, resonant, neither man nor woman, but carrying the weight of eternity.
"You chose to give your life so another might live."
The darkness rippled with the sound, as though the void itself bowed to the speaker.
"In doing so, you have fulfilled the truest essence of teaching—not with words, but with action. You guided one to safety at the cost of your own light."
Cipher tried to speak, but no sound came. Yet the voice seemed to hear him all the same, as if it flowed not into his ears but directly into the marrow of his being.
"Your journey is not ended. The path ahead is vast, and many more wander lost in darkness. They will need a guide. They will need… a Teacher."
Light blossomed in the distance—a faint spark, then a beam, then a vast horizon of brilliance unfurling before him.
"Rise, Cipher Starlight. Step forward, and claim the life beyond."
And as the light swallowed him, carrying him away from the shattered road and the life he once knew, Cipher felt no fear. Only the quiet, unwavering certainty that whatever awaited him, he would meet it the same way he had lived: by giving everything he had, for the sake of others.