Chapter 4: Echoes on the Threshold.
The silence that followed was heavy, brittle.
Inside the hut, Miwa sat close, binding scraps of his own garment around Wei's injuries. His touch bore the weight of years spent in labor—calloused, rough—but each stroke moved with care, as though steady pressure might erase what the mob had done.
Wei sat motionless, head bowed, lips pressed into a thin line. His small fists dug into his knees. Questions clawed at him—what wrong had he committed, why their faces had twisted in hate, and who the man they cried out for as "Supreme Hero" even was.
Miwa caught the faraway glassiness in the boy's eyes and mistook it for blame. Guilt cut deeper than any wound. His voice rasped low, meant only for Wei.
"I'm sorry, Wei… Please. Never again. Never stray so far again."
Wei's chin lifted. The anguish carved across Miwa's face broke something inside him.
He lunged forward, clinging to Miwa's chest with thin arms as if he could shield the man himself. His voice cracked through quiet sobs.
"It's not your fault, Miwa. I shouldn't have gone so far. I shouldn't have let them… I was just confused—so afraid—I didn't know what to do. But why did they hate me? What did I do wrong? They couldn't understand me, and I couldn't understand them…"
The words tumbled, trembling, until one question clung to him like a shadow.
"…but then that person came. They called him Supreme Hero. Everyone understood him… and he looked at me like he understood me too. Miwa… what is a Supreme Hero?"
Miwa froze. His arms tightened around Wei, jaw set, eyes burning with a hatred stirred too soon. For a long while, only Wei's muffled sobs filled the small hut.
At last, Miwa exhaled, the words scraping his throat.
"A Supreme Hero…" His hand dragged once through Wei's hair, slow and heavy. "He is someone the world chooses. Crowned in glory. Worshiped as a savior. The people see him and believe he was born to lead them… born to protect them."
Wei's wet eyes blinked upward. "Then… he's good?"
Miwa's gaze darkened. His voice dropped, bitter as iron.
"Good? No, Wei. Don't mistake worship for goodness. A Supreme Hero is strong—so strong the world itself bends for him. But strength doesn't make someone just. And glory doesn't make someone kind."
He pressed Wei tighter against him, whispering as though sealing a curse into the boy's bones.
"Remember this, Wei. The world will always understand its chosen heroes. But it will never try to understand boys like you… or men like me."
For a heartbeat, something flickered across Miwa's face—regret, memory, a wound unspoken. His tone dipped faint, almost swallowed by the dark.
"…and once, I thought I understood them too."
But Wei, still trembling, clung instead to the words that cut deepest. His small voice rose, half-hope, half-desperation:
"…so if I become someone like him… then they'll finally understand me too? And I'll understand them?"
Miwa's jaw tightened. He shut his eyes as though the words had never been spoken. In the silence, the thought rooted itself in Wei's chest.
Miwa laid him down on their bedroll, tucking the blanket made from a furred beast over his small frame. Wei's lashes lowered as if sleep had claimed him. Miwa, drained, settled at his side and slipped into slumber.
But Wei's eyes fluttered open to the dim glow of the fire. Quietly, he rose and stepped outside.
The night air bit cold against his skin. On the porch, he sat staring upward, stars scattered bright as if mocking the pale moon. His lips moved soundlessly, repeating two words.
"Supreme Hero."
The stars shimmered in his eyes, their light catching like sparks of resolve. Hours passed before he slipped back inside, lying beside Miwa. At last, sleep claimed him—and with it, a dream.
Not a dream. A beginning.
Wei opened his eyes to a black void.
"Wh-where am I..?"
Each step he took spilled pale light beneath his feet, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He walked with no end, no measure of time. Centuries? Millennia? The void devoured all reckoning.
The cold pressed in from every side; only the faint warmth of his fleeting footsteps kept him moving.
At last, a shape appeared: a door, light bleeding faintly through its edges.
Hope surged. Wei broke into a frantic run. The handle burned warm in his palm—but it would not turn.
"It's locked..?"
He circled it. Nothing waited behind, only the same endless dark. So he sat against the door, head bowed, waiting for it to open. Ages seemed to wither and pass, but the door remained sealed.
Until a single tear fell from his cheek. Where it struck, a new light bloomed, soft and strange. Wei lifted his head in awe. The light drifted near, silent—until a voice filled the void. Not loud, not soft. Not spoken at all, yet inside him and around him.
"What do you want?"
Wei's lips parted. "I want this door to open…"
"Why?"
"…because… I…I.. also don't know…"
"You want to open it, yet you don't know the reason why?"
Wei lowered his gaze. The light hovered, patient.
Then it asked again:
"Will you walk until your feet tear? Will you knock until your bones break? Or will you find the key?"
Wei's throat tightened. "I don't get what you're saying."
The light softened. "Have you tried unlocking it?"
"Yes… it's locked."
The glow drifted toward the handle. Wei followed, eyes fixed.
"Have you ever considered unlocking it?"
"Yes, I already told you I twisted it! And it's locked," Wei snapped, irritation flaring.
"..."
The light was still for a time. Then:
"What about unlocking it through the unlock button?"
Wei froze. "Wh-at..?"
His fingers brushed the small latch he had overlooked. He twisted again. The door gave way.
"It actually unlocked…"
The light spoke: "Did you really not know how to unlock it? You know a world of closed doors will never open itself."
Wei stood frozen, the words sinking but unanswered. He pushed the door wide.
Beyond lay a vast height—sky stretching endless, clouds far below. The sight pulled his breath tight. His heart pounded.
The voice rose again. "So tell me—do you wish to be let in… or do you wish to be the one who enters? Tell me, Wei. Do you really want to jump and go down there?"
Wei's fist clenched. "Yes… I do."
"Very well."
He stepped forward.
Then he leapt.
The light spoke once more, but the words shattered into gibberish, incomprehensible. Wei stared back in confusion as he fell.
The door vanished, and the void gave way to the plunge.