I was certain… that I had died.
That was the very first conclusion that surfaced in my mind when my consciousness returned. There was no light. No color. No shape. Only absolute darkness swallowing everything, like an endless black cloth covering my eyes—and perhaps my soul as well.
Yet, I could still **feel**.
Something warm enveloped me. Something soft, gently pulsing, moving in rhythm with a heartbeat that wasn't mine but felt strangely calming. I couldn't see anything, but I could hear—muffled sounds, distant and unclear, as if they came from beneath the water.
It wasn't a language I recognized.
And yet, somehow… I **understood** it.
"Are you sure everything will be alright?" a woman's voice asked anxiously.
"It will be. The doctor said this child is strong," a man replied, forcing calm into his voice.
I froze.
A child?
The word echoed in my mind, repeating again and again. Slowly, a terrifying realization crept in. I wasn't in heaven. I wasn't in hell. I wasn't drifting as a bodiless soul.
I was… **inside a womb**.
That realization struck harder than death itself. I could feel the walls around me. Warm. Alive. That heartbeat—it wasn't mine. I was attached to it, relying on it.
I had been reincarnated.
Or perhaps… I had never truly died.
Days passed without any clear sense of time. I couldn't open my eyes—or maybe I didn't even have eyes to open yet. But my hearing grew sharper. I recognized those voices. My mother's voice. My father's voice. I heard laughter, worry, prayers, and quiet hopes.
They didn't know.
That inside the womb, the consciousness of a grown man had already awakened.
I couldn't do anything. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. All I could do was **listen** and **feel**. And in that endless darkness, I began to wonder… was this darkness only temporary?
Then that day came.
An overwhelming pressure crushed my body. Sounds became chaotic. Screams, ragged breathing, and then—light that never arrived.
I was born into a world that remained dark.
Crying erupted all around me. I could feel it—the cold air touching my skin for the first time. Hands lifted my small body. I opened my eyes… or at least tried to.
There was nothing.
No light.
No color.
No world.
"He… he's not crying?" someone said hesitantly.
"No… he's breathing." my mother sobbed.
I wanted to say that I was fine. That I was conscious. That I was alive. But from that small mouth, no words came—only the weak cry of a newborn.
Days turned into months.
Months turned into years.
And the world… stayed dark.
At first, I thought it was normal. Maybe babies simply couldn't see right away. I waited. I endured. I listened as the world shaped itself around me through sound: my father's footsteps, the crackling of firewood, the wind sweeping through the fields.
But one year passed.
Two years.
Three years.
And the darkness never faded.
I realized it when other children began to run. When they pointed at things and laughed. When people talked about the color of the sky and the shape of clouds—things that were nothing but empty concepts to me.
I was blind.
Not temporarily blind. Not short-sighted. Completely blind.
This world became one of sound, touch, and scent for me. I learned to walk by counting my steps. I recognized people by their breathing. I sensed direction through the echo of my own footsteps.
I lived. But I lived without ever **seeing**.
I didn't hate my parents. I didn't hate the world. I simply accepted it… until today arrived.
The day our small village was filled with screams.
I was sitting on the ground in the yard, tracing a piece of wood with my fingers, when the sound came. The first scream. Panic. Footsteps running in every direction.
Then… a roar.
The sound shook the air. Low. Heavy. Savage. Something deep in my chest trembled, a primal instinct screaming danger.
"A tiger! A demon tiger!"
The villagers' cries overlapped one another. I could hear people running, falling, getting back up, and running again. The ground trembled beneath the steps of something massive.
I didn't move.
I didn't know where to go.
Then a voice thundered from above, filled with confidence and power.
"Don't worry. I have arrived."
A strange pressure swept through the air, making the hair on my neck stand on end. That wasn't the voice of an ordinary person.
"Immortal lord! Please save us!" the villagers shouted, hope and despair mixing together.
I could only sit there and listen.
Explosions of power erupted in the distance. I could hear the air being torn apart, the ground shattering, and the tiger's roar filled with rage. The sound… was different now. Closer. More real.
And suddenly—
Something changed.
I opened my eyes.
For the first time in my life… **I could see**.
The world didn't appear all at once. Not instantly. It was as if someone slowly pulled back a curtain, revealing a world that had begun to **slow down**.
I saw it.
A massive tiger with black and golden stripes, its body wrapped in a ferocious aura, claws raised as energy gathered around it. Opposite it stood a robed man—a cultivator—hovering slightly above the ground, his face tense, his hands preparing to control something.
Above them…
An eye.
Gigantic. Floating in the sky.
Red-black and burning orange, as if forged from fire and blood. Its gaze pierced through everything. The sky around it darkened, as though even the heavens feared remaining bright under its watch.
"What is that…" my voice trembled. Pure fear crawled through every inch of my body.
That eye… was **watching**.
Not just the world.
But **me**.
Then, without warning, the eye vanished.
Everything returned to normal.
The cultivator let out a low growl and swung his hand. Twelve flying swords appeared in the air, gleaming sharply as they shot toward the tiger. The tiger roared, opened its mouth, and unleashed its unique attack—a brutal wave of energy that ripped through the air.
The attacks collided.
An explosion shook the village.
I saw the cultivator being forced backward, blood spraying from his mouth. The tiger's attack pierced through his defenses and slammed into his body. He fell, crashing heavily into the ground.
The tiger laughed—or at least, the sound from its throat resembled a deep, mocking jeer. The vibration traveled through the earth, climbed up my legs, and rattled my bones.
It stepped forward.
One step.
Two steps.
Each footfall produced a heavy thud, as if the land itself bowed beneath its presence. Its ferocious aura thickened the air, making it harder to breathe.
It glanced at me.
Only briefly.
Those savage eyes swept over me like a cold wind—empty of emotion, empty of intent. I wasn't a threat. I wasn't even prey worth noticing.
It turned away.
And that was when the massacre began.
I saw them running.
Not hearing—seeing.
Human bodies moved in chaos, tripping over one another, faces stripped bare by terror. Hope collapsed in an instant as the tiger vanished from my sight, only to reappear in the midst of the crowd at an impossible speed.
Screams erupted.
Then fell silent.
Blood sprayed, thick and red, splattering the ground and staining the dust and grass. Bodies collapsed one by one, no longer moving. The sharp metallic scent pierced my nose, making my stomach churn.
Death.
It was everywhere.
I remained seated on the ground.
My legs felt numb. I didn't know whether I was too afraid to move… or if I had already accepted my end.
I knew.
When this was over—
I would be the last one.
Then… something inside my head trembled.
Not pain.
Not fear.
But **memory**.
The tiger's attack—the brutal energy wave it had released earlier—suddenly felt familiar. Too familiar. As if I had seen it before… studied it… repeated it countless times.
Even though I was certain… this was the first time I had ever seen the world.
Yet the pattern was clear in my mind.
How the energy gathered.
How it was compressed, twisted, refined.
How a single push was enough to turn it into destruction.
Without realizing it, my breathing slowed.
My hand stretched forward.
I didn't make a decision.
My body moved first.
And the world… responded.
The air trembled. Invisible energy gathered in my palm, swirling wildly, compressing into a pattern that was **identical**. The pressure made my skin feel as though it were burning from the inside, my bones creaking as they bore a burden that should have been impossible.
The same.
Exactly the same.
The tiger froze.
Its massive body spun toward me, the ground splitting beneath its claws. Its golden eyes widened, pupils shrinking—not in rage, but in **disbelief**.
For the first time…
I was within its sight.
But it was already too late.
The energy exploded from my palm.
There was no roar of resistance.
No time to dodge.
The wave of power slammed into the tiger's body, tearing through flesh, crushing bone, and shredding its ferocious aura as if it were nothing more than thin mist.
In an instant—
The massive body collapsed.
Lifeless.
Silence swallowed the village.
I staggered to my feet, gasping for breath. The hand that had been extended moments ago now trembled violently, thin blood trickling from the corner of my mouth. The world around me spun, light and shadow crashing together.
My legs gave out.
Darkness crept back in from the edges of my consciousness.
I fell to the ground.
And before everything turned black, one final thought surfaced in my mind—
**What… exactly am I?**