“Kata, wake up!” someone cried out as loud as they could.
The effort they were putting into this cry was heartbreaking, indicating just how dire the situation was.
“Please, wake up.
My son, please wake up,” the woman cried.
The young boy on the floor finally opened his eyes, as though the heavens had pitied the crying woman.
Her sorrow had reached the heavens, allowing her son to return to the land of the living.
This is what most people would think, but they would be far from the truth.
In this case, the heavens had nothing to do with it.
In fact, the heavens would have loved to strike down the woman and the young boy, both of whom were nothing but trouble for the world.
Seeing her son come back to life after falling from such a height, the woman was at first shaken.
She had been crying out for him to wake, but deep in her heart, she had already begun accepting that her son was dead and gone.
This was the fate of all Wena.
To die so early was not uncommon at all; in fact, her son had lived for far too long when one considered their living situation.
Their present was a truly dark horror, and their future was darker than night.
This was why, even though she loved her son and would never want him dead, she had been relieved—even if just a little—that he had escaped this nightmare they were living through.
She was ready to join him shortly, only for the young boy to wake up.
The woman cast away any desire to see her son dead and out of this world.
Since he was alive, this was best.
‘A nightmare is still life.
Death offers no escape for the Wena,’ she thought as she hugged her son, crying as though the heavens had just given her a gift beyond compare.
She was truly happy and, once more, her heart was filled with the slightest light—a hope that her son would live a better life than she had, or his ancestors.
This was wishful thinking since they were Wena, but for her kind, this delusion was the only thing that allowed them to go through a life that was otherwise not worth living.
‘Where am I?’ the young boy thought the moment he opened his eyes.
He looked around only to see tall trees and darkness.
It was clearly nighttime, and he was in some kind of forest.
When he saw the moon above, his eyes were instantly filled with shock.
The moon was green—and that was not all.
There were nine moons in the sky.
All these moons were full, releasing a powerful light that flooded the world.
This lasted for only a second before the light disappeared completely.
The young boy kept his eyes on the moons for over ten minutes before his experience kicked in.
‘I am in a strange place with some woman calling me her son.
I must deal with this situation as fast as possible.’ He finally looked away from the green moons and toward the woman, who was now picking up what seemed to be firewood.
The boy was once again stunned into silence, but this time, he had prepared his heart for whatever he might see.
After seeing the nine green moons, he immediately accepted that he was no longer on Soul, his homeworld.
He had visited many worlds and knew many alien beings.
He had lived, loved, hated, and killed countless of them.
Even though he did not know how he got to a world with nine green moons, he was not too shaken by the fact that he was no longer on his home world.
The nine moons had grabbed his attention, but that had more to do with the mysterious light they let out.
When he saw the woman who had been calling him her son, he could not take his eyes off her.
Her skin was green, and her long white hair moved about freely.
She had red eyes and features that seemed to have been carved by the most talented sculptor to have ever lived.
She was nine feet tall, and yet her figure was not thin; she had curves in all the right places, even though she seemed malnourished.
In short, she was the most beautiful thing, living or non-living, he had ever seen.
The young boy had seen countless creatures, and yet they all paled in comparison.
He slowly looked away, since this was not the time to admire beauty.
He looked at his hands and found the same green skin as the woman before him.
He looked at his feet, and it was the same.
His skin was green—an even deeper shade of green.
He could not see his face, but he had a feeling that he was just as beautiful as the woman was.
‘The language is foreign to me, and yet I understand each word spoken by the woman.
It is as though I have grown up with this language, with every consonant and syllable engraved in my soul.’
From the little information he was able to gather, she was his mother and his name was Kata.
He was a member of a race called Wena, and they lived in such poverty that it should be illegal.
They lived in a small village that was no more than a prison for them to live out their lives until death saw fit to grant them mercy.
The woman did not explain more than this about their situation, and Kata did not dare ask.
‘Have I been reincarnated into this strange world?
Am I the original Kata, or is he dead and I am some sort of spectre that has managed to take over the young man’s body?
Either way, I am not happy with this situation.
For me to have been reincarnated means that I died.
Who managed to kill me even after I achieved so much and gathered so much power?
I even became the closest thing to immortality, with only a thought away from having life eternal.
My empire was vast and my subjects incalculable.
For me to have died and ended up in this situation where I can’t even call myself human is truly the worst-case scenario.’
Kata continued thinking about his situation as he gathered more information from his mother’s words.
They crossed a small river before they reached the village she had been talking about.
The place was indeed infested with poverty and despair.
Kata had never been inside this village as far as he knew, but this did not stop his body from reacting instinctively to the fear of the difficulties of life there.
The village did not have a wall, so there was no need for a gate.
The village had no name, and not a single house could be seen.
The only things Kata saw were worn-down black tents, filled with holes and covered in all kinds of dirt and fluids.
The tents were all squeezed together in such a manner that moving from one point to another seemed impossible, and yet Kata could see people moving around in the sea of tents.
The smell was so thick that it hit him even though he was still one hundred feet away.
All the people in the village were Wena, just like him and his mother.
They all wore pieces of rags and did not wear shoes.
“We have finally reached home,” his mother said.