Chapter Two

As the world around him erupted in a cacophony of curses and hatred, he remained passive, untouched by the blows that landed upon him.

"Die you freak..."

"You fucking cursed bastard, because of you my sister..."

"What were you even born for..."

"You should have listened to our warnings the first time curse, now you can only blame yourself for this..."

The pain was not his, but belonged to those around him, their fists serving as vessels for the fury they held.

He lay on the cold ground, his body a canvas for their wrath, while his own emptiness and condition shielded him from their torment.

In the midst of the violence, as the child's vision blurred and senses dulled, a single thought lingered in his mind.

What awaited him on the other side? What would he experience beyond the realm of existence, free from the shackles of this world?

Would he finally feel something, or would his essence continue to remain untouched by the currents of emotion?

And then, like a curtain falling on a darkened stage, everything faded to black.

...

In the boundless array of celestial domains, where gods held sway over their realms, Moon—Goddess of Emotions, Arts, Creativity, and the Lunar Glow—stood at the threshold of her usual abode.

But her usual charming smile could not be seen at this current moment in time, instead, it was replaced by a wave of confusion and exasperation.

'We have a special soul that needs reincarnating, but I'm too busy managing over reincarnation duty, so I need a little help...'

The Goddess of Despair's orders, though unexpected, left her no choice but to comply.

Reluctantly, Moon cast her influence, conjuring a realm of absolute void, illuminated only by the radiance of her ethereal presence/being and the distant gleam of the moon.

And so, within this emptiness, she awaited the arrival of a soul—a boy, barely 14, whose eyes and hair were as dark as the abyss that enveloped him.

Materializing as though woven from the very darkness, he stood before her, a figure touched by the inexplicable hands of fate.

...

The boy's perspective shifted, and he found himself submerged in an unfamiliar void, questioning his own existence.

Was this the afterlife, a realm beyond life's grasp? Or was he just dreaming like usual...it appear to be one of his usual dreams, but he couldn't really be sure...

Weariness tugged at his consciousness, a sensation that should have been strange, yet his emotional palette remained blank.

Moon's voice pierced the silence, introducing herself and explaining the purpose of his presence—a reincarnation bestowed upon him.

"Hello child, you must be confused about what is happening and why you are here...for you see child you have unfortunately passed away in your home dimension of earth Segma- 5555555433#45.

But you are a lucky soul because you were picked from a large pool of..."

Her words held a sense of awe, but the boy defied conventions, approaching her with a nonchalance that seemed to defy the very cosmic order.

He reclined against the void, his head finding rest upon her lap, an act that brushed against the absurd within the vast expanse of the void.

"..."

A hint of confusion and amusement flirted with Moon's usually composed demeanour.

Here, in this void of oblivion and emptiness, layed a boy who dared to seek solace upon the lap of the embodiment of feelings.

Her lips quirked as she regarded him, a deity's bewilderment tempered by the fleeting touch of humour.

This moment stood as a testament to the oddities that even divinity could not predict.

"You know, not many souls take such liberties with their deities," Moon mused, her voice as delicate as starlight. "But you, my dear boy, seem to find comfort even in the most peculiar of places."

The boy's response, naturally, was an expressionless silence, a void of words mirroring the void that surrounded them.

Moon sighed softly, her fingers idly tracing patterns through his dark hair. In this quiet, enigmatic realm, where emotions and the lack thereof collided, she found herself caught between the inexplicable and the absurd.

And so, within this canvas of emptiness and light, the Goddess of Emotions was unfortunately unable to proceed with her business and instead await for the young mortals' Awakening.

.....

After a spell of waiting, during which the boy showed no inclination to rouse from his peaceful slumber, Moon's curiosity got the better of her.

"Despair said this boy's case was a special one, why is that I wonder. And if she was truly as busy as she says why only hand me one soul to reincarnate..."

Something just didn't add up and she wanted to find out why.

Her divine nature allowed her to peer into the boy's life, and as she delved deeper, a realization began to dawn.

The Goddess of Despair's directive to entrust this soul's reincarnation to her started to make sense, albeit in the most paradoxical way.

A boy devoid of emotions, set to be reincarnated by a goddess who embodied emotions.

The irony was not lost on Moon, and the more she sifted through the boy's life, the clearer the puzzle pieces fell into place.

Her perceptions moved beyond the boy's external facade to delve into the fabric of his being—the soul that defined him.

Her eyes glowed a mystic creamy white and chime-like notes played from the surroundings like a soft symphony.

And finally, there it was, a soul devoid of colour, as though someone had drained the spectrum from its essence.

It was not just its lack of hue that struck her; the soul was riddled with fractures, a web of cracks that should not have existed in a world devoid of malevolent forces capable of harming a soul.

Yet, the boy's life story was a paradox. Born into a world lacking the supernatural elements that could inflict such damage, he had entered existence with a soul already shattered.

The dissonance between his existence and the state of his soul confounded Moon as she gazed at him, a boy who slept soundly upon her ethereal lap.

A decision, profound in its implications, crystallized within her. In a language beyond human comprehension, Moon whispered a command, and a circular platform, adorned with golden symbols, manifested beneath them.

A celestial energy converged upon the boy, and a crescent moon symbol radiated upon his forehead and nestled within the depths of his soul.

It was an act that transcended the ordinary boundaries of existence, a mark imbued with her essence, a token that denoted the boy's connection to her domain—the very emotions he lacked.