Another day, during recess,in 5th grade, Sarn sat on a bench in the cssroom, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Beside her, a cssmate sat, idly chatting.

  The girl gestured vaguely toward another student sitting in front of them. “She looks so funny. Always sitting there, doing nothing. She’s so quiet—it’s annoying.”

  Sarn’s gaze followed the gesture, nding on the girl in question. She sat alone on the swing set, her head bowed as if trying to make herself invisible.

  The cssmate kept talking, her voice dripping with derision, but Sarn stopped listening. A strange feeling welled up in her chest as she watched the girl on the swing.

  She’s just like me.

  The realization made her stomach twist. She could have disagreed. She could have said something.

  But instead, she stayed silent. She looked away, letting the words hang in the air.

  Back in the present, the memory hits Sarn like a blow. The Celestial’s words echo in her mind, feeding the doubts she’s always carried.

  You just follow the crowd.

  You think you’re a victim, but you’re no better than anyone else.

  Her grip on her sword falters.

  The sound of footsteps drew closer, each step a reminder of the weight pressing down on her chest. Sarn’s heart raced as she instinctively tried to back away, but before she could even process what was happening, a fist collided with her face.

  The force of the punch sent her crashing to the ground. The world spun around her, blurring into streaks of light and shadow as pain erupted in her head.

  She could hear the Celestial’s voice, distant but cutting through the haze. “Too na?ve.”

  Sarn’s hand touched the ground, her fingers spyed, as if reaching for something, anything to hold onto. But nothing. The pavement felt cold, indifferent beneath her.

  She wanted to rise, to defend herself, but a sinking feeling settled deep in her gut. What was the point of getting up? Would it make any difference? The world around her felt like it was closing in, suffocating her with its harsh, uncaring reality.

  She stayed on the ground, staring at the sky, her breath shallow.

  Can I escape from this?

  Her mind whispered the same thought that had always haunted her: You can’t escape being who you are.

  Her life had been built on the idea that if she just kept her head down, if she didn’t upset anyone, she could stay safe. But now, as she y there, defeated not only by the punch but by the truth of the Celestial’s words, she wondered if that safety was just an illusion.

  The Celestial’s voice echoed once more in her mind: “The world isn’t for na?ves.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. Was that the truth? Was she truly as naive as he said? Had she always been too afraid to face the harsh realities of the world?

  The more she thought about it, the more she felt a deep sense of shame. She could have acted, could have defended herself in the past, could have stood up for others. But she hadn’t.

  A rush of anger mixed with the shame, burning her from the inside out. Maybe the world wasn’t for na?ves, but could it still have a pce for someone like her? Someone who was finally starting to see what had always been in front of her?

  The pain from the punch felt distant now. The deeper hurt was the realization that the world she thought she knew wasn’t as kind or forgiving as she had believed. The realization that she wasn’t as pure or innocent as she had once imagined.

  Sarn’s hand tightened into a fist, the dirt beneath her fingers grinding into her skin. It wasn’t over. Not yet.

  Sarn's vision swayed in and out of focus, the world around her a blurred mess of color and shapes. Her body ached, but more than the physical pain, it was the turmoil in her mind that threatened to drown her. She could barely make sense of the taunts, the words echoing in her head, mingling with the sharp sting of the blow. Too na?ve. Too weak.

  She tried to stand, her arms shaking as she pushed herself off the ground. Her hands scraped against the rough surface, but they offered no stability. She could feel the weight of her thoughts bearing down on her, a crushing pressure that made every movement feel foreign, every breath shallow.

  The Celestial’s presence seemed to fade from her senses, as if he had dissolved into the air. She couldn’t hear his voice anymore, couldn’t see the golden-haired figure looming over her. Everything felt... distant.

  But that sense of distance didn’t st.

  Another step. Another strike.

  A sharp pain exploded across her ribs as something solid, something unrelenting, collided with her side. She gasped, feeling the breath leave her body in an instant. The force of the blow made her stagger, and she colpsed back to the ground, her vision flickering like a dying candle.

  Her ribs screamed in agony, but it wasn’t the physical pain that held her there. It was the disconnect between her mind and body—she couldn’t comprehend what was happening. She couldn’t understand why she was still on the ground.

  What am I supposed to do?

  The questions spun through her like a chaotic storm. She couldn’t escape. She couldn’t fight. She couldn’t think. The world seemed so rge and cruel, and she was just... too small. Too weak.

  Her breath was ragged now, and each inhale felt like it was a struggle.

  She couldn’t even feel the Celestial’s presence anymore, yet the words he had spoken still rang inside her head, twisting like thorns in her chest. Was he right? Was she really just a product of her own fear? Did she even deserve to be here?

  Sarn's body trembled as she attempted to rise again, but every motion felt like dragging a heavy weight that threatened to pull her back down. Her legs didn’t respond the way she wanted, her arms felt too weak to push herself up.

  And still, the world felt so... out of reach.Sarn staggered, blood dripping from her lips, her vision blurring. The Celestial’s taunts echoed in her mind: You’re weak. You’ve always been weak.

  She tightened her grip on her sword, memories of her silence fshing through her mind. She had failed before—failed herself, failed others—but she couldn’t let that define her.

  Through gritted teeth, she muttered, “You’re right. I’ve been weak. I’ve been silent. But not anymore.”

  She pushed herself to her feet, steadying her trembling body, her eyes fierce. “I can’t change the past, but I can change what I do now."

  With a surge of resolve, she raised her sword and charged, ready to face the storm.Sarn's grip tightened on her sword, her eyes burning with determination. “With acknowledging my mistakes, I want to look forward. I just cared about the results. But now, I want to change.."

  Her sword bzed with brilliant light as she stood tall, despite the pain radiating through her body. The Celestial's gaze darkened, his lips curling into a cruel smile.

  “You have the audacity to fight me, even in this state?” He stepped forward, his hands glowing with power. “Fine. I’ll show you just how worthless you are.”

  Sarn didn't hesitate. She swung her sword with a fierce cry, unleashing a wave of intense fire that surged toward the Celestial. But to her shock, the Celestial blocked it with his bare hands, his palms glowing as the fmes fizzled out. His hands healed instantly, as if the damage never even happened.

  The Celestial ughed, a cold, mocking sound. “So, you think you can defeat me? Let’s see how long your resolve sts.”

  Sarn gritted her teeth and swung again, this time with more ferocity, her bde cutting through the air like a comet. The Celestial’s excitement grew. “Ah, now this is interesting! So you do have some fight in you, after all. But it’s still not enough.”

  But Sarn didn’t falter. She wasn’t just fighting him anymore—she was fighting for herself. For everything she had ignored, for every silence she had lived through. Every strike she made now carried the weight of her past, but more importantly, it carried the fire of her will to be more than her mistakes.