10:17 AM.
The Biology exam was over.
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Voltase set his pen down slowly. His movements were mechanical, like a robot running out of battery.
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The answer sheet before him was filled with neat handwriting.
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Too neat.
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Every letter was formed with unnatural precision, as if his hand moved independently of his wandering mind.
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Outside the classroom window, the Oxford sky was still gray.
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Thick clouds hung low, holding back rain that refused to fall.
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The faint sound of St. Mary's church bells echoed in the distance.
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Ten times.
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Heavy. Resonant. The sound drifted between the old red-brick buildings that had witnessed hundreds of years of history, yet remained silent to the suffering of individuals like him.
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Voltase let out a long sigh.
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His chest felt tight. Not from pain. More from emptiness.
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Like there was a hollow space inside his ribcage. A space that should have been filled by something feeling, meaning, or simply the will to live like other children his age.
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He glanced at the wall clock.
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Still morning.
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And this morning, like the mornings before, his body and mind were on different paths.
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His body sat on the hard wooden chair, in a classroom smelling of chalk and old paper.
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His mind? His mind was still on the blood-soaked battlefield.
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Still feeling the cold hands strangling his neck.
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Still seeing the face of the pale blond man. a face frozen in surprise as the bullet pierced his skull.
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Why do I keep going back there?
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The question spun in his head like a broken record.
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Repeating. Without an answer.
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He rose from his chair slowly. Almost reluctantly.
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The other children had already scattered out, their cheerful voices flooding the hallway with laughter and chatter that felt foreign to him.
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A boy with fiery red hair ran past him, nearly bumping Voltase's thin shoulder.
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Girls in neat uniforms huddled near the window, discussing concerts and celebrities with names he'd never heard.
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They lived in a different world.
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Voltase reached for his canvas backpack. It was black, worn, with stitching beginning to unravel at the bottom.
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He slung it over his narrow right shoulder, feeling its light weight, only a few books and a pencil case.
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I don't carry much.
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I don't need much.
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Outside the classroom, the hallway stretched long and white.
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Tiled floors reflected the flickering neon light. old lamps long overdue for replacement, but never replaced.
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The walls were adorned with portraits of past headmasters, their black eyes seeming to follow his every step.
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Voltase walked without purpose.
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Or rather, he walked with one vague purpose.
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To find answers.
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He pulled his phone from his pocket.
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The screen lit up with a pale blue glow, displaying a row of app icons he'd never touched. His small fingers.
still retaining their childish roundness, not yet hardened and calloused like the ones in his dreams, began typing into the search bar.
Dreams.
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Recurring.
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Death.
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He pressed search. A list of results appeared. Scientific articles, discussion forums, psychology blogs. all offered different explanations.
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But none felt right.
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"Recurring dreams are often caused by unresolved trauma..."
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"Dreams about death can symbolize major life changes..."
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"Some experts believe dreams are the brain's way of processing information..."
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Voltase frowned.
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His black eyes like two bottomless pits scanned every word with an intensity unusual for a child his age.
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But I don't have trauma.
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I haven't experienced any major changes.
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Then why do I keep dreaming about war?
About dying?
His fingers moved again. This time, he typed.
meaning of dreams about war.
More results appeared. Some spoke of internal conflict. Others about fear of failure. Some linked it to feelings of helplessness.
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He read them all.
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None matched what he was feeling.
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He wasn't in conflict with himself.
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Not afraid of failing exams.
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He didn't feel helpless at least, not in real life.
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All he felt was utter confusion.
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Like a detective finding puzzle pieces that didn't connect. With no idea where to begin.
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He walked through the second hallway, toward the east wing.
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Here, it was quieter.
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Only a few students passed by. A girl with thick glasses sat on a bench near the window, reading a thick book. Two boys stood near the vending machine, arguing about football.
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Voltase kept walking, his eyes fixed on the screen.
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"Recurring dreams about death can be a sign of severe stress..."
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"In Jungian psychology, death dreams often relate to self-transformation..."
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"Some studies suggest highly realistic dreams can be caused by sleep disorders..."
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No. No. No.
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All those explanations felt shallow. None touched the core of what he was experiencing.
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He felt the bullet enter his chest.
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His blood flow out.
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The hands choking his own neck.
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It wasn't just a dream. It was too real.
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Like a memory.
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The thought came suddenly. Voltase stopped walking.
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Like a memory.
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Like something that actually happened to me.
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But when?
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He had no answer.
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Only deepening darkness inside his mind.
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Like a bottomless chasm.
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And then, he collided with something.
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Or rather, someone.
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The impact happened so fast that Voltase had no time to react.
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His light body for a child his age, bounced backward like a rag doll. His backpack flew off his shoulder, sailed through the air, and landed with a thud on the tiled floor.
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Voltase himself fell.
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His butt hit the hard, cold floor first.
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A jolt of pain shot from his tailbone up through his lower back.
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"Ouch..."
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He winced, his hand instinctively reaching for the sore spot.
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For a moment, the world spun. The neon lights on the ceiling seemed to flicker faster. The sounds around him echoed from afar.
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And then, he realized something else.
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His phone.
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It had slipped from his grip when he fell. Now, it lay face down on the floor.
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Voltase reached for it with trembling hands. He turned it over slowly.
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And—
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A crack.
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A thin crack spread from the upper right corner of the screen, like a spiderweb creeping across the glass.
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Not too severe still usable but enough to make his chest tighten.
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"I just replaced the screen protector last month..."
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But the complaint soon faded when he heard a voice from above.
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"What are you doing, kids?"
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The voice was deep. Resonant. With a... strange tone.
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Like someone trying to be gentle, but with tension coiled behind the words. A tension he couldn't fully hide.
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Voltase looked up.
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For the first time that morning, his onyx eyes met the face before him.
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The man was tall.
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Not extremely tall, perhaps around 180 centimeters but with an upright posture and broad shoulders, he seemed to dominate the space around him.
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His hair was light brown, almost golden, neatly combed to the side. A bit of gel gave it a professional look.
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His brows were thick and sharp, lending a serious expression to his otherwise handsome face.
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A firm chin. A strong jaw.
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And his eyes.
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Hazel green.
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They looked down at Voltase with a mixture of surprise and... something else.
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Perhaps concern. Perhaps curiosity.
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Perhaps—
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A bulge.
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Voltase's attention suddenly shifted.
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Beneath the man's white shirtsleeve, right near his right wrist, there was a strange protrusion disrupting the straight line of his arm.
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Its shape was oval.
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With a pointed front end.
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And a blunt, rounded back.
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Like—
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A bullet.
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The thought shot through Voltase's brain like a lightning strike.
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The fog that had clouded his mind all morning vanished instantly. His drowsy eyes snapped wide open. Focused. Sharp.
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He stared at the bulge. Couldn't stop staring.
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It looked exactly like what he'd seen in his dream.
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The same shape. The same size. Even the position on the right arm, near the wrist felt familiar.
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But that was impossible.
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There was no way a bullet was lodged in a teacher's arm.
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It didn't make sense.
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It—
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"What are you looking at, kid?"
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The man's voice broke his trance.
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Voltase flinched. He realized his hand unconsciously been reaching toward the man's arm. His index finger was almost touching the strange bulge beneath the fabric.
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Quickly, he pulled it back.
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His face flushed with embarrassment. Or awkwardness. He wasn't sure.
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All he knew was that he'd nearly touched a stranger's body part without permission.
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"Sorry, sir," he said quickly, his voice slightly hoarse.
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"I—I wasn't watching where I was going. I was—"
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He pointed to his cracked phone, then shook his head.
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"I was just... not paying attention."
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The man stared at him with an unreadable expression.
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Silence.
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For a few seconds that felt like an eternity, neither spoke. Only the sound of other students' footsteps in the distance, and the hum of flickering neon lights.
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Then, the man extended his hand.
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"Get up first."
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His hand was large.
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Larger than anyone's Voltase had ever seen up close. His palm was wide with long, strong-looking fingers. On the back of his hand, prominent veins stood out. physical signs of someone used to hard work.
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Voltase accepted the outstretched hand.
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The grip was firm, but not painful. With a gentle pull, the man lifted his light body from the floor.
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"Thank you, sir," said Voltase, rubbing his still sore backside.
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The man nodded. A faint smile appeared on his lips.
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A smile that felt... forced.
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Unnatural. Like someone who hadn't smiled in a long time and had to remember how.
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"Are you all right?"
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"Yes, sir. Just a little startled."
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"Good."
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The man looked down, noticing the cracked phone.
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"Your screen is cracked."
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Voltase nodded, slightly embarrassed.
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"Yes, sir. I just... fell earlier."
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"You should be more careful," said the man, his tone softening.
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Yet there was still something behind his words.
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Something that reminded Voltase of adults talking to small children, hiding things they didn't want them to know.
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"Walking while staring at your phone is dangerous. You could bump into someone, or worse, get hit by a vehicle."
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"I know, sir. I'm sorry."
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Voltase lowered his head.
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His eyes involuntarily glanced at the man's arm again.
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The bulge was still there. Still disturbing. Still like a bullet lodged beneath the skin.
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Questions crowded his head.
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Is that a bullet?
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How could a bullet be in someone's arm?
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Was he ever shot? When? Where? Why?
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But Voltase held back.
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He was still a child, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that asking such questions to a newly met adult was inappropriate. Rude. Even dangerous.
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"Kids?"
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The man's voice broke his thoughts.
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Voltase looked up, trying to put on his usual blank expression.
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"Yes, sir?"
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"You look confused. Is something wrong?"
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"No, sir. I was just..."
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He stopped. The words felt heavy on his tongue. He wanted to ask. So badly.
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But what came out was only:
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"...does it hurt?"
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The man frowned.
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"What?"
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Voltase pointed to the man's arm. To the bulge still hidden beneath the shirt.
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"The wound on your arm, sir. Does it hurt?"
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For a moment, the man's face changed.
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His neutral expression almost friendly turned rigid.
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His jaw tightened. His hazel green eyes suddenly seemed sharper. More alert.
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"How do you know there's a wound?"
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"I saw the bulge in your arm, sir," said Voltase honestly. "Its shape looks like—"
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He stopped before the word bullet escaped.
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Instinct told him that wasn't the right word to say.
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"—like something strange. I was curious."
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The man fell silent.
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For a while, he just stared at Voltase with an unreadable gaze. A gaze that made Voltase feel like he was being interrogated.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnKo1jkKtv9
Then, the man sighed. His face softened again, but his smile still felt stiff.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8AbnGHtvAY
"It's not a wound, kid. It's just... an old accident scar. Nothing to worry about."
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOnufssX5VO
He pulled his sleeve, covering the bulge completely.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4zx5q9XSDP
"And no, it doesn't hurt. It healed a long time ago."
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBayKwudGdj
Voltase nodded.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJKZn6FfoLQ
But in his heart, he didn't believe him.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWquoTCgBhU
An old accident scar?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIUuRO8Ou3F
Since when did an accident scar look like a bullet?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡefS2AOHdyo
Since when did an accident scar look like metal lodged beneath the skin?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTbP4Zqpctz
The man seemed uncomfortable. He looked left and right, as if making sure no one had heard their conversation.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiPrDDhFYiu
"You should get to class, son. Your next exam will start soon, right?"
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSuifhcwRvQ
"Yes, sir. The Social Studies exam."
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEjkt96I3mc
"Well, go on then. Don't be late."
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ37OzYg575B
The man patted Voltase's shoulder with an awkward motion, like someone not used to physical contact.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsfnDpHCwBO
"And next time, look ahead when you walk. Your phone can wait."
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYgA2RMKkWv
With that, the man turned and walked away.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLJXpjb2UcJ
His steps were slightly hurried, as if he wanted to get away from Voltase as quickly as possible.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrYTqLDCNqU
Voltase stood there.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4YqlavxKWz
Staring at the man's retreating back.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPE1e3uQBfd
He lied.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBQTp3ABKyC
That's not an accident scar.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZjsmYuswL2
That's a bullet.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxc2BxDMcDh
I know it's a bullet.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ34L8goEScD
I just saw a bullet just like that in my dream.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdne6j4PXdX
New questions began to crowd his head.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7NxhCBIcHL
Who is he? Where did he come from? How could he have a bullet in his arm?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzyYzbvqpTJ
And more importantly...
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5ToiywcyA6
Why did I dream about the exact same bullet last night?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmhK776Yaxh
Voltase bit his lower lip, tasting a hint of metal on his tongue.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiYsohofvfD
Something is happening here.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgfAqzqSojh
Something is wrong.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwENHwhzQ3U
And I have to find out what it is.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMUKEkv4iVZ
He looked down at his cracked phone.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡib3hmVCoCc
The screen was still on, displaying his last search results: images of bullets of various calibers and sizes.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3ZP0ntvn6i
With slightly trembling fingers, Voltase began typing a new keyword.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuehztqEElG
"Bullet in arm."
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa93BJ0gRY9
Search results appeared. Most were medical articles about projectiles remaining in shooting victims' bodies.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRIc0MDTzv7
Some discussed removal surgery. Others about infection risks. Others about long term effects.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT6E5xVdY3w
Voltase read them all quickly, his eyes scanning every word with razor-sharp focus.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfSIe9JnPFc
Then, he found something.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgpZtYY06x8
An image.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB6OBb9s3JC
A bullet with specific dimensions: 9x19 mm.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡngzgvAbibN
Voltase stopped his finger. His heart beat faster.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb75ZL7RXqB
This is it.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoT2Ed1WnOW
The shape is exactly what I saw on that teacher's arm.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY7XskjASbg
The size is the same. Everything is the same.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZR8wI7DIJv
He compared the image on the screen with his memory of the bulge.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAR8TOQybSO
No doubt. No difference.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOGsO2tuAxa
This is the same bullet.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrzPvaz4HeV
He closed his phone quickly, slipping it back into his pocket.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPZ7drd5l8z
In the distance, a bell rang. Break was over. The next exam would begin soon.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgOBoTOelhv
Voltase walked toward his classroom with quicker steps than usual.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB7cHa6MdJJ
His mind swirled like a whirlpool, trying to connect seemingly unrelated dots.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsVLm7ajEk0
Dreams about war.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIYGN8pqGIW
Dreams about death.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjNxZYCp9sL
A bullet in a teacher's arm.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIkMAK8t8RQ
I dreamed about the exact same bullet.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGC4i5oO4i0
This can't be coincidence.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZazHYSI5kO
But how?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhvmisX95m4
How does my dream connect to a teacher I've never even seen before?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJQmeXhJ3Wx
Or... have I seen him before?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuTkDGC9hwr
The question stopped him for a moment.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOy8YcbVwrG
He tried to remember. Had he ever met that man before? Perhaps in the school hallway? In the cafeteria? In the library?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7H08rhdHcL
No. His face wasn't familiar. He was sure he'd never seen that man before.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8dRs2YyvR5
But how could I dream about the bullet in his arm before seeing him?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLDRzFIo9dO
This doesn't make sense.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw9hRjtbYU1
This is impossible.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUXkRD0VJ0H
He entered the classroom, his head still full of questions.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtjcgG27MDw
The room was already half full. Other students sat in their seats, speaking in hushed voices or reading last-minute notes.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJVjaYEMXYU
Voltase walked to the desk in the back corner. The same desk he always chose.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6cRKAbtvQb
A place where he could observe everyone without being noticed.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7wmUuHxwcR
He sat down. Placed his backpack on the floor. Took out his pencil case.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0KjHwccReh
And on the desk, he spread out a blank sheet of paper.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyyezRnr7KH
He didn't intend to write anything on it. No.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAw9WyMsdIN
All he wanted was to think. Process all the new information.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4vjiMiH4Zn
A 9x19 mm bullet.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPfT2sQpxaR
In a teacher's arm.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhjd3GBa7K9
I dreamed about the same bullet.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbwfiRrX91P
about war and death.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz4UkffsKvt
I died in that dream not once, but twice.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAgsls502Ty
And every time, I felt everything.
Every pain, fear, the last second before darkness came.
Voltase closed his eyes.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXDwJQCoKpm
His head felt heavy, as if an invisible weight pressed down on his skull.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHiLVyUJetO
Should I tell someone?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEVyJkJQ9Zh
But who?
Who would believe a child who claims to dream about the same bullet in a teacher's arm?
They'll think I'm crazy.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3addLrxOTK
Or worse, they'll think it's a joke.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiaUZx2wNo7
And I don't want to be thought of as crazy.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3ZOzOMKyYq
Not here. In this school.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8Rr0NPGlAl
Voltase opened his eyes. He stared at the white, cracked ceiling.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCBR18IPD6X
The neon light flickered again, this time longer.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDkL4CGfWBb
In front of him, exam papers began to be distributed by the supervising teacher a middle-aged woman with gray hair and half moon glasses that always slipped to the tip of her nose.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuGVeIuH6YS
"The Social Studies exam will begin in five minutes. Please prepare your writing tools."
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcAf1dufAdG
Voltase picked up his pen. His hand moved mechanically, as usual.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNARiODQcX2
But his mind wasn't here.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpMNKASTYsv
Not in this classroom. Not among questions about history and geography.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV1Y8XYtc7d
His mind was still in the school hallway.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlA0r3vZf6m
Still seeing the bulge on that man's arm.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4IynCy7mlZ
Still comparing it to the image on his phone.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ91ht3YlTPX
9x19 mm.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡosN1XIFEtp
The same bullet.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxfid6wCaeG
How? Why?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRtEx5qKngC
And in his still-innocent heart still too young to understand the complexity of the world a seed of new fear began to grow.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPXamHL5PP6
Not fear of exams.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVwEUGSa6PA
Not fear of angry teachers.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVzDxL2BwTO
Not even fear of the nightmare that would come tonight.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXWoZdnqLf6
But fear of something deeper. Something he couldn't name.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKKcEKFWDQV
Fear that all of this the dreams, the deaths, the bullet, that man were all connected in ways he didn't understand.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFzbtbFbGMh
And that the connection might be more dangerous than anything he could imagine.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7VXRqn3RX2
The exam began.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKCblbCWJeg
Voltase stared at the paper before him.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7y0ip3yDvB
"Explain the causes of World War I and its impact on the European political order."
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwd8D8AkrWT
He knew the answer. He knew history well probably better than most children his age.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWgZNY4USWt
But his hand didn't move.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1bCZbYB0Nk
All he could think about was the war in his dreams.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNl8QNe8XWT
The battlefield full of corpses. Blood flowing on muddy ground.
The blond-haired man dying with a bullet in his head.
That war wasn't like what was taught in history books.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ1SQQIMhaD
The war in his dreams felt real.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLVQM7pbDvO
Too real.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvV2OcDzufe
He bit the end of his pen a bad habit he could never break.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡubKZ8oNj0f
Think about the exam, Voltase. Concentrate. This is important.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXk3NCeUp7v
But his mind refused to cooperate.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJeoIBqZX0W
What he saw behind his eyelids was a 9x19 mm bullet. The wound on that man's arm. The strange bulge hiding beneath the white shirt.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEo4TDHinnx
What happened to him?
Was he ever shot?
Is that bullet still in his arm?
Why didn't he have surgery?
The questions kept spinning. Like a wheel that wouldn't stop.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaykTj0j3DT
He let out a long sigh. Tried to calm himself.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEJp9lSUtjg
It's not important now. What matters is the exam. Finish this. Afterward, I can find out more.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsWIKdJeTsd
He began writing. His hand moved across the paper, forming words about military alliances, rising nationalism, and the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAEGMunuui1
But in his heart, a small voice kept whispering.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZX33LEjAff
You know it's not a coincidence.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyrRyR0igvP
You know there's a connection.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKctfsvElqg
And you know you have to find out.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNagljNv9Im
But how? Where to begin?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl8LfB0n6eW
Thirty minutes later, Voltase finished his exam.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5VQSlsEeKh
He set his pen down calmly, staring at the paper with a flat expression. His answers were complete perhaps not perfect, but good enough.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrR8AYLZnN8
But he didn't feel satisfied.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8j09kqxq0D
He felt empty.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZSGmn7ecsH
Like a part of him was missing. Left behind in the school hallway when he bumped into that man. Left behind in the dreams that kept haunting his sleep.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFcvsWsOtjO
He glanced at the wall clock.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAE1tHRREAf
There was still time left before the exam ended.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx60kfoE6OL
Nothing to do but sit and wait.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4thAbB2Slb
He let his gaze drift out the window. The sky was still gray. Trees in the schoolyard swayed gently in the cold morning breeze.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPw2Y1n2czX
In the distance, he saw a group of students playing football. They ran, shouted, laughed living in a way he never had.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAKl6nSQsgq
He envied them.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdX9USIBSRm
Envied how easily they enjoyed life. Envied their indifference to unimportant things.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIBuX73gEh4
They never wake up in the middle of the night feeling like they're being strangled.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMZpDpIpDxb
Never feel a bullet enter their chest.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA3hMktWKcm
Never see corpses scattered around them.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkcjdTb8khR
They don't know how lucky they are.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBIRwFq0oHV
Voltase closed his eyes for a moment, trying to rest his weary mind.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6lSs5lAJBu
But rest didn't come.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnOItd3iJvr
What came was the memory of the dream.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3QeUnV9sZJ
His final moments. The pain spreading from his neck throughout his body. The darkness slowly creeping in, swallowing his consciousness.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXhR46BtVZd
Bang.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOr89oqdgEh
He opened his eyes suddenly, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVtZxhtc0Qv
No. Don't think about that.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRBQOy07IpS
Now is not the time.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1xo13YiHip
You have to focus.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6WkBkdviJE
But his mind wouldn't listen.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvISpCam0Ox
And in the darkness, the whisper began again.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6vCPuOh8Jk
You'll go back. Tonight.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSwMPTJHucP
You'll go back to that place.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqw2fkC4qgh
And you'll die again.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjni2T082bP
The bell rang.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL6hlExKTf1
The exam was over.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1tVxPdFPPw
Other students began collecting their papers with rustling sounds and quiet conversations. Some looked relieved, others anxious.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFR68zdxGUt
Voltase remained seated. Not moving.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbACjFXME1t
The supervising teacher walked past his desk.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡE6Ae2lDMA6
"Are you finished, Watt?"
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFYCVbtTL0W
"Yes, ma'am."
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡONZtsHmmrL
He handed over his paper slowly.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8I5hZinxlh
The teacher nodded and walked to the next desk.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxbNsJVrCH0
Voltase let his gaze go blank for a moment. Then, he stood up.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8sZQe6KzFm
He picked up his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and walked out of the classroom.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡujBwYlvhUj
The hallway was already crowded.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtQJASVXnwy
Students scattered everywhere, talking loudly about the exam. Some laughed, some complained, some walked silently while staring at their phones.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn3JEiPCo5n
Voltase walked past them all, paying attention to no one.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY93axWVsVe
All he could think about was one thing.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeYOMWtbMCr
I have to find out who that man is.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrAviDUj08q
Find out what happened to him.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTzCbRaqZUO
Find out why I dreamed about the bullet in his arm.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9CP2TltTcp
And I have to do it before night falls.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc53mIW9nVk
He stopped in front of the bulletin board at the end of the hallway.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrvoPDfX3Yr
There, hanging, was a list of teachers and school staff. Their photos were neatly displayed in plastic frames, with names and positions beneath.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnrGDKGX5Uo
Voltase scanned the list with his eyes.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUui9i2DFYq
Searching for the face he'd just met.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡINPFiAElpu
Mr. Anderson—Mathematics.
Mrs. Bennett—English.
Mr. Clarke—History.
Mrs. Davis—Art.
Mr. Evans—Science.
Nothing.
No face of a man with light brown hair and hazel green eyes.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡklGr5nqXcM
No name matching his description.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFAtmsqsogV
Maybe he's a new teacher?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJwKcUPCMrA
Maybe his photo hasn't been put up yet?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcrO2uFmTbM
Or maybe...
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxAQlxUQdIY
The thought made his skin crawl.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRwKMkUGYir
Maybe he's not a teacher.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLBDDkGAyso
Maybe he's someone else.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBfpLTYhQ4E
Maybe he—
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4UzIJ7IOwg
He shook his head, trying to banish those thoughts.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGnPFTqj1RS
Don't be too paranoid, Voltase.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMNDHxh07KN
Maybe his photo just hasn't been put up yet. Or he's a substitute teacher. That's a reasonable explanation.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAVHoLMlgti
But even as he thought that, a part of him didn't believe it.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8858tOQsv7
Nothing made sense anymore. Not since he started dreaming about war. Not since he felt a bullet enter his chest.
Not since he saw that man.
He walked to the school library.
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The room was silent, as usual. Only a few students sat at the long tables, reading or working on assignments.
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The librarian an old woman with white hair and thick glasses sat behind the front desk, reading a novel.
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Voltase walked between the bookshelves. Searching for something anything that could help him understand.
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He stopped in the psychology section.
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Books about dreams. About the subconscious. About trauma and memory.
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He took a thick book titled "The Psychology of Dreams: A Clinical Approach."
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He opened it to the first page and began reading.
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"Dreams are a universal phenomenon that have fascinated humans since ancient times..."
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He read further, looking for sections about recurring dreams. About dreams that felt real. About dreams involving death.
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"Recurring dreams are often associated with unresolved traumatic experiences. The brain attempts to process the trauma through dreams, but because the trauma is too heavy to process all at once, the brain repeats it over and over..."
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Voltase frowned.
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I don't have trauma. Nothing happened to me. My life is ordinary. Boring, even.
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Then why do I keep dreaming about war?
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He read further.
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"Some researchers argue that highly realistic dreams could be manifestations of genetic memory. memories inherited from our ancestors through DNA. This theory is controversial and not scientifically proven, but interesting to consider..."
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Genetic memory?
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Could I have inherited memories of war from someone in the past? From my grandfather? Or my great-grandfather?
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But my family was never involved in war. At least, not that I know of.
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He closed the book in frustration. No satisfying answers. Only unprovable theories.
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He put it back on the shelf, then walked to another section.
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This time, he stopped in the medicine section.
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"Projectiles and Gunshot Trauma: Medical and Psychological Management"
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He pulled the book from the shelf, opening it to the page about bullet types.
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Detailed images of various calibers. Descriptions of size, weight, and effects on the human body.
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Voltase scanned the pages quickly, looking for something that matched what he'd seen.
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And then, he found it.
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"9x19 mm Parabellum. also known as 9mm Luger. One of the most common bullet calibers in the world. Widely used by military and police forces. This projectile has a diameter of 9 mm and a casing length of 19 mm..."
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This is it.
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This is exactly what I saw.
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I'm sure of it.
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He read further about its effects.
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"The 9x19 mm bullet has significant penetrating power. At close range, it can penetrate bone and cause severe tissue damage. Bullets that lodge in the body without hitting vital organs are often left in place because removal surgery can pose greater risks than benefits..."
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So the bullet might have been deliberately left in his arm.
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Because removing it was too dangerous.
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But how did he get shot?
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The questions continued spinning. Without answers.
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Voltase returned to his dormitory at 3 PM.
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His room felt quiet and cold, as usual. The window curtains were tightly drawn, leaving only a small gap for gray light to seep in.
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He took off his shoes. Placed his backpack beside the wardrobe. Sat on the edge of his bed.
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The room felt smaller than usual. More cramped. More suffocating.
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He stared at his cracked phone, still displaying his last search results.
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9x19 mm.
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The same bullet.
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On that man's arm.
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In my dream.
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He gripped his phone tightly, feeling the cold plastic and glass in his palm.
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Something is happening.
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Something is wrong.
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And I have to find out.
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Before night falls.
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Before I go back to that dream.
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Before I die again.
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Outside the window, the sky began to darken.
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Gray clouds moved slowly, covering the remnants of sunlight trying to break through.
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Rain would fall again tonight.
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Voltase could feel it in the air. The rising humidity. The scent of damp earth beginning to seep in.
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He lay on his bed, staring at the cracked ceiling.
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In his head, one question kept repeating.
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Who is that man?
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And what does he have to do with my dreams?
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He had no answers.
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All he had was a bad feeling. A feeling that everything was about to change. A feeling that his ordinary, boring life was about to end.
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And a feeling that tonight, he would return to that battlefield.
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For the third time.
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