262 Answer 2 (1/2)

”Dad…” Dyon's voice didn't sound out, but he felt like it took all of his strength to even mouth that word.

His father stood in a state Dyon had never seen before. His handsome face was drenched in tears as he gripped the side of the coffin, silently muttering to himself.

But, the view of the coffin itself was something Dyon couldn't bring himself to look at… Because he knew what it held… And it wasn't someone he could stand to see.

And yet, against his wishes, his feet began to move.

No matter how hard he struggled, his steps remained steady, pushing him up the church steps to stand right beside his trembling father.

Dyon's head tilted downward, forcing him to look at the woman who lay in the coffin peacefully.

His mother was a white woman with delicate features. Her hair was a long brunette strung with the petals of flowers, adorning her in death. And yet, even in death, her face still held a rosy color that made it seem as though she could stand at any moment.

'I'm sorry I couldn't protect you…'

Dyon didn't need to look over for his father's deep voice to fill his ears. He couldn't help but tremble under the sound – one he hadn't heard in what seemed like a lifetime.

'I'll protect him until my time comes… He'll be strong and as stubborn as his father. But, he'll be as caring and as loving as his mother. I'll do my best to make up for my failures with you, with our son. I promise… I promise…'

Suddenly, the room shifted around Dyon again.

He was in the same church, except this time, there was only a ten-year-old boy a bit tall for his age standing in front of a coffin.

The boy clenched his fists so tightly that blood dripped to the floor, saying not a single word as tears streamed down his face.

To Dyon, it was as though he was experiencing his parent's death all over again. The pain of his father. The pain of his younger self. They were as palpable as they had been that day. And yet, all he could do was watch.

Dyon felt his world spinning. He looked down at his hands to suddenly notice they were shrinking. He was melding together with his younger self!

The room changed once again, and this time, he was in a training ground with his father running right at him.

”Keep your hands up Dyon! How could you lose to such a pathetic excuse for a man? Who the fuck is Darius Storm to a Sacharro. And you lost to him!?

This is all because you don't listen to me! You're too arrogant and you don't listen to authority!”

Dyon's father's fist slammed into Dyon's forearms, sending him flying.

Dyon grunted, it was almost like the pain was being magnified. He could feel his own flesh tearing, but, at the same time, he could feel his father's heart aching because of the pain he was causing his son.

And yet, Sacharro's face remained as cold as steel. ”Tell me! What does being a Sacharro mean?!”