Prologue: Senseless Death
“You’re useless, Dawn.”
Those words cut deep. They always did. No matter how many times he’d heard them, they felt like knives twisting inside his chest.
That night, he walked away from home. Alone. Past the flickering streetlights, down the empty road, toward the abandoned building he always ended up at.
Step after step, up the dust-covered stairs, until there were no more stairs left. The rooftop. The edge of everything.
“...Hurts.”
He tilted his head to the sky. No moon tonight. Just darkness, swallowing everything whole.
Then, laughter. Harsh. Broken.
“HAHAHA… I really am useless. Can’t even—”
He stumbled mid-sentence. The laughter cracked, turning into something ugly, trembling.
“Even if I’m not some stupid Marionette… why… why can’t I…”
The mask he wore every day shattered. The quiet sobs turned into screams, tearing out of him raw and desperate. If anyone saw him now, they’d think he was insane—pulling at his own hair, punching himself like he could beat the pain out.
Up there, in the cold wind, Dawn came apart. Laughter mixed with grief until it was impossible to tell them apart.
Then silence.
He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, rough and angry. Tried. Failed. Again. Life kept spinning in the same cursed circle—loneliness, emptiness, like living inside a hollow shell.
“I want to be free…”
He wanted out. Out of the chains. Out of everything.
“I just want to rest…”
He was so damn tired.
Dawn pushed himself to his feet. Felt like his bones might break if he moved too fast.
Fall?
Yeah. That sounded like a plan.
He walked to the edge. Looked down at the city lights, then up at the sky. The moon had finally broken free from the clouds.
“Will you take me away? …Thanks.”
A whisper to no one. Or maybe to the moon.
One last breath.
Then he jumped.
Weightless. Free.
For a second. Just a second.
---
It should’ve ended there.
It didn’t.
He was still alive. Barely.
People gathered fast—faces full of shock, fear, curiosity. Phones out, cameras flashing, like this was just another show.
“Haha… my body’s wrecked,” he thought bitterly.
Couldn’t talk. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t feel the pain anymore either. Everything was numb. Blood kept pouring out anyway.
The crowd’s noise grated on his nerves. Footsteps. Murmurs. Shouts. Too much.
Then he heard it.
Crying.
Faint at first, then louder.
He turned his fading gaze toward the sound. A boy was crouched nearby, shoulders shaking.
Weird. Dawn couldn’t see the kid’s face. Could see everyone else fine, but not him.
“Whose kid is this? Move, idiots, you’re gonna crush him! Damn it—if only I could talk!”
“Why did you jump?”
The boy’s question hit harder than the concrete had.
Dawn smiled weakly, reaching for that small, trembling hand.
Still couldn’t see the boy’s face. And now the rest of the crowd was fading, too. He knew what that meant. Time was almost up.
The boy’s small hand gripped his tightly. Spoke words that didn’t make sense—Dawn’s own last words before the fall. How did he know?
No time to wonder. All that mattered was stopping the boy’s tears.
With what little strength he had left, Dawn squeezed back, hoping the boy could see in his eyes the promise: It’s okay.
The smile stayed for just a moment before slipping away. His grip weakened.
And finally… Dawn let go.
The light in his eyes dimmed. His body grew cold.
Nineteen years. And the chain finally snapped.
