A bolt of lightning split the sky, a white flash swallowing the dim room thick with the smell of blood and rain. His consciousness fell—then slammed into a tiny, lifeless body. No breath. No movement. His chest refused to rise, his throat sealed as if the world itself had decided he should not exist. Voices drifted through the storm, distant and cold.
"Midwife… you remember what I told you, don't you?"
"I do. Just a moment."
Calm. Too calm. Then—silence. A suffocating, endless silence.
"I'm sorry… the child isn't breathing."
"No… no, that can't be. Please, save our baby…"
"If she says so… then the child is gone. It won't come back."
In that instant, lightning flared—
CRACK!
Thunder tore through the sky.
"Waaah… waaah…!"
Air rushed into his lungs like fire. Pain flooded his chest—but with it came life. A weak cry broke free, then grew louder, sharper, cutting through the storm.
"He… he's crying…!"
"Wait… this—"
A trembling pair of hands pulled him close—warm, desperate, refusing to let go. The woman's breath shook, clinging to a miracle she didn't dare lose.
"My child… you're alive… thank the heavens…"
The man fell silent. The midwife said nothing more. Only the rain remained, and the frantic beating of a newborn heart.
"Can you hear me, my child… no matter what happens… I will keep you here…"
"I will protect you… with everything I have…"
"And from this moment on… you will have a name… a name this world will remember…"
"I will name you… Luciel Varyn."