shadow blade

As I lay there in the hospital bed, the sterile smell mixing with the faint sound of beeping machines, I couldn't shake the feeling that my life had been split into two distinct realities. One moment, I was a high school student, dodging bullies like Jin and his gang, the Shadow League. The next, I was immersed in vivid memories of an ancient life, dressed in flowing robes, wielding a sword, and surrounded by the mystique of a world that felt both familiar and foreign.

My uncle's visit was unexpected. He had always been a peculiar man, with his wild theories and belief in reincarnation. I chuckled at the thought as he sat down beside me, concern etched across his face. "You're experiencing something extraordinary," he said, leaning in closer. "Those memories you see—they're fragments of your past life."

"Come on, Uncle. This is absurd! I just got hit in the head!" I retorted, trying to dismiss his claims. But deep down, a part of me was intrigued. The visions were so vivid. I could see the sun setting over ancient mountains, hear the whispers of forgotten chants, and feel the weight of the sword in my hand as if it were my own.

He insisted, "Sometimes, trauma can unlock hidden memories from previous lives. You were a warrior, a protector in another time. Perhaps those memories are trying to guide you."

I rolled my eyes, but as he spoke, I found myself drifting back into those visions. I was no longer in the hospital; I was standing on a cliff, overlooking a vast valley. I could feel the cool breeze against my skin, the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I prepared for battle. There were faces I recognized—companions I had fought alongside, their spirits somehow still lingering within me.

The memories continued to flood in: lessons learned, battles fought, the weight of responsibility. I felt the weight of honor and betrayal, love and loss. Each memory was a thread weaving my past and present together, creating a tapestry of who I was and who I was meant to be.

"Maybe you're right," I finally admitted to my uncle, the laughter fading from my voice. "What if I am experiencing something from another life? What if I was a warrior?"

His eyes lit up with understanding. "Embrace it, my boy. Those memories could be a guide for you now. There's a reason they've come to you."

As I lay back in the hospital bed, the sounds of the machines faded, replaced by the echoes of ancient battles. I closed my eyes, allowing the memories to wash over me, realizing that this strange event had changed everything. My life was no longer just about escaping bullies or fitting in. I was on the brink of discovering a purpose that transcended time itself. The Shadow League had awakened something within me that I couldn't yet fully comprehend, but one thing was clear: my journey was just beginning.