Chapter 2: The Soldier's Words

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(Kian’s POV)

The smell of gunpowder clung to the air, thick and heavy, like a dark cloud that refused to leave. I could hear the distant sound of bombs exploding in the background, the deafening roar of chaos that had become my daily reality. The war was tearing everything apart, leaving nothing but wreckage in its wake.

I had been on the front lines for what felt like an eternity, a soldier trapped in a world that no longer resembled the one I had once known. We had been fighting for so long, it was hard to remember why we started. The faces of my comrades had begun to blur, their names fading into the background of the war. But there was one thing I couldn't forget, no matter how hard I tried.

Her.

I’d never met her, not in the traditional sense. But I could feel her. She was with me in the quiet moments, in the silence between gunfire and screams. I’d never understood how, but I had started to hear her voice, faint at first, like a whisper in the wind. Sometimes, it was just a soft echo, barely audible, and other times it was clearer—louder, like she was calling to me, reaching out to me across the divide of time and space.

And it wasn’t just her voice. It was a feeling, too. A presence, warm and comforting, in the midst of all this destruction. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face. Not clearly, but enough to know that I wasn’t imagining it. She was real. I had never believed in the supernatural, but when I woke up with a sense of her beside me, I knew I wasn’t alone in this war.

I knew, somehow, that she was waiting for me.

I sat in the corner of our makeshift barracks, the walls worn and stained from years of use. I was exhausted, my body battered and bruised from the constant fighting, but there was something more pressing gnawing at me. My hand brushed against the journal I kept in my pack. The one that had become my anchor, my lifeline to something outside the hell that surrounded me.

It was there I found the words—words I hadn’t written but had somehow known, words that seemed to come from a place beyond me.

*"I don’t know who you are, but I feel you with me. The world is crumbling around us, but you are my constant. I don’t know where you are or when, but I will find you. I have to."*

The words were my own, and yet, they weren’t. It was as though they were written by someone who existed in a different time, in a different world. But the connection I felt to them... to her... it was undeniable.

The feeling of her presence never left me. It wasn’t just a thought. It was a pull—a magnetic force that I couldn’t resist. Every night, I wrote in the journal, pouring my thoughts into the pages as though she could somehow read them, somehow hear me. It was my way of reaching out, of telling her that I was here, that I hadn’t forgotten her, that no matter how far apart we were, I would find her.

I had no idea how, but I would.

And then, something happened. A feeling I couldn't explain, an overwhelming sense of certainty. I closed my eyes that night, letting the exhaustion overtake me, and for the first time, I heard her name.

Ayla.

It came to me like a soft whisper, her name floating in the air like a secret, a gift. Her name. I didn’t know why I knew it, but it felt familiar, as if it was something I had always known, like it had been written in the stars long before I ever existed.

I sat up abruptly, my heart pounding in my chest. My fingers gripped the journal harder. The weight of the moment hit me with full force. I wasn’t just hearing her anymore. I wasn’t just feeling her. I knew her name.

I stared down at the journal, the words already beginning to fill the pages as I tried to comprehend what was happening.

*"Ayla, I don’t know how this is possible, but I will find you. No matter the distance. No matter the time. You are mine, and I am yours."*

I didn’t know how to explain it. I didn’t know how I could be certain. But deep in my bones, I knew she was waiting for me.

And I would find her.

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