Future Vision

“Oya? Boy? You awake?”

A calm, gentle voice drifted through the haze. My body felt heavy, like I’d been asleep for centuries. When my vision finally cleared, I saw him—

a man sitting cross-legged in front of me, smiling faintly. His hair flowed like black silk, tied with a golden crown, and his robe shimmered with heavenly light.

“Who… who are you?” I stammered, pushing myself up. “What happened!? Where am I? My parents—where are they!?”

My voice cracked as panic surged through me. “Where’s my mother!? My father!?”

The man lifted a hand, his tone steady.

“Boy, calm down. What you experienced was foresight magic.”

“Foresight… magic?” I repeated, breath trembling. “No, that can’t be! I was with them—my parents—they were right there when the bandits—WAHHHHHHHHH!!”

I tried to scream, but nothing came out. My mouth moved, my throat burned, but no sound escaped. I clawed at the silence, terrified.

“Boy’a, calm down, little one,” the man said again, softly but firmly. His presence alone quieted the storm in my chest.

And then, like a spark in my mind, I remembered that voice—the one that called me little one in the white room before my birth.

I stared at him wide-eyed. “You… You’re the voice! Aren’t you!?”

The man smiled faintly. “Boy’a, I’m not just a voice. I am the God of Heaven and Earth. There are many gods above, but only I have the power to reincarnate a soul.”

I froze. “You’re… a God?”

He nodded. “Yes. And right now, you’re in my Sacred Room.”

I looked around—the endless white space, the air shimmering with divine energy. “Then… what I experienced… that wasn’t real?”

“It was a vision,” the God explained. “What you saw was your future. Foresight Light Magic allowed you to live through it as if it were real, but your reincarnation hasn’t truly begun yet.”

My heartbeat slowed. “So… I haven’t been reborn yet? I’m… still here?”

He nodded again.

“You see it for yourself,” he said. “Do you have hands? Feet? A body? When you first arrived in this room, did you have any of those?”

I looked down at myself—formless, weightless, a flickering soul of light. “No… you’re right.”

“But I don’t understand,” I said, desperate. “I didn’t cast any magic! I just read books! How could I—how could I cause that?”

The God’s expression softened. “When you read those books, you unknowingly activated a forbidden spell—Prae-Cognitio. It’s an ancient foresight magic that reveals the path of your destiny. It didn’t trigger right away—it waited until your mind absorbed every bit of knowledge from that room.”

My eyes widened. “The light that entered my head… that was it?”

He nodded. “Yes. That light was the spell binding itself to your soul.”

I stared down, trembling. “But… it felt real. Everything. The pain, the anger, their deaths—it wasn’t just a dream.”

“That’s what Prae-Cognitio does,” the God said gently. “It doesn’t just show the future—it makes you feel it. Every emotion, every loss, as though it truly happened.”

The God lifted his hand, and in the air, a small image shimmered into being.

It was my parents—kneeling beside each other, hands clasped, praying before a small shrine. My mother’s eyes were closed, her lips whispering gratitude. My father smiled beside her, proud and alive.

Tears flooded my vision. “They’re… alive?”

I reached for the image, but it vanished in light.

“Now that you’ve seen them,” the God said, “what will you do, boy? Will you accept that future? Will you let it happen again?”

My hands—my glowing, trembling hands—clenched tight. “No… Never again.”

The God’s expression warmed. “Do not fear defying Heaven and Earth, little one. As long as your heart is pure, even rebellion can be righteous. Protect them. Change the fate you’ve seen. That is why I’ve shown you this path.”

I bowed my head, tears dripping like rain. “Thank you… thank you, God.”

He smiled, the light around him growing softer. “Go, little one. I can no longer interfere with your life, but I grant you my blessing. Live your new life fully. And remember—your choices now will rewrite everything.”

His form faded into golden mist, his voice echoing faintly—

“See you again soon, my child.”

Light swallowed everything.

When I opened my eyes again, I recognized the ceiling—the faint glow, the warmth, the muffled voices.

“Qui’er!” my father’s voice shouted. “It’s a boy!”

My mother sobbed with joy. “Thank you, God of Heaven and Earth, for blessing us with a child!”

Tiny fingers wrapped around theirs. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

The world was the same, but I wasn’t.

I looked at them—my mother, my father—and whispered with the voice of a newborn, a vow that only I could hear:

“I’ll never let you die in front of me again.”

My father laughed joyfully. “Let’s name him Yan Yan—it means God’s Gift.”

And this time, I promised myself—