10:17 AM.
The Biology exam was over.
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Voltase set his pen down slowly. His movements were mechanical, like a robot running out of battery.
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The answer sheet before him was filled with neat handwriting.
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Too neat.
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Every letter was formed with unnatural precision, as if his hand moved independently of his wandering mind.
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Outside the classroom window, the Oxford sky was still gray.
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Thick clouds hung low, holding back rain that refused to fall.
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The faint sound of St. Mary's church bells echoed in the distance.
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Ten times.
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Heavy. Resonant. The sound drifted between the old red-brick buildings that had witnessed hundreds of years of history, yet remained silent to the suffering of individuals like him.
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Voltase let out a long sigh.
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His chest felt tight. Not from pain. More from emptiness.
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Like there was a hollow space inside his ribcage. A space that should have been filled by something feeling, meaning, or simply the will to live like other children his age.
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He glanced at the wall clock.
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Still morning.
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And this morning, like the mornings before, his body and mind were on different paths.
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His body sat on the hard wooden chair, in a classroom smelling of chalk and old paper.
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His mind? His mind was still on the blood-soaked battlefield.
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Still feeling the cold hands strangling his neck.
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Still seeing the face of the pale blond man. a face frozen in surprise as the bullet pierced his skull.
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Why do I keep going back there?
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The question spun in his head like a broken record.
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Repeating. Without an answer.
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He rose from his chair slowly. Almost reluctantly.
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The other children had already scattered out, their cheerful voices flooding the hallway with laughter and chatter that felt foreign to him.
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A boy with fiery red hair ran past him, nearly bumping Voltase's thin shoulder.
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Girls in neat uniforms huddled near the window, discussing concerts and celebrities with names he'd never heard.
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They lived in a different world.
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Voltase reached for his canvas backpack. It was black, worn, with stitching beginning to unravel at the bottom.
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He slung it over his narrow right shoulder, feeling its light weight, only a few books and a pencil case.
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I don't carry much.
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I don't need much.
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Outside the classroom, the hallway stretched long and white.
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Tiled floors reflected the flickering neon light. old lamps long overdue for replacement, but never replaced.
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The walls were adorned with portraits of past headmasters, their black eyes seeming to follow his every step.
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Voltase walked without purpose.
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Or rather, he walked with one vague purpose.
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To find answers.
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He pulled his phone from his pocket.
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The screen lit up with a pale blue glow, displaying a row of app icons he'd never touched. His small fingers.
still retaining their childish roundness, not yet hardened and calloused like the ones in his dreams, began typing into the search bar.
Dreams.
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Recurring.
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Death.
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He pressed search. A list of results appeared. Scientific articles, discussion forums, psychology blogs. all offered different explanations.
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But none felt right.
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"Recurring dreams are often caused by unresolved trauma..."
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"Dreams about death can symbolize major life changes..."
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"Some experts believe dreams are the brain's way of processing information..."
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Voltase frowned.
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His black eyes like two bottomless pits scanned every word with an intensity unusual for a child his age.
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But I don't have trauma.
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I haven't experienced any major changes.
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Then why do I keep dreaming about war?
About dying?
His fingers moved again. This time, he typed.
meaning of dreams about war.
More results appeared. Some spoke of internal conflict. Others about fear of failure. Some linked it to feelings of helplessness.
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He read them all.
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None matched what he was feeling.
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He wasn't in conflict with himself.
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Not afraid of failing exams.
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He didn't feel helpless at least, not in real life.
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All he felt was utter confusion.
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Like a detective finding puzzle pieces that didn't connect. With no idea where to begin.
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He walked through the second hallway, toward the east wing.
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Here, it was quieter.
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Only a few students passed by. A girl with thick glasses sat on a bench near the window, reading a thick book. Two boys stood near the vending machine, arguing about football.
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Voltase kept walking, his eyes fixed on the screen.
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"Recurring dreams about death can be a sign of severe stress..."
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"In Jungian psychology, death dreams often relate to self-transformation..."
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"Some studies suggest highly realistic dreams can be caused by sleep disorders..."
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No. No. No.
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All those explanations felt shallow. None touched the core of what he was experiencing.
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He felt the bullet enter his chest.
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His blood flow out.
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The hands choking his own neck.
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It wasn't just a dream. It was too real.
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Like a memory.
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The thought came suddenly. Voltase stopped walking.
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Like a memory.
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Like something that actually happened to me.
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But when?
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He had no answer.
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Only deepening darkness inside his mind.
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Like a bottomless chasm.
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And then, he collided with something.
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Or rather, someone.
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The impact happened so fast that Voltase had no time to react.
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His light body for a child his age, bounced backward like a rag doll. His backpack flew off his shoulder, sailed through the air, and landed with a thud on the tiled floor.
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Voltase himself fell.
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His butt hit the hard, cold floor first.
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A jolt of pain shot from his tailbone up through his lower back.
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"Ouch..."
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He winced, his hand instinctively reaching for the sore spot.
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For a moment, the world spun. The neon lights on the ceiling seemed to flicker faster. The sounds around him echoed from afar.
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And then, he realized something else.
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His phone.
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It had slipped from his grip when he fell. Now, it lay face down on the floor.
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Voltase reached for it with trembling hands. He turned it over slowly.
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And—
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A crack.
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A thin crack spread from the upper right corner of the screen, like a spiderweb creeping across the glass.
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Not too severe still usable but enough to make his chest tighten.
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"I just replaced the screen protector last month..."
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But the complaint soon faded when he heard a voice from above.
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"What are you doing, kids?"
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The voice was deep. Resonant. With a... strange tone.
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Like someone trying to be gentle, but with tension coiled behind the words. A tension he couldn't fully hide.
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Voltase looked up.
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For the first time that morning, his onyx eyes met the face before him.
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The man was tall.
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Not extremely tall, perhaps around 180 centimeters but with an upright posture and broad shoulders, he seemed to dominate the space around him.
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His hair was light brown, almost golden, neatly combed to the side. A bit of gel gave it a professional look.
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His brows were thick and sharp, lending a serious expression to his otherwise handsome face.
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A firm chin. A strong jaw.
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And his eyes.
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Hazel green.
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They looked down at Voltase with a mixture of surprise and... something else.
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Perhaps concern. Perhaps curiosity.
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Perhaps—
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A bulge.
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Voltase's attention suddenly shifted.
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Beneath the man's white shirtsleeve, right near his right wrist, there was a strange protrusion disrupting the straight line of his arm.
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Its shape was oval.
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With a pointed front end.
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And a blunt, rounded back.
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Like—
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A bullet.
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The thought shot through Voltase's brain like a lightning strike.
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The fog that had clouded his mind all morning vanished instantly. His drowsy eyes snapped wide open. Focused. Sharp.
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He stared at the bulge. Couldn't stop staring.
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It looked exactly like what he'd seen in his dream.
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The same shape. The same size. Even the position on the right arm, near the wrist felt familiar.
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But that was impossible.
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There was no way a bullet was lodged in a teacher's arm.
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It didn't make sense.
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It—
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"What are you looking at, kid?"
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The man's voice broke his trance.
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Voltase flinched. He realized his hand unconsciously been reaching toward the man's arm. His index finger was almost touching the strange bulge beneath the fabric.
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Quickly, he pulled it back.
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His face flushed with embarrassment. Or awkwardness. He wasn't sure.
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All he knew was that he'd nearly touched a stranger's body part without permission.
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"Sorry, sir," he said quickly, his voice slightly hoarse.
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"I—I wasn't watching where I was going. I was—"
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He pointed to his cracked phone, then shook his head.
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"I was just... not paying attention."
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The man stared at him with an unreadable expression.
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Silence.
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For a few seconds that felt like an eternity, neither spoke. Only the sound of other students' footsteps in the distance, and the hum of flickering neon lights.
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Then, the man extended his hand.
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"Get up first."
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His hand was large.
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Larger than anyone's Voltase had ever seen up close. His palm was wide with long, strong-looking fingers. On the back of his hand, prominent veins stood out. physical signs of someone used to hard work.
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Voltase accepted the outstretched hand.
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The grip was firm, but not painful. With a gentle pull, the man lifted his light body from the floor.
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"Thank you, sir," said Voltase, rubbing his still sore backside.
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The man nodded. A faint smile appeared on his lips.
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A smile that felt... forced.
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Unnatural. Like someone who hadn't smiled in a long time and had to remember how.
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"Are you all right?"
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"Yes, sir. Just a little startled."
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"Good."
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The man looked down, noticing the cracked phone.
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"Your screen is cracked."
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Voltase nodded, slightly embarrassed.
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"Yes, sir. I just... fell earlier."
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"You should be more careful," said the man, his tone softening.
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Yet there was still something behind his words.
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Something that reminded Voltase of adults talking to small children, hiding things they didn't want them to know.
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"Walking while staring at your phone is dangerous. You could bump into someone, or worse, get hit by a vehicle."
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"I know, sir. I'm sorry."
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Voltase lowered his head.
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His eyes involuntarily glanced at the man's arm again.
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The bulge was still there. Still disturbing. Still like a bullet lodged beneath the skin.
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Questions crowded his head.
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Is that a bullet?
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How could a bullet be in someone's arm?
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Was he ever shot? When? Where? Why?
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But Voltase held back.
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He was still a child, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that asking such questions to a newly met adult was inappropriate. Rude. Even dangerous.
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"Kids?"
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The man's voice broke his thoughts.
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Voltase looked up, trying to put on his usual blank expression.
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"Yes, sir?"
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"You look confused. Is something wrong?"
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"No, sir. I was just..."
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He stopped. The words felt heavy on his tongue. He wanted to ask. So badly.
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But what came out was only:
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"...does it hurt?"
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The man frowned.
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"What?"
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Voltase pointed to the man's arm. To the bulge still hidden beneath the shirt.
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"The wound on your arm, sir. Does it hurt?"
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For a moment, the man's face changed.
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His neutral expression almost friendly turned rigid.
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His jaw tightened. His hazel green eyes suddenly seemed sharper. More alert.
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"How do you know there's a wound?"
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"I saw the bulge in your arm, sir," said Voltase honestly. "Its shape looks like—"
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He stopped before the word bullet escaped.
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Instinct told him that wasn't the right word to say.
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"—like something strange. I was curious."
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The man fell silent.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSMbn5lQWoe
For a while, he just stared at Voltase with an unreadable gaze. A gaze that made Voltase feel like he was being interrogated.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlH1DE16k5K
Then, the man sighed. His face softened again, but his smile still felt stiff.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡikAXprPRyi
"It's not a wound, kid. It's just... an old accident scar. Nothing to worry about."
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHAZn1UBImv
He pulled his sleeve, covering the bulge completely.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMkm2YNwbfW
"And no, it doesn't hurt. It healed a long time ago."
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8uLOthYM7X
Voltase nodded.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5EcU6st1Lk
But in his heart, he didn't believe him.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw5V3DQ0qsD
An old accident scar?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNuADEknpGW
Since when did an accident scar look like a bullet?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNo4ECAiMoz
Since when did an accident scar look like metal lodged beneath the skin?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxxa1Rtm0hq
The man seemed uncomfortable. He looked left and right, as if making sure no one had heard their conversation.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ46kY3Tomgq
"You should get to class, son. Your next exam will start soon, right?"
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGZ7FhCOrKj
"Yes, sir. The Social Studies exam."
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtf4dz6WPvJ
"Well, go on then. Don't be late."
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRsvXPqqHuf
The man patted Voltase's shoulder with an awkward motion, like someone not used to physical contact.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡapfcFi2GDC
"And next time, look ahead when you walk. Your phone can wait."
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡanUESLPkVm
With that, the man turned and walked away.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFns64Peerm
His steps were slightly hurried, as if he wanted to get away from Voltase as quickly as possible.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcelzkwzyL4
Voltase stood there.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9Vg2gfYSXD
Staring at the man's retreating back.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4tOJBhdDEs
He lied.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnmTVfG9JTc
That's not an accident scar.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXOBF1lI4e7
That's a bullet.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFLNNbKzG6X
I know it's a bullet.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdzw26znc2K
I just saw a bullet just like that in my dream.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvPOJI1tfUb
New questions began to crowd his head.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1FkAeY4Z55
Who is he? Where did he come from? How could he have a bullet in his arm?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSvX0kmG0st
And more importantly...
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbx507jLWZQ
Why did I dream about the exact same bullet last night?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRQyroQooss
Voltase bit his lower lip, tasting a hint of metal on his tongue.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWVnzfCsYYl
Something is happening here.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwdS8HkmVHM
Something is wrong.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡy8rljAuzJN
And I have to find out what it is.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeRRJCgldrQ
He looked down at his cracked phone.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1odrLj27Lq
The screen was still on, displaying his last search results: images of bullets of various calibers and sizes.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9KR09Z4QTt
With slightly trembling fingers, Voltase began typing a new keyword.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGQgrwecSnE
"Bullet in arm."
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡstNLADUbJ7
Search results appeared. Most were medical articles about projectiles remaining in shooting victims' bodies.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1LTwY7uFgG
Some discussed removal surgery. Others about infection risks. Others about long term effects.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡybJTzqFIug
Voltase read them all quickly, his eyes scanning every word with razor-sharp focus.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXvdho38cRM
Then, he found something.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6TRHVirBEl
An image.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCJBGJdumqV
A bullet with specific dimensions: 9x19 mm.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzb8Nj14biw
Voltase stopped his finger. His heart beat faster.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl1bkqkZH6P
This is it.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUokft6TsFf
The shape is exactly what I saw on that teacher's arm.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz63kImoB3z
The size is the same. Everything is the same.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTbumg74Qu7
He compared the image on the screen with his memory of the bulge.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡulmyWl1tzL
No doubt. No difference.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkeCC1qKwsi
This is the same bullet.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0SMLstt8y3
He closed his phone quickly, slipping it back into his pocket.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY1Vgm3Y7Pg
In the distance, a bell rang. Break was over. The next exam would begin soon.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPMlN79PQ6y
Voltase walked toward his classroom with quicker steps than usual.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡppYUONeyju
His mind swirled like a whirlpool, trying to connect seemingly unrelated dots.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡws1INk3eBb
Dreams about war.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSLcqiWBh5U
Dreams about death.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ739JPqDL5M
A bullet in a teacher's arm.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgZlfmWUpRq
I dreamed about the exact same bullet.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ527LHfOvpS
This can't be coincidence.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQZ0c16Esyf
But how?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMZnvmpiCK6
How does my dream connect to a teacher I've never even seen before?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcxAdLucGNU
Or... have I seen him before?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2jTySoNRxI
The question stopped him for a moment.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9QCLSHe5pj
He tried to remember. Had he ever met that man before? Perhaps in the school hallway? In the cafeteria? In the library?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWkGiVaWakl
No. His face wasn't familiar. He was sure he'd never seen that man before.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlloosti0tN
But how could I dream about the bullet in his arm before seeing him?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa1AoulVfWn
This doesn't make sense.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡE0nStjoO5d
This is impossible.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDYiqrFPABi
He entered the classroom, his head still full of questions.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhWqO7PzxRh
The room was already half full. Other students sat in their seats, speaking in hushed voices or reading last-minute notes.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3rDAkjg7gM
Voltase walked to the desk in the back corner. The same desk he always chose.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfhIzczGMf1
A place where he could observe everyone without being noticed.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6K8lo8741O
He sat down. Placed his backpack on the floor. Took out his pencil case.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNXQPDgzmPX
And on the desk, he spread out a blank sheet of paper.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmGO4HksRlV
He didn't intend to write anything on it. No.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqf7L0KsguW
All he wanted was to think. Process all the new information.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv2X0ZdfSZj
A 9x19 mm bullet.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNyHQ4kwZXX
In a teacher's arm.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM2ihAzoHyj
I dreamed about the same bullet.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF3719ltCnV
about war and death.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGEy2TdNWqL
I died in that dream not once, but twice.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9PWrG6MwEH
And every time, I felt everything.
Every pain, fear, the last second before darkness came.
Voltase closed his eyes.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxl7BV02tdB
His head felt heavy, as if an invisible weight pressed down on his skull.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmlXccdexhO
Should I tell someone?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrbnauvI3KP
But who?
Who would believe a child who claims to dream about the same bullet in a teacher's arm?
They'll think I'm crazy.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo0ZOMshU05
Or worse, they'll think it's a joke.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrrgF9EOnSp
And I don't want to be thought of as crazy.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF8dsRqilCP
Not here. In this school.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNmwbY8aZPA
Voltase opened his eyes. He stared at the white, cracked ceiling.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡehAlHMsd1H
The neon light flickered again, this time longer.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRIB0fc03cl
In front of him, exam papers began to be distributed by the supervising teacher a middle-aged woman with gray hair and half moon glasses that always slipped to the tip of her nose.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhXEGYMxSfZ
"The Social Studies exam will begin in five minutes. Please prepare your writing tools."
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdwo9KXN74P
Voltase picked up his pen. His hand moved mechanically, as usual.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQkreg7zUtF
But his mind wasn't here.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIQeB3eGvTc
Not in this classroom. Not among questions about history and geography.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRdB4PEP79P
His mind was still in the school hallway.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlHXkqTRkZJ
Still seeing the bulge on that man's arm.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLc0Q4IBIzo
Still comparing it to the image on his phone.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4IQYphEyet
9x19 mm.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw9dwSnWfEn
The same bullet.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ23YrWQpsBD
How? Why?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0pL3od54B1
And in his still-innocent heart still too young to understand the complexity of the world a seed of new fear began to grow.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkn4kxsCuQA
Not fear of exams.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡG53y13Iw5k
Not fear of angry teachers.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7AFSxfNY8V
Not even fear of the nightmare that would come tonight.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZrFlmvvBQO
But fear of something deeper. Something he couldn't name.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡojp04Et1yF
Fear that all of this the dreams, the deaths, the bullet, that man were all connected in ways he didn't understand.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuLaKmoVpbs
And that the connection might be more dangerous than anything he could imagine.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡofKSKMOPbt
The exam began.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡE7I0cznnmp
Voltase stared at the paper before him.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlRgcWd0PpQ
"Explain the causes of World War I and its impact on the European political order."
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpfR6Ytt7TK
He knew the answer. He knew history well probably better than most children his age.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcZB8mLCqGD
But his hand didn't move.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5wrnDx5BMJ
All he could think about was the war in his dreams.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzzG8r1Ew44
The battlefield full of corpses. Blood flowing on muddy ground.
The blond-haired man dying with a bullet in his head.
That war wasn't like what was taught in history books.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJkPgGtszBW
The war in his dreams felt real.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUCuOVlQV3D
Too real.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1SyhIJ85jn
He bit the end of his pen a bad habit he could never break.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQZ2uvw7pmF
Think about the exam, Voltase. Concentrate. This is important.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGsSJh8qFjV
But his mind refused to cooperate.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXnnhvfKABq
What he saw behind his eyelids was a 9x19 mm bullet. The wound on that man's arm. The strange bulge hiding beneath the white shirt.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5eGzqPbsMb
What happened to him?
Was he ever shot?
Is that bullet still in his arm?
Why didn't he have surgery?
The questions kept spinning. Like a wheel that wouldn't stop.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6OxI3Yu8yi
He let out a long sigh. Tried to calm himself.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡISwcOilf4e
It's not important now. What matters is the exam. Finish this. Afterward, I can find out more.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrfqlFoXkAD
He began writing. His hand moved across the paper, forming words about military alliances, rising nationalism, and the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoKedXwlbBq
But in his heart, a small voice kept whispering.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFb7yNgVDyM
You know it's not a coincidence.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu3RwF78mIR
You know there's a connection.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxxBvBhzrTf
And you know you have to find out.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9wZCTdGT65
But how? Where to begin?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoQpbtUrdto
Thirty minutes later, Voltase finished his exam.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnrRIXFG0gj
He set his pen down calmly, staring at the paper with a flat expression. His answers were complete perhaps not perfect, but good enough.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKexe25KM4o
But he didn't feel satisfied.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK9uz6BAxIb
He felt empty.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFrEcUR9YGM
Like a part of him was missing. Left behind in the school hallway when he bumped into that man. Left behind in the dreams that kept haunting his sleep.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9eBrTjHtq2
He glanced at the wall clock.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNm8Or5R25z
There was still time left before the exam ended.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIgi8k2hCoa
Nothing to do but sit and wait.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡm5rfHO7ALw
He let his gaze drift out the window. The sky was still gray. Trees in the schoolyard swayed gently in the cold morning breeze.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKoGlWIWA1F
In the distance, he saw a group of students playing football. They ran, shouted, laughed living in a way he never had.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbFiRJTy6US
He envied them.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtitPzg7qwR
Envied how easily they enjoyed life. Envied their indifference to unimportant things.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0SRyt3OxPQ
They never wake up in the middle of the night feeling like they're being strangled.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7pJSFrwCPz
Never feel a bullet enter their chest.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdI2EzEWoc7
Never see corpses scattered around them.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz7a8bPZmEE
They don't know how lucky they are.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCCLxAJAPbe
Voltase closed his eyes for a moment, trying to rest his weary mind.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvwMvvbTNvK
But rest didn't come.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡahuqVUyt8b
What came was the memory of the dream.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTeaAZZ642N
His final moments. The pain spreading from his neck throughout his body. The darkness slowly creeping in, swallowing his consciousness.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLQpMAapkju
Bang.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBUd2SpZPk4
He opened his eyes suddenly, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYhP2fdncje
No. Don't think about that.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡohJbbSo4YC
Now is not the time.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡomJ6LTLSmx
You have to focus.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb29mOyqE5H
But his mind wouldn't listen.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡquC1Zn9JvL
And in the darkness, the whisper began again.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYGHXQ0y9Qr
You'll go back. Tonight.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2pDh51Mqd5
You'll go back to that place.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsB6ydvqn4k
And you'll die again.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsCNpH2XYDE
The bell rang.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQejld1O61q
The exam was over.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd5tLrBtHSS
Other students began collecting their papers with rustling sounds and quiet conversations. Some looked relieved, others anxious.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnL0ZptzGdy
Voltase remained seated. Not moving.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt4e2bEor3h
The supervising teacher walked past his desk.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBeJ70YQYWx
"Are you finished, Watt?"
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuFpWMSgPSO
"Yes, ma'am."
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgfbqFnqeJC
He handed over his paper slowly.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOUqyMVJdJU
The teacher nodded and walked to the next desk.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzFeIxTToGK
Voltase let his gaze go blank for a moment. Then, he stood up.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHXFS5tXfeL
He picked up his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and walked out of the classroom.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXZWCc5ZP8e
The hallway was already crowded.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJhFIkAqGBf
Students scattered everywhere, talking loudly about the exam. Some laughed, some complained, some walked silently while staring at their phones.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBDe2kPG5cM
Voltase walked past them all, paying attention to no one.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVif6v6HQyM
All he could think about was one thing.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD3FZRxMpEz
I have to find out who that man is.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXgqJu2KJ1H
Find out what happened to him.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4vQrg8kpRF
Find out why I dreamed about the bullet in his arm.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY8Ur2sQadX
And I have to do it before night falls.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA6Y377Ep07
He stopped in front of the bulletin board at the end of the hallway.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQAB0tlCMhc
There, hanging, was a list of teachers and school staff. Their photos were neatly displayed in plastic frames, with names and positions beneath.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWFoW2dylPw
Voltase scanned the list with his eyes.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqmqGE9aGaq
Searching for the face he'd just met.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6X0wETePNZ
Mr. Anderson—Mathematics.
Mrs. Bennett—English.
Mr. Clarke—History.
Mrs. Davis—Art.
Mr. Evans—Science.
Nothing.
No face of a man with light brown hair and hazel green eyes.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZudxIBahbF
No name matching his description.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAH7U95m3Ku
Maybe he's a new teacher?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwwXyxJzLK4
Maybe his photo hasn't been put up yet?
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdAzmHWosjS
Or maybe...
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡApHYyPdzF5
The thought made his skin crawl.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5fYyZGffl6
Maybe he's not a teacher.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh0TAfF8sTc
Maybe he's someone else.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡERILJXMiER
Maybe he—
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKrbjXPmirg
He shook his head, trying to banish those thoughts.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDvaOaDqqaP
Don't be too paranoid, Voltase.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu0UJtefAwk
Maybe his photo just hasn't been put up yet. Or he's a substitute teacher. That's a reasonable explanation.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoSE6xtgf10
But even as he thought that, a part of him didn't believe it.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ33LKMRyYNe
Nothing made sense anymore. Not since he started dreaming about war. Not since he felt a bullet enter his chest.
Not since he saw that man.
He walked to the school library.
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The room was silent, as usual. Only a few students sat at the long tables, reading or working on assignments.
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The librarian an old woman with white hair and thick glasses sat behind the front desk, reading a novel.
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Voltase walked between the bookshelves. Searching for something anything that could help him understand.
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He stopped in the psychology section.
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Books about dreams. About the subconscious. About trauma and memory.
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He took a thick book titled "The Psychology of Dreams: A Clinical Approach."
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He opened it to the first page and began reading.
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"Dreams are a universal phenomenon that have fascinated humans since ancient times..."
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He read further, looking for sections about recurring dreams. About dreams that felt real. About dreams involving death.
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"Recurring dreams are often associated with unresolved traumatic experiences. The brain attempts to process the trauma through dreams, but because the trauma is too heavy to process all at once, the brain repeats it over and over..."
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Voltase frowned.
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I don't have trauma. Nothing happened to me. My life is ordinary. Boring, even.
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Then why do I keep dreaming about war?
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He read further.
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"Some researchers argue that highly realistic dreams could be manifestations of genetic memory. memories inherited from our ancestors through DNA. This theory is controversial and not scientifically proven, but interesting to consider..."
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Genetic memory?
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Could I have inherited memories of war from someone in the past? From my grandfather? Or my great-grandfather?
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But my family was never involved in war. At least, not that I know of.
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He closed the book in frustration. No satisfying answers. Only unprovable theories.
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He put it back on the shelf, then walked to another section.
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This time, he stopped in the medicine section.
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"Projectiles and Gunshot Trauma: Medical and Psychological Management"
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He pulled the book from the shelf, opening it to the page about bullet types.
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Detailed images of various calibers. Descriptions of size, weight, and effects on the human body.
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Voltase scanned the pages quickly, looking for something that matched what he'd seen.
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And then, he found it.
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"9x19 mm Parabellum. also known as 9mm Luger. One of the most common bullet calibers in the world. Widely used by military and police forces. This projectile has a diameter of 9 mm and a casing length of 19 mm..."
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This is it.
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This is exactly what I saw.
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I'm sure of it.
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He read further about its effects.
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"The 9x19 mm bullet has significant penetrating power. At close range, it can penetrate bone and cause severe tissue damage. Bullets that lodge in the body without hitting vital organs are often left in place because removal surgery can pose greater risks than benefits..."
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So the bullet might have been deliberately left in his arm.
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Because removing it was too dangerous.
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But how did he get shot?
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The questions continued spinning. Without answers.
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Voltase returned to his dormitory at 3 PM.
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His room felt quiet and cold, as usual. The window curtains were tightly drawn, leaving only a small gap for gray light to seep in.
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He took off his shoes. Placed his backpack beside the wardrobe. Sat on the edge of his bed.
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The room felt smaller than usual. More cramped. More suffocating.
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He stared at his cracked phone, still displaying his last search results.
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9x19 mm.
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The same bullet.
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On that man's arm.
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In my dream.
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He gripped his phone tightly, feeling the cold plastic and glass in his palm.
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Something is happening.
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Something is wrong.
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And I have to find out.
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Before night falls.
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Before I go back to that dream.
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Before I die again.
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Outside the window, the sky began to darken.
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Gray clouds moved slowly, covering the remnants of sunlight trying to break through.
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Rain would fall again tonight.
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Voltase could feel it in the air. The rising humidity. The scent of damp earth beginning to seep in.
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He lay on his bed, staring at the cracked ceiling.
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In his head, one question kept repeating.
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Who is that man?
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And what does he have to do with my dreams?
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He had no answers.
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All he had was a bad feeling. A feeling that everything was about to change. A feeling that his ordinary, boring life was about to end.
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And a feeling that tonight, he would return to that battlefield.
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For the third time.
ns216.73.217.98da2 
and then Add to home screen.