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.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRRUD6PX4xh
For a while, he just stared at Voltase with an unreadable gaze. A gaze that made Voltase feel like he was being interrogated.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqjipnkRt48
Then, the man sighed. His face softened again, but his smile still felt stiff.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwMX7qoNdqq
"It's not a wound, kid. It's just... an old accident scar. Nothing to worry about."
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlpHRLMwHgu
He pulled his sleeve, covering the bulge completely.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ60chHak8H4
"And no, it doesn't hurt. It healed a long time ago."
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQFz6dfT3mT
Voltase nodded.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeSyeNi6xzK
But in his heart, he didn't believe him.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVaaujEnlwY
An old accident scar?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPHXYgwbPh4
Since when did an accident scar look like a bullet?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOEyfThPaGY
Since when did an accident scar look like metal lodged beneath the skin?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDC5AsVnhTN
The man seemed uncomfortable. He looked left and right, as if making sure no one had heard their conversation.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1GgxVV7pNN
"You should get to class, son. Your next exam will start soon, right?"
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgNyqvVTvcn
"Yes, sir. The Social Studies exam."
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJRGPOFYNJF
"Well, go on then. Don't be late."
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjK8kVHgPpt
The man patted Voltase's shoulder with an awkward motion, like someone not used to physical contact.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8S3mKniUXS
"And next time, look ahead when you walk. Your phone can wait."
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiv1Jk6eUS7
With that, the man turned and walked away.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡas4lKQDmtv
His steps were slightly hurried, as if he wanted to get away from Voltase as quickly as possible.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXIAahv4yXF
Voltase stood there.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdDSivIX3rw
Staring at the man's retreating back.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOT2QY3eddb
He lied.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcJhXwq6ev2
That's not an accident scar.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ8yqgRagLQ
That's a bullet.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcKvfjhLpvE
I know it's a bullet.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT1KC07iPrg
I just saw a bullet just like that in my dream.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0fNZ46NNYj
New questions began to crowd his head.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWgYWejeiPs
Who is he? Where did he come from? How could he have a bullet in his arm?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZ8Qqtcf388
And more importantly...
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnAmZgXtkUx
Why did I dream about the exact same bullet last night?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmHOvjHdttz
Voltase bit his lower lip, tasting a hint of metal on his tongue.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7mACAbA0nC
Something is happening here.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGoW8j2I8gN
Something is wrong.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLoCDGYDBOu
And I have to find out what it is.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnKSVFLlVuK
He looked down at his cracked phone.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBgrdzYs1zk
The screen was still on, displaying his last search results: images of bullets of various calibers and sizes.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVmBSpHWS5H
With slightly trembling fingers, Voltase began typing a new keyword.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVuPmeE3FFy
"Bullet in arm."
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjhDlpbyllt
Search results appeared. Most were medical articles about projectiles remaining in shooting victims' bodies.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtW5JZMDLD7
Some discussed removal surgery. Others about infection risks. Others about long term effects.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGuLA5E9EVb
Voltase read them all quickly, his eyes scanning every word with razor-sharp focus.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVSDVWXt1Fy
Then, he found something.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡptD6MCQij4
An image.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU58O8JOFEi
A bullet with specific dimensions: 9x19 mm.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq8zlwiX7ai
Voltase stopped his finger. His heart beat faster.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqQHOiZti5C
This is it.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC6ILbNE01L
The shape is exactly what I saw on that teacher's arm.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2mK1BC21jy
The size is the same. Everything is the same.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡexZe9c2s8o
He compared the image on the screen with his memory of the bulge.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCKGIMezDqq
No doubt. No difference.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCGhSzmXc4e
This is the same bullet.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNk1bXp2IOm
He closed his phone quickly, slipping it back into his pocket.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoIL6p2zKsE
In the distance, a bell rang. Break was over. The next exam would begin soon.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡonca0AifO9
Voltase walked toward his classroom with quicker steps than usual.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCdme6OitNK
His mind swirled like a whirlpool, trying to connect seemingly unrelated dots.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDhHR1WYpG9
Dreams about war.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcXzpI32wFr
Dreams about death.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeuZWZA7o8S
A bullet in a teacher's arm.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu1m5Iy2FVq
I dreamed about the exact same bullet.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvVmopep1Wg
This can't be coincidence.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZFjlRnSkoD
But how?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmo9vjW4QgP
How does my dream connect to a teacher I've never even seen before?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9ZFH5J7xaP
Or... have I seen him before?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9EJ06oNdVy
The question stopped him for a moment.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQFtJAh1YGL
He tried to remember. Had he ever met that man before? Perhaps in the school hallway? In the cafeteria? In the library?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMlKpIimWsl
No. His face wasn't familiar. He was sure he'd never seen that man before.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAC6qHkR0F5
But how could I dream about the bullet in his arm before seeing him?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEKNDcBUj5g
This doesn't make sense.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg1Xfvns7Qx
This is impossible.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9Pi8EjBedW
He entered the classroom, his head still full of questions.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRfUWp2Vst7
The room was already half full. Other students sat in their seats, speaking in hushed voices or reading last-minute notes.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvUJiuKjRUj
Voltase walked to the desk in the back corner. The same desk he always chose.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOrI3zNmxcl
A place where he could observe everyone without being noticed.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVzvCKJaP9u
He sat down. Placed his backpack on the floor. Took out his pencil case.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnYibrbYf0Q
And on the desk, he spread out a blank sheet of paper.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLGM7y7eG95
He didn't intend to write anything on it. No.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYL2X68Myp5
All he wanted was to think. Process all the new information.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5h5cAfvQ3I
A 9x19 mm bullet.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ23Cneois5w
In a teacher's arm.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqgiKbGaOCq
I dreamed about the same bullet.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5nurVKb9hV
about war and death.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoBjRGG9Mo5
I died in that dream not once, but twice.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1WWmtWTu8B
And every time, I felt everything.
Every pain, fear, the last second before darkness came.
Voltase closed his eyes.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6Lzi7cMKtC
His head felt heavy, as if an invisible weight pressed down on his skull.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1kw5NI3GKL
Should I tell someone?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhrrR0AQceH
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.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbrt3memeBo
Or worse, they'll think it's a joke.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUkuUGSGQ5e
And I don't want to be thought of as crazy.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbGnpao7EFA
Not here. In this school.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqQZHufuLA1
Voltase opened his eyes. He stared at the white, cracked ceiling.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1ofXHlwHCb
The neon light flickered again, this time longer.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDWVQkrWLFa
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.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqlIOIDo5H7
"The Social Studies exam will begin in five minutes. Please prepare your writing tools."
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4W2j0SEWU0
Voltase picked up his pen. His hand moved mechanically, as usual.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡThY5xupPSr
But his mind wasn't here.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ49bxfczKcS
Not in this classroom. Not among questions about history and geography.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIcHniRRpsk
His mind was still in the school hallway.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8YayxLvWgD
Still seeing the bulge on that man's arm.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ77aDSdictZ
Still comparing it to the image on his phone.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiA18z9mJ8d
9x19 mm.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaGXASAHgtf
The same bullet.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhjQTnW4Jyn
How? Why?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4d7pEmhR2T
And in his still-innocent heart still too young to understand the complexity of the world a seed of new fear began to grow.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsOPmNWbuLj
Not fear of exams.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqArbZdueHo
Not fear of angry teachers.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiFIj5DPONB
Not even fear of the nightmare that would come tonight.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡELXCQI9zon
But fear of something deeper. Something he couldn't name.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBkaW1GcKvZ
Fear that all of this the dreams, the deaths, the bullet, that man were all connected in ways he didn't understand.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCmOnKj4tKI
And that the connection might be more dangerous than anything he could imagine.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvNUOS2ll59
The exam began.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx91aJEy2Zn
Voltase stared at the paper before him.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCzUXIlcgjo
"Explain the causes of World War I and its impact on the European political order."
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9tMKRTLQVI
He knew the answer. He knew history well probably better than most children his age.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyfWy69HNLA
But his hand didn't move.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaQd6GcjonS
All he could think about was the war in his dreams.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1FMKjniRCY
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.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS5qbApYmVD
The war in his dreams felt real.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw5P6A2B7HV
Too real.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoatn0Bjx3E
He bit the end of his pen a bad habit he could never break.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR5DbspLi5A
Think about the exam, Voltase. Concentrate. This is important.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqlHpkLrK8H
But his mind refused to cooperate.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNmDCruZaoh
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.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiBY7bNreLo
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.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeCNUjWl5RW
He let out a long sigh. Tried to calm himself.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIoEVG6IKNK
It's not important now. What matters is the exam. Finish this. Afterward, I can find out more.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnC0J95i9Un
He began writing. His hand moved across the paper, forming words about military alliances, rising nationalism, and the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ122lnqArmr
But in his heart, a small voice kept whispering.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWaFVpM5Nsq
You know it's not a coincidence.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4GzvoL3P3u
You know there's a connection.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeITPFCQdHE
And you know you have to find out.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL5XNZH52rO
But how? Where to begin?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAl6CKikDny
Thirty minutes later, Voltase finished his exam.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9SQEhSLO22
He set his pen down calmly, staring at the paper with a flat expression. His answers were complete perhaps not perfect, but good enough.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK1wmh50cyH
But he didn't feel satisfied.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAUSY5aFgGD
He felt empty.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMMKE5y14wQ
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.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ1anFDIyLq
He glanced at the wall clock.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL3PjpM7soL
There was still time left before the exam ended.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡofIeXIHsOz
Nothing to do but sit and wait.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDaAWnVH9c8
He let his gaze drift out the window. The sky was still gray. Trees in the schoolyard swayed gently in the cold morning breeze.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOLDFRgfh4G
In the distance, he saw a group of students playing football. They ran, shouted, laughed living in a way he never had.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzdWmYu1LDt
He envied them.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY4BaGpbtn0
Envied how easily they enjoyed life. Envied their indifference to unimportant things.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxbCCvrEzo1
They never wake up in the middle of the night feeling like they're being strangled.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa8uKpshLke
Never feel a bullet enter their chest.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXpL34LF17e
Never see corpses scattered around them.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVttQ8hiWxx
They don't know how lucky they are.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ99lFEHcKFz
Voltase closed his eyes for a moment, trying to rest his weary mind.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyO14nvTTEW
But rest didn't come.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuDS1kZTXRS
What came was the memory of the dream.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoEa6MUMMqV
His final moments. The pain spreading from his neck throughout his body. The darkness slowly creeping in, swallowing his consciousness.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmAXZgFVlXZ
Bang.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxP9tqpKLDF
He opened his eyes suddenly, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡorHsaRtIFE
No. Don't think about that.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0M05TOtwHE
Now is not the time.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSUpj4OfHG2
You have to focus.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSQnCmkIcXU
But his mind wouldn't listen.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpRNUcZEVde
And in the darkness, the whisper began again.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4IbgRdnk2e
You'll go back. Tonight.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3t8skpD5mX
You'll go back to that place.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOdIctXRPgx
And you'll die again.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGKOswqqrrX
The bell rang.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHcMO8ggSRq
The exam was over.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb7eLV4lrJm
Other students began collecting their papers with rustling sounds and quiet conversations. Some looked relieved, others anxious.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe5mGmmC8x7
Voltase remained seated. Not moving.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzGVn8OAsNV
The supervising teacher walked past his desk.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡteSMMaNobA
"Are you finished, Watt?"
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuz8ceXOc7Y
"Yes, ma'am."
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTRkUMSeVRT
He handed over his paper slowly.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuv25poSPLX
The teacher nodded and walked to the next desk.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlhR6cyJWZR
Voltase let his gaze go blank for a moment. Then, he stood up.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡADM5A5TxEn
He picked up his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and walked out of the classroom.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiGouof9XtT
The hallway was already crowded.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDyE8vimucF
Students scattered everywhere, talking loudly about the exam. Some laughed, some complained, some walked silently while staring at their phones.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuBS5ZbKmp5
Voltase walked past them all, paying attention to no one.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGb09uOHOL0
All he could think about was one thing.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTX53CbOnht
I have to find out who that man is.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjPYVLw6PJl
Find out what happened to him.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeqmD9J5ANM
Find out why I dreamed about the bullet in his arm.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq8Yqoy8zsG
And I have to do it before night falls.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb5PhkX29Ay
He stopped in front of the bulletin board at the end of the hallway.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1YKudMdsTe
There, hanging, was a list of teachers and school staff. Their photos were neatly displayed in plastic frames, with names and positions beneath.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt5rl9mHHPk
Voltase scanned the list with his eyes.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr2fSkY6Yns
Searching for the face he'd just met.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL5IPBRfe9e
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.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdhDGYWNtjh
No name matching his description.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHE3RY0x2p6
Maybe he's a new teacher?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqHFryOcBxD
Maybe his photo hasn't been put up yet?
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZdKLiYcYEr
Or maybe...
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYrWMjnuVsZ
The thought made his skin crawl.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAeyEJKTfhc
Maybe he's not a teacher.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrtewVnD4BU
Maybe he's someone else.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLh1LDLaBSV
Maybe he—
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7VKnkJUgC0
He shook his head, trying to banish those thoughts.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYZ2ALAtfov
Don't be too paranoid, Voltase.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4x8mPptFuK
Maybe his photo just hasn't been put up yet. Or he's a substitute teacher. That's a reasonable explanation.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeC1DX8SmGt
But even as he thought that, a part of him didn't believe it.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡism5JfL7ow
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.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbOdEECd2F4
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.
ns216.73.216.243da2 
and then Add to home screen.