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When the man awoke from his recurring dream, daylight had already broken through. He had only lived five years of a life he was destined to endure for a lifetime.
His strength lay in never collapsing, never falling—a resolve that was guiding him through a life without direction, his only mission being to remain unbroken. He wandered endlessly, unsure if he was escaping or progressing, unable to settle down.
A seeker of the unattainable, an eternal wanderer… This was the role bestowed upon the fourth Apostle, the keeper of the last holy relic.
Everything around him was fading, yet the embers within him still glowed. They could flare up at any moment before finally burning out. With the most perilous yet critical object in the world in his possession, he moved aimlessly, careful not to reveal its presence, pausing only occasionally to rest.
The man quietly gazed up at the sky, straining to hear the faintest echoes amidst countless hallucinations, as if trying to catch the whispers of the world.
How much time had slipped by?
“Hey, mister!”
He watched as a girl, always lively and mischievous yet unmistakably kind, ran toward him.
How many days had he spent in this nameless village? He couldn’t quite remember, but he knew it was time to leave this place. The place where a cute, lovely, and spirited girl had become a part of his days.
“Today, I brought sausages too,” she announced with a bright smile, holding up a hot dog as if it were a special treat.
The man shook his head gently. “Sandy.”
“… Yes?”
It was the first time he had spoken her name since arriving in the village.
The man, who had seemed on the brink of death, suddenly appeared revitalized. His eyes regained focus, and with surprising ease, he stood up.
Sandy, who had only ever seen him sitting, was taken aback by his height....
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