by Soulvelt
Most people change slowly. They forget who they were, piece by piece, and call it living. Aurel noticed it happening. By the time he understood what was slipping, it was already changing him. A man walks out of a battlefield that killed everyone else. No one knows how. Including him. The world he lands in behaves too correctly. Outcomes feel shaped rather than lived. And Aurel does not fit — not cleanly, not completely. Something has noticed. Something that does not hate him but cannot allow him to remain as he is. Because reality does not tolerate inconsistencies. And Aurel is becoming one.
