THE FIRE THAT SHOULD HAVE HAPPENED
849 Words
THE BOY WHO REMEMBERED TOMORROW
Episode 3: The Fire That Should Have Happened
The explosion ripped through the factory like the roar of a monster awakening.
A wall of heat slammed into Ethan, forcing him to shield his face with his tiny arms. Thick black smoke poured into the sky while workers stumbled through the gates, coughing and screaming.
Some were burned.
Some were bleeding.
Others called the names of friends who had not escaped.
Ethan's heart pounded.
His father was still inside.
"Dad!"
His small voice disappeared beneath the chaos.
He pushed through the crowd, ignoring the adults trying to hold him back.
"Kid! Stay away!"
"The building could collapse!"
But Ethan wasn't listening.
He knew the layout of the factory.
Not because he had been there before.
Because in his previous life, his father had told the story so many times that Ethan could picture every hallway, every machine, every emergency exit.
If his memory was correct, his father would be trapped near the old assembly room.
He had only minutes.
Then the roof would collapse.
As Ethan slipped through a broken side entrance, the smoke thickened until he could barely breathe.
The building groaned.
Metal beams twisted overhead.
Flames climbed the walls like living creatures.
The air was so hot that his eyes filled with tears.
He covered his mouth with his shirt and continued forward.
A loud crash echoed behind him.
Part of the ceiling collapsed, blocking the exit.
He was trapped.
For the first time since his reincarnation, fear overwhelmed him.
Not the fear of dying.
The fear of dying again.
He forced himself forward.
Through the smoke he heard coughing.
"Dad!"
A weak voice answered.
"E... Ethan?"
His father lay beneath a fallen steel beam, one leg pinned to the ground.
His face was covered in soot.
Blood trickled from a cut above his eye.
"What are you doing here?" he shouted.
"You have to leave!"
Ethan threw himself against the beam.
It didn't move.
Again.
Nothing.
He was only six years old.
His body was too small.
Too weak.
Tears streamed down his face.
He remembered being an adult.
Strong enough to lift heavy boxes.
Strong enough to help.
Now he could do nothing.
The factory trembled.
Another explosion.
The roof began to crack.
Dust rained down.
His father smiled sadly.
"Listen to me."
"You have your whole life ahead of you."
"Run."
Ethan shook his head.
"No."
"I already lost you once."
His father frowned.
"What did you say?"
Before Ethan could answer, footsteps echoed through the smoke.
Slow.
Calm.
Unhurried.
A figure emerged from the flames.
The mysterious boy dressed in black.
His clothes were untouched by the fire.
Not a single strand of hair had burned.
He looked around as if he were taking a casual walk through a park.
Finally, his eyes settled on Ethan.
"You changed the timeline."
Ethan glared at him.
"Help us!"
The boy ignored the plea.
Instead, he knelt beside the trapped man.
"The first fracture has begun."
"What are you talking about?" Ethan shouted.
The stranger placed one hand on the steel beam.
The metal dissolved into fine gray dust.
As if centuries had passed in an instant.
Ethan stared in disbelief.
His father crawled free.
The boy stood.
"The future has noticed you."
"What future?"
"The one you abandoned when you died."
The building shook violently.
"This place is collapsing!" Ethan cried.
The boy nodded.
"Then leave."
"What about you?"
"I've survived worse."
He turned and walked deeper into the fire.
Within seconds the smoke swallowed him completely.
Ethan helped his father toward the exit.
Workers outside rushed to carry the injured man to safety.
The moment they crossed the gate, the entire roof collapsed with a thunderous crash.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
A miracle.
Everyone called it a miracle.
But Ethan knew better.
Miracles did not turn steel into dust.
Miracles did not walk through flames.
Across the street, emergency vehicles arrived one after another.
Among the crowd stood an elderly man wearing a dark suit.
Unlike everyone else, he wasn't watching the burning factory.
He was watching Ethan.
The old man slowly removed a silver pocket watch from his coat.
The hands on the watch spun backward.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Time itself seemed to hesitate.
The old man smiled.
"So..."
"The Seventh Soul has finally awakened."
He closed the watch.
And vanished.
Not by walking away.
Not by hiding.
He simply ceased to exist.
As if he had never been there.
That night, Ethan found a single envelope lying on his bedroom floor.
There was no stamp.
No address.
Only his name written in black ink.
Inside was one sheet of paper.
Five words.
DO NOT CHANGE HISTORY AGAIN.
At the bottom of the page was a symbol.
A circle crossed by seven lines.
He had never seen it before.
Yet somehow...
It felt familiar.
Outside his window, thunder rolled across the sky once more.
And somewhere beyond the darkness, unseen eyes were already deciding whether Ethan deserved a second chance—or whether he should have stayed dead.
- Writer
