Life Hunter Chapter 2: The Bridge Between
767 Words
Two years had passed since that day in the hospital crib.
Kaijen was two years old now.
His body was small, with chubby cheeks and tiny hands that could barely hold things properly. He had learned to walk—wobbly steps at first, then steadier. He could say a few words, but he rarely did.
Kaijen spoke very little.
His mother would try to make him talk, showing him toys, singing songs. But he would just stare with those deep eyes, as if he understood everything but saw no need to speak.
His hair had changed.
It was no longer ordinary black. Strands of sky blue had appeared, growing brighter over the months. By his second birthday, his hair was a striking sky blue—soft, shimmering in the light like the clear mountain sky over Akihara.
His parents were worried at first. Doctors in the nearby city said it was some rare genetic condition, nothing dangerous. His older sister teased him, calling him "little blue bird."
But Kaijen knew the truth.
It was the power.
The elements flowing through him, marking him.
Time and all 118 elements—they were awakening slowly, syncing with his growing body.
He remembered everything from his first life. The knife. The surge of power. The desperate rewind that sent him too far back. Those early years as a helpless baby, his adult mind trapped in a useless body. It had been torture—watching the world move while he could only cry.
But he had endured. He had waited.
And he had practiced in secret.
Small things no one could notice. Making a toy shake slightly without touching it. Slowing the fall of a dropped object for a moment. Feeling the elements in everything—the oxygen in the air, the carbon in wood, the iron in blood.
The power was stronger now.
But he had learned control. Patience.
One quiet afternoon, when Kaijen was exactly two years old, something happened.
His mother had put him down for a nap in his small room. The shoji screens were open, letting in the soft mountain breeze. The cedar trees outside swayed gently.
Kaijen lay in his crib, eyes open, staring at the ceiling.
Then the air changed.
The light in the room dimmed, as if clouds had covered the sun. But outside, the sky was clear.
A presence filled the room—warm, vast, ancient.
Kaijen's tiny heart beat faster, but he felt no fear.
A figure appeared at the foot of his crib.
It was not human, yet it felt like everything.
Tall, glowing with soft golden light. No clear face—just shifting light and shadow. Wings of pure energy folded behind it. Neither male nor female, neither young nor old.
It was God.
The one God.
The creator of heaven, hell, earth, and time itself.
Kaijen's infant eyes widened. He couldn't speak properly, but his mind was clear.
The God looked down at him, and a voice echoed—not in his ears, but in his soul. Gentle, but infinite.
"Kaijen."
The child remained silent.
"You are the bridge."
The God raised a hand, and visions flashed in Kaijen's mind.
Heaven—endless light, peace, joy.
Hell—darkness, pain, chaos.
And between them, a thin line. Balance.
"You stand in the middle. The distance between heaven and hell."
Kaijen saw worlds colliding, elements raging, time fracturing.
"You have my gift. Time bends to you. The elements obey you. Because you must maintain the balance."
"Why?" Kaijen's mind asked, his mouth making only a soft sound.
"The worlds are shifting. Forces from both sides seek to cross. You are the one born to stand between."
The God touched Kaijen's forehead gently. Warm energy flowed in—strengthening the power inside.
"You will grow. You will learn. You will hunt the threats that would destroy the balance."
"Remember: you are not of heaven. Not of hell. You are the Lifehunter."
The light faded.
The room returned to normal.
Kaijen lay there, his sky blue hair glowing faintly for a moment.
His tiny hands clenched into fists.
He understood.
He wasn't reborn just for a second chance at life.
He was reborn for a purpose.
To hunt.
To protect the fragile line between light and dark.
His mother came in later, smiling.
"My quiet little boy. Always lost in thought."
Kaijen looked at her and, for the first time in this life, spoke clearly.
"Mama."
She laughed, surprised. "Yes, my Kaijen!"
But inside, the two-year-old thought:
This time, everything will be different.
I am the bridge.
I am the Lifehunter.
- Writer
