UNIVERSE 600 OF THE MULTIVERSE OF HARMONY
!!!NOTE: THIS IS THE FINAL BOOK OF THE SCARLET SAGA, READ TSH1, TSHATBK, THEN TSH2 IN THAT ORDER BEFORE YOU READ THIS. I'M WARNING YOU IT'S YOUR MISTAKE IF YOU READ THIS BOOK BLINDLY!!!
Five years have passe...
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!!!WARNING!!!
THIS CHAPTER MAY BE DISTURBING AND TRIGGERING, AS IT DEALS WITH MATURE ISSUES SUCH AS CHILD KIDNAPPING, TORTURING, GORE, AND RAPE. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THESE, YOU MAY SKIP SCENES CONTAINING SAID ISSUES.
Seto's P.O.V (This might be my first attempt in making a P.O.V)
Cries.
Warmth.
Warm touches.
Voices.
They were the first things that greeted me the moment I was born into this world whose disgusting little truth I hadn't known of, they were the first signs that let me know that at that very moment, I was alive, and I would live. And just like all babies were, or at least supposedly, at the moment just after their birth, I wasn't thinking about the world, no, all I ever thought about was me. Who am I? Why am I born into this world? What is my purpose?
But of course, all I could ever do was cry and cry ceaselessly like all babies do, to show whomever was holding me in their arms the first sign of an infant's well-being.
With my willpower I barely managed to open my eyes only to a small degree, and with that accomplishment I succeeded in picturing several silhouettes watching over me as they seemed to cheer in my arrival like a group of worshippers welcoming the coming of a revered deity or some sort. I did not know what I was supposed to feel, I was barely even here for an hour already, so I continued weeping until I felt myself being handed to someone else, someone whose arms I was held in felt a thousand times warmer. As she spoke the voice I now could only imagine myself hearing whenever I am in desperate need of a little inducement, I felt one thing until now I still so long for in this horrid world--calm.
"It's a girl...."
Those were the words that greeted my seemingly ceremonial presence after a long time of hearing only grunts and loud calls inaudible to my ears still adjusting to this new world I was birthed in. The voice was soft, it was tender, calming me from my uncontrollable cries like a lullaby played by a mother to lull her child to sleep. At the same time such voice soothed my infant ears, the arms I was held in blanketed me with warmth while I could feel other eyes staring at me like an audience watching the spotlight on stage showing why it was the spotlight.
The person whose voice I still yearn for leaned her soft warm cheek against mine, giving me the first ever sign of what I could only identify as.....love. At that moment my wails ceased to continue and I subconsciously drifted to silence to listen to more of the voice as I silently reached out for that warmth again, just a little more.
"Hyera.......eomma's little angel, Son Hyera." the voice spoke to me of the name I have long abandoned, the very name who is now just a word I consider as a form of my identity instead of the person I am.
