Start Again: A Prologue Novels & Stories

Day three. The first workday under the new rules. By seven-thirty that morning, the department was already a mess when I walked in. "Dr. Altman, the OR called. Anesthesia's ready for the first case, but the attending surgeon still isn't here." "Who's the attending?" "Dr. Lowe." I checked the wall clock. 7:35. The surgical board listed a 7:40 start. "Where is he?" The nurse lowered her voice. "In his office. Says his back hurts too much to operate today."

Ailduin points to the one I’ve been reading, “is the second.” Buppig looks thoughtful for a second before turning the page back one. “Read the first one, Princess. We call this one, 'The Rise of the Giants.'” “Call me Lily, Buppig.” I say distractedly. I look down and begin reading the first prophecy out loud. When those that have become more earth and animal Begin to rise again It will announce the beginning of the end And the peace within the land will wane. She will call to them and they will rise

>Initiate Defense Protocol: Lullaby. The game was indeed not over. It was just beginning. And I was finally ready to play.

This time, I would be happier. A week later, I walked into the event hall with Anthony. The moment I stepped inside, however, I saw Cyrus. My feet were instantly frozen to the ground, unable to move. Anthony held my arm and pulled me forward, whispering into my ear, “If you don’t cast away the shadows of your past completely, they’ll just come back to haunt you later.” I turned and met his gaze. His eyes were firm and warm, giving me strength. I took a deep breath and squeezed his arm with a smile. “Do I look good like this? Can you tell I’ve started over with a fresh slate?”

“But it won’t be easy.” “Nothing worth doing ever is,” I remarked, standing. I couldn’t sit motionless any longer. “Where do we start?” Callum exchanged a glance with Eli, then turned back to me. “You have to go back.” The words hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. “Back where?” “To the beginning,” Callum said. “To where it all started. There’s something there—something he’s been guarding tightly. It might be the key to taking him down.”

“I remember now.” He closed his eyes. The silver light beneath his skin became brighter. “I remember the beginning.” Emily dropped to her knees. “What beginning?” Elias opened his eyes. “The day I was born.” Emily swallowed. “You were born in a hospital.” “No.” He shook his head. “That was the beginning you remember.” Emily couldn't breathe. “The real beginning…” Elias looked toward the crack. “…was underneath the world.” The ground shook again. Elias stepped forward. “Mama, I wasn't born into this world.”

He faded from the city, a pathetic figure no one remembered. When the dust settled, Fabio took me to his family's old estate. We walked down a stone path, his hand warm in mine. "My mother loved crabapple blossoms," he said. "She said they stand for love that endures pain." I paused, caught off guard. He stopped, turning to me seriously. "You can tear up that agreement anytime. My promise to you wasn't just for then. It's forever." I blinked in confusion. Then he led me to the rooftop, where a telescope stood. "Remember this?"

The woman staring back at me is familiar yet transformed, her gaze steady and unflinching. "Today," I whisper to her, "we begin anew." With each step toward the door, the shadows of doubt recede, replaced by a clarity that propels me forward. This decision is not an end but a beginning, a chance to rediscover the passions that once defined me and to embrace the love that now beckons with open arms.

But this one was imperfect—tangled, lopsided, frayed in some spots. "Not perfect," Elira whispered. No," Caelan replied, "but lived." Then he pointed to one with only this written on it: Clause Zero: The Listening That Begins. And underneath, a fresh card Elira had written an hour ago: > The system does not start with design. It starts with breath. --- 9:03 PM — Outer Balcony, Rooftop Shelter The wind bore laughter and stories of late night. Individuals sat in little groups. A stringed instrument out of tune but brimming with essence was played by someone. A child recited tales his lolo shared with him under stormlight.

Ciara tried to defend herself, "Don't believe her, Joel. She's making things up to slander me." "I'm slandering you?" I retorted incredulously, taking out the complaint letter from my bag. I then stated, "This is the complaint letter you wrote back then. My dad feared that I wouldn't believe him, so he gave it to me. I was afraid Joel would accidentally come across it, so I kept it with me at all times. As for the supposed fraudulent clinic abroad, that's easy to investigate with a single call." As Joel read the contents of that letter, his eyes instantly became bloodshot. He found it hard to believe that the truth was so ugly and unsettling.