The Second Life of Demon King

Episode 7: Dreams from the Past

The night sky was dark, and a full moon cast a pale glow, filtering through the window of Isaac's room. The atmosphere in his room was calm, but in Isaac’s mind, a different world was unfolding. He slept restlessly, his face damp with sweat, brows furrowed, and fingers clenched tightly around his blanket as if trying to hold back something difficult to let go.

In his dream, Isaac saw a grim scene—a world cloaked in smoke and fire. Maximus stood amidst a battlefield, his body wounded but his eyes blazing with fury. Shadows of traitors loomed around him, smirking with cruel satisfaction, while he felt an agonizing pain, the kind that only comes from betrayal.

“I trusted you!” Maximus’s voice thundered with anger, his eyes blazing like fire. “All of you... will pay!”

Isaac, within his small body, felt a surge of rage. “Why do I feel… like I am him? What is this that I’m experiencing?” he thought, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions rising from deep within.

Isaac jolted awake, his body drenched in cold sweat, his chest heaving with unsteady breaths. He bit his lip, trying to calm himself, but the memory of his dream felt too real. The pain and betrayal, inexplicably, felt as if they belonged to him.

Moments later, his bedroom door slowly opened, and his mother, Lydia, stood in the doorway, her face full of concern. “Isaac, did you have a nightmare again, honey?” she asked softly, approaching him and gently touching his damp hair.

Isaac was silent for a moment before looking up at his mother with eyes that seemed older than his years. “Mom… can someone feel like they’re someone else? Like… as if they had another life before?” he asked, his voice soft but brimming with curiosity.

Lydia offered a small smile, though a sense of worry gnawed at her. “Why would a child as young as him talk about past lives? What’s happening to him?” she thought. “It’s just a dream, Isaac. Dreams sometimes feel real, but they’re not reality.”

Isaac looked down at his small fingers, whispering, “But it felt… so real, Mom. Like… I had lived through all of this before.”

Lydia held his hand, trying to transfer warmth and a sense of security. “Maybe you’re just dreaming about things you’ve seen in books or on TV. Try not to think about it too much, alright?” she said, trying to comfort him.

But deep in Isaac’s heart, he knew this was more than just a fantasy. “Mom doesn’t understand. This is more than just a dream.” He sighed, his gaze drifting back to the window, where the moon still hung in the sky.

After Lydia left his room, Isaac sat on the edge of his bed, hugging his knees. He stared out at the moon, feeling a strong pull within him. “I have to find out… who I really am. All of this… all these dreams… they must mean something.”

Inside, a blend of anger and an ever-growing curiosity burned within him. “I’m not just a little kid. There’s something bigger inside of me… something I want to understand,” he thought.

Just as he was about to lie back down, Isaac felt something strange. His hand, still wrapped around his knee, began to feel warm, as if an energy was slowly emerging. He stared at his hand, confused and captivated. The energy was faint, yet it felt powerful.

“Is this… power?” he whispered, full of hope. But when he tried to focus his mind on the energy, it suddenly vanished, leaving him with an emptiness and a sense of unease.

Isaac looked back out the window, this time with an even stronger resolve. “I won’t stop until I know the answer. Who am I really… and why do I have these dreams?” His small eyes glinted in the moon’s shadow, while the darkness around him seemed to respond to the fierce determination growing within him.

Morning sunlight crept through Isaac's bedroom window, illuminating the small room filled with toys. But this morning, it wasn’t dolls or toy cars that captured his attention. Isaac sat cross-legged on the carpet, brow furrowed in intense concentration, staring at a small coin in front of him. His hand was half-raised, trying to summon the energy he could feel lingering within his small body.

Isaac took a deep breath. "Come on… do it again… I know you're in there…" he thought, his eyes fixed on the coin.

A faint warmth pulsed in his fingertips, like a tiny spark from an ocean of strength he had once commanded. He tried to recall the feeling, immersing himself in hazy memories that flickered in and out like smoke.

"Why… can’t I do it?" he muttered, frustration slipping into his voice.

In a sudden moment of impatience, Isaac clenched his hand, his body trembling, and a small surge of force escaped from him. The coin shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly, but enough to make Isaac's eyes widen.

"No way… did I do that?" he whispered, staring at the coin, now sitting a bit farther from its original position. His heart raced. "I really did it!"

Excitement surged through him, and a broad smile stretched across his face. Something within him stirred—a spirit that had been dormant for so long.

"I knew there was something inside me! Something that’s…" Isaac frowned, unsure of the word. “…big.”

Later in the afternoon, while his family gathered in the living room, Isaac approached his father, who was sitting down with the newspaper. Hesitantly, he tugged on his father’s sleeve.

“Dad,” Isaac called softly, though his voice was filled with curiosity. “Have you ever felt… different?”

His father folded the newspaper, looking at him with mild confusion. “Different? In what way, son?”

Isaac hesitated, searching for the right words. “Like… there’s something only you can do… something that feels special.”

His father chuckled, patting Isaac’s head affectionately. “You must be dreaming of being a hero, huh?” he said with a smile. “That’s just your imagination, Isaac. All kids feel that way.”

But Isaac wasn’t satisfied with that answer. "Dad doesn’t understand… this is more than just imagination," he thought, feeling a little disappointed.

Isaac's Inner Dialogue and Strengthening Power

That night, Isaac returned to his room, his curiosity growing stronger. He sat on his bed, his hands resting on his knees as he stared blankly at the coin still lying on the floor.

"What am I? How can I have this power?" he wondered, feelings of fear mixed with excitement. "I need to control it… I have to."

He reached out his hand again, this time with more confidence. A faint image of his past self as Maximus flashed in his mind—a figure strong and feared, someone who could command the world with a mere flick of his finger.

This time, the energy within him felt stronger. The coin on the floor trembled slightly, moving more visibly than before, and a small, triumphant smile crept onto Isaac’s face.

“This is only the beginning,” he thought. “I know there’s more I can do.”

As he sat alone in his room, Isaac gazed out at the night sky through his window. Stars sparkled above, and in the silence, he realized he was different. The power he had felt all along wasn’t a coincidence.

"Who am I really?" he whispered, his eyes glowing with an ever-growing determination. "I need to know… I have to understand where this power comes from."

A soft night breeze drifted into his room, as if wrapping around his unyielding resolve. Isaac’s journey to uncover the truth had just begun, and the deeper he searched, the stronger his desire grew to understand his true self.

Isaac sat on the swing, watching other children play and laugh freely under the bright afternoon sky. They ran after a ball, laughing together, completely unconcerned about serious matters. But Isaac just sat quietly, the swing creaking softly under his small weight. His head hung low, his mind drifting far away.

“Why can they be so happy?” he thought with a sigh. “Shouldn’t I be like that too?”

A boy named Ray approached him, eagerly tugging on Isaac’s hand. “Come on, Isaac! Let’s play tag!”

Isaac gave a faint smile and nodded, trying to fit in. However, as the game went on, his gaze became vacant. While the other kids ran joyfully, Isaac remained frozen in place. Suddenly, he muttered to himself, “You know, life is actually more than just a game…”

Ray, standing beside him, tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean, Isaac?”

Isaac fell silent, realizing that his words were too heavy for kids his age to understand. He tried to smile to cover it up. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was just… talking to myself,” he replied awkwardly.

After that, the other kids began to drift away, leaving Isaac alone on the swing. He watched them, but the feeling of awkwardness deepened. “Why do I feel different?” he thought. “Why do they seem unable to understand… what’s in my mind?”

Isaac clenched his fists, gripping the swing’s chains tightly until his knuckles turned white. “Am I wrong? Am I really… strange?”

That night, at home, Isaac sat at the dinner table with his mother. His face was a bit gloomy. His mother, stirring tea in her cup, looked at Isaac with concern.

“Isaac, is there something you want to tell me?” she asked gently, her warm hand touching the back of Isaac's hand.

Isaac sighed. “Mom… why can’t I be like other kids?”

His mother smiled faintly, gazing at him with a soft look. “Dear, everyone is unique. There are things you experience and feel that others might not yet understand. But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong, honey.”

Isaac looked down, contemplating his mother’s words. “Sometimes, I feel… there’s something inside me that’s different, Mom. Like something is missing… something that should be there, but I don’t know what it is.”

His mother gently stroked Isaac's back. “You’re still young, Isaac. Perhaps, over time, you’ll find the answers to all your questions.”

That night, Isaac sat by the window in his room, gazing at the night sky filled with stars. His reflection appeared faintly in the glass, and he stared at that shadow with a strange feeling.

“Who am I really?” he thought, his eyes misty. “Why do I feel so alienated? Am I… really a part of this world?”

A fleeting shadow of his past as Maximus flashed through his mind but vanished quickly, leaving an even greater sense of curiosity. Isaac clenched his fists, his determination growing stronger.

“I have to find the answers, whatever they may be…”