Odyssey Of Survival-Chapter 67 He’s Alive

The image of Nate sitting on the ground, clutching himself, gradually faded into oblivion as the perfect world around them dissolved. Bella found herself standing amidst chaos. The once serene beach had transformed into a nightmarish landscape, a world on the brink of destruction.

Dark clouds churned in the sky, casting everything in an eerie, stormy gloom. Bolts of lightning rained down relentlessly, striking with terrifying precision and ripping the ground apart. Each strike brought thunder that shook the ground, deafening and terrifying. Bella’s heart raced as she scanned the chaos, her eyes finally landing on Nate.

He was caught in the storm, his face a mask of terror and pain. Lightning bolts chased him like predators, each strike coming closer than the last. His clothes were torn, his body battered, and his cries of agony echoed through the air. He ran frantically, trying to find shelter, but no matter where he went, the lightning followed.

"Nate!" Bella shouted, her voice barely audible over the cacophony of the storm. She tried to move toward him, but her feet felt heavy as if the very ground was holding her back. Stretching her hand out, she called to him again. "Nate, I’m here! Please, look at me!"

But he didn’t hear her. His eyes were wild, filled with a primal fear as he kept running, stumbling, and falling. Each time he got up, another bolt of lightning struck dangerously close, forcing him to keep moving.

Bella took a deep breath and forced her feet to move, each step feeling like a battle. She had to reach him, to pull him out of this nightmare. Just as she was closing the distance, one of the bolts of lightning stopped midair. It hovered as if alive, crackling with an ominous energy. Then, with terrifying speed, it turned and hurtled straight toward her.

Bella’s eyes widened in shock. She raised her arms instinctively, but before it could hit her, she jolted awake.

Her eyes snapped open, and she gasped for air, realizing she was no longer in the storm but back in the medical center. She had released Nate’s hand and stumbled back, her heart pounding against her ribs. Looking at Nate, she saw him still lying peacefully on the bed, his expression calm and untroubled, as though none of what she had just witnessed had touched him.

Bella wiped her forehead, realizing it was drenched in sweat. Her breathing was ragged, and her hands trembled as she clutched them to her chest. "What did that man do to you?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What did the lightning man do to leave you like this?"

She began pacing the room, her mind racing. Nate’s calm exterior was a cruel contrast to the torment she had just seen. That wasn’t a simple dream; it was something deeper, something more real. She had been inside his mind, and what she had seen was horrifying.

She tried to think of what to do. Who could possibly help her figure out what was happening to Nate? One name came to mind, and her steps quickened as the answer became clear. She spared one last glance at Nate, her heart aching for him, before rushing out of the room.

---

Jack stood in silence, his face showed shock and concern as Bella finished explaining everything she had experienced. His usual calm demeanor was replaced by a furrowed brow and a clenched jaw. He rubbed his temples, trying to process what he had just heard.

"He’s still suffering," Bella said, her voice trembling. "Even after we brought him back. Even after we thought he was safe. It’s like... like the torture never ended."

Jack let out a long breath and leaned against the table, his arms crossed. His expression grew darker, more serious. "We’ve been looking at this the wrong way," he said finally.

Bella’s brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Jack turned to her, his eyes sharp. "The lightning man... he wasn’t trying to destroy Nate physically. That wasn’t his goal."

"What are you saying?" Bella asked, her voice rising with urgency.

"I’m saying," Jack began, his tone grave, "that his real intention was to break Nate mentally. Psychologically. He wanted to shatter him from the inside out."

Bella’s stomach churned as Jack’s words sank in. "But... why?"

Jack straightened, his fists clenched. "Think about it. Every time he tortured Nate, he called Ann to heal him. Every single time, just so he could start again. It wasn’t about killing him—it was about breaking him so completely that there’d be nothing left. No fight, no will to resist."

Bella staggered back, the weight of his words hitting her like a blow. "So... so he succeeded?"

Jack’s face darkened, his voice low and filled with regret. "We were too late, Bella. He already broke him."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence heavy with the gravity of the revelation. Bella’s heart felt like it was being crushed. She looked away, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.

Jack placed a hand on her shoulder, his expression softening slightly. "But it’s not over," he said firmly. "We got him back. We can still help him. We’ll figure this out, Bella. Together."

Bella nodded slowly, though the weight of what she had just learned was almost too much to bear. She had seen Nate’s torment firsthand, and now she understood just how deep the scars ran. But one thing was clear: they couldn’t give up on him. Not now, not ever.

****

Back on Earth, almost two months had passed since the mysterious disappearance of a plane carrying university students and other passengers. Despite relentless efforts, search operations, and the use of advanced technology, the plane had vanished without a trace. Conspiracy theories flourished—some said the plane had been hijacked and taken to a hidden location; others believed it had crashed into the depths of the ocean. None of the theories provided answers, only fueling the despair of those left behind.

Around the globe, the loss was deeply felt, especially among the families of the missing. Their pictures were plastered on televisions, accompanied by tributes and eulogies. In Nate’s university, a special remembrance ceremony was held to honor the students who had vanished that day.

The school auditorium was transformed into a hall of mourning. Candles flickered softly, their light illuminating the faces of those lost. Each missing student had a portrait displayed on an individual pedestal, surrounded by flowers, notes, and trinkets left by loved ones. The air was thick with grief as families gathered around the portraits, openly weeping, sharing stories, or simply staring silently at the smiling faces of their children, siblings, or friends.

Nate’s portrait was placed in the same row as the others, but unlike the others, it drew little attention. While groups of people surrounded the other portraits, mourning in clusters, Nate’s was devoid of visitors. The only person standing by it was his adoptive mother.

Her face was pale, her eyes red and swollen from countless sleepless nights. She held onto the edge of the frame as though it might anchor her trembling body. Her lips moved in a whisper, almost like a prayer, but no one came to join her, no one stopped to console her. Nate’s portrait seemed almost forgotten, much like the boy himself had been in life.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stared at his photo. "This is my fault," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the soft hum of sorrow that filled the room. "You didn’t want to go. You never cared about the art trip. But I… I pushed you. I forced you to join. And now…" Her voice broke as she clutched her chest. "Now, you’re gone. My baby… my son… I’m so sorry."

A breeze drifted through the room, carrying with it a strange, comforting warmth. She froze, lifting her head. The air felt different, like a presence had entered the space around her. She turned slowly, her breath catching in her throat.

Standing beside her was a man she hadn’t seen in twenty years.

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Tall and dark-skinned, he had the same enigmatic presence as the day she first met him. His expression was calm, his eyes kind but filled with an otherworldly intensity. She stumbled back a step, her hand covering her mouth.

"You…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "It’s you…"

Her mind raced as memories flooded back. Two decades ago, this same man had appeared on her doorstep. She was at her lowest point, having been abandoned by her husband and told she could never have children. But then this man arrived, holding a bundle in his arms.

"This child is destined for greatness," he had said as he handed her the baby. "He is special, and nothing will stop him from achieving his destiny. Take care of him, for he will change the world."

She had clung to those words, raising Nate with the belief that he was meant for something extraordinary. But now…

She shook her head, tears falling freely. "You told me he was special," she said, her voice breaking. "You told me he was destined for greatness. Then why? Why is he gone?"

Her voice cracked, drawing the attention of those nearby. Whispers began to ripple through the room.

"Who’s she talking to?"

"Is she… okay?"

"She’s always been strange, just like her son."

The murmurs reached her ears, but she ignored them. Her eyes remained locked on the man before her.

She hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why can’t they see you?"

The man smiled gently, his expression serene. "Because I am not here for them," he said softly. "I came for you."

Her knees felt weak as she struggled to understand. "Why… why are you here? Why now?"

He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. His touch was warm, calming the storm of emotions raging inside her. "Go home," he said simply. "Your son is alive."

Her heart stopped at his words. "What…?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of hope and disbelief.

But before she could say anything more, he disappeared, vanishing as if he had never been there at all.

The whispers around her grew louder.

"Did she just… imagine someone?"

"She’s losing it."

"Poor woman. Must be the grief."

Nate’s mother stood frozen in place, her hands shaking as she stared at the empty space where the man had stood. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but one thing stood out above all else.

He’s alive.