[: 3rd POV :]

What does he truly want?

That question did not fade.

It did not lessen with time.

Instead, it repeated itself endlessly within Daniel’s mind, echoing through layers of memory, thought, and identity until it became less of a question and more of a constant presence he could no longer ignore.

What does he truly want?

What does he truly want?

What does he truly want?

And as he stood within the endless void, where even time seemed irrelevant, his consciousness began to drift inward, not outward toward the world, not toward enemies or battles, but toward everything that had ever defined him before this moment.

Memories from both of his lives surged.

Not as isolated fragments, but as a continuous, overwhelming stream of existence.

He saw himself again in that sterile room.

The cold white walls.

The unchanging beeping of machines.

The sensation of being unable to move, unable to speak, unable to even properly acknowledge the passage of time.

A body that was not truly living, yet not allowed to die.

He remembered the weight of chains, not physical chains, but something far more absolute, dependency, limitation, inevitability.

He remembered the feeling of being trapped inside a life that was never his to begin with.

Then the memories shifted.

A second life, his rebirth.

He had power and strength this time, yet even that power had not been immediate, nor had it been free.

He had been weak again, vulnerable again, forced into situations where survival depended not on strength, but on endurance, on suffering through moments where choice did not exist at all.

Slavery.

Control.

Submission to forces far beyond him.

And even after power came into his hands, even after he began to rise, there were still moments, brief, sharp reminders, that he was never truly free.

That his strength only existed within the boundaries of systems, worlds, and rules he did not create.

Every memory pointed to the same conclusion.

Without power, there was no choice.

Without choice, there was no self.

And yet...even with power...choice was still not guaranteed.

Something about that realisation settled deep within him, heavier than any injury, more suffocating than any battlefield he had ever endured.

If he did not possess the strength to act, then everything was decided for him.

If he did possess the strength, then and only then could he begin to decide for himself.

That was the pattern.

That was the truth that had always governed his existence, even when he refused to acknowledge it.

Daniel’s expression slowly tightened, not in confusion, but in something closer to understanding.

He had been chasing strength.

He had been chasing survival.

He had been chasing control.

But none of those was the true destination.

They were the only means.

Means to something deeper.

Something fundamental.

And then...it happened.

Like a fracture forming in the endless stillness of his thoughts.

There was a realisation.

"That’s it!"

The words escaped him with force, cutting through the void like a declaration that did not belong to hesitation or uncertainty, but to certainty itself.

His eyes sharpened as everything aligned within him at once, not as scattered thoughts, but as a single unified understanding.

Strength was not the goal.

Power was not the goal.

Even family, freedom, respect, or dominion were not the ultimate destination.

They were all branches of something larger.

Something that had always been present but never defined.

Freedom.

Not just freedom in the physical sense.

Not just freedom from chains, or from death, or from control.

But freedom to choose.

Freedom to exist without being forced into roles dictated by weakness, circumstance, or higher authority.

Freedom to decide his path without interference from fate, systems, or anything else that sought to define him.

Everything he had ever endured, every life, every pain, every moment of helplessness, every moment of growth, it all converged into this singular understanding.

Freedom was not something granted.

It was something taken.

And to take it completely...he needed absolute strength.

Not for domination.

Not for destruction.

But for the removal of all constraints that could ever take choice away from him again.

Daniel stood still in the void, yet for the first time, it no longer felt empty.

It felt clear, purposeful and defined.

"...Freedom,"

He repeated quietly, as if confirming it to himself, letting the word settle fully within his existence.

Daniel’s voice echoed through the void, not as a question, not as hesitation, but as a declaration that carried the weight of everything he had endured, everything he had lost, and everything he had finally come to understand.

The sound did not disperse into emptiness; instead, it lingered, as though the very concept he had spoken had taken form and begun to resonate through existence itself.

For a moment, he remained still after speaking, letting the words settle not only in the space around him but within himself.

It felt different saying it aloud, as if acknowledging it made it more real, more undeniable.

Freedom.

A word that, in this universe, was never simple.

It was not something granted by kindness or mercy.

It was not something given through law or compassion.

It was something earned, carved, and enforced through sheer strength.

Daniel’s gaze lowered slightly as his thoughts deepened, becoming more structured, more absolute.

In this world, freedom was not a right; it was a privilege reserved only for those who could enforce their existence without resistance.

Without strength, there was no freedom.

There was only submission.

There was only dependence on the mercy of those stronger, those higher, those who decided what could and could not exist.

He understood that now more clearly than ever.

To live without strength meant being controlled.

To make choices without strength meant those choices could be erased at any moment.

Even something as personal as forming a family, building connections, or choosing companionship would lose its meaning without the power to protect it.

It would not be love, it would be vulnerability. And in this universe, vulnerability was indistinguishable from loss waiting to happen.

Without strength, even happiness became temporary.

Even bonds became fragile illusions.

Even peace became something borrowed, not owned.

Daniel’s expression darkened slightly, not in anger, but in realisation of how absolute this truth was.

"No freedom without strength..." he muttered quietly, almost as if testing the weight of the concept.

Because if he attempted to live any of those ideals, if he tried to form a family, if he tried to build connections, if he tried to live freely, without absolute power, then all of it would eventually be taken away.

It would not be true freedom.

It would be false freedom.

A temporary illusion of control that would collapse the moment something stronger decided otherwise.

And that was something he refused to accept.

Daniel slowly clenched his hand, not in aggression, but in resolve.

"Everything... would just be taken away in the end,"

He continued softly, his voice carrying a rare clarity, as though he was no longer debating the idea but affirming it as law within his own existence.

That was the truth of this universe.

Nothing remained safe without power.

Nothing remained yours without the strength to keep it.

Even the things that felt eternal, bonds, love, and purpose, would eventually crumble if left unprotected in a world that respected only force.

Daniel raised his gaze slightly, his eyes steady now, no longer wandering through uncertainty.

If freedom was the goal...

Then strength was not optional.

It was not secondary.

It was not a path.

It was the foundation of everything.

"To have freedom... I need strength," he said firmly, each word more certain than the last.

"Because without strength, even freedom itself becomes meaningless."

He paused briefly, letting the thought settle deeper.

"False freedom... only lasts until someone stronger decides to take it away."

And that was the part he could never accept.

What he wished for is true freedom where one could choose a choice of his own and with the consequences behind it.

And a true freedom without being reliant on submission.

But in order to achieve true freedom, someone must take a path where no one else would be willing.

A path to where no one would ever dare to mess, and at the same time, where his people could choose.

After all, he wouldn’t want to live in those moments again.

Not again, not after everything he had experienced.

Not after understanding what it meant to be powerless.

Daniel’s expression finally settled into calm determination.

If he wanted to choose his own life...

If he wanted to protect anything he valued...

If he wanted anything at all to remain truly his...

Then he would need to become something that no longer existed within the rules of this universe.

Something that could not be controlled.

Something that could not be erased.

Something that could not be denied the right to choose.

Because only then...would freedom stop being an illusion...

And become reality.