Beyond the Fractured Memory

Chapter 1

When Edward Fairfax awoke, he found himself in a foggy haze of confusion. He had lost his memory—everything except the vague notion that he was from a place called Eldoria. Nothing made sense, and as he tried to piece together the fragments of his identity, reality began to crumble around him.

This world was bizarre, to say the least. People everywhere around him had these systems—high-tech battle healing systems, glamorous beauty and hygiene setups, even strange dating and hookup systems that felt ripped from the pages of some odd romance novel. What the hell was going on?

After a moments’ hesitation, the next shock nearly knocked him off his feet: before his memory lapse, he had married a man named Elias Sterling. They ended up divorcing, and then... he had apparently run away from home? That wasn't enough. The cherry on top of this twisted sundae was that he had "given birth" to an egg.

Egg? An actual egg?

Just then, a sharp crack echoed through the air, startling him. The eggshell splintered, and he held his breath, watching as a fuzzy little head poked through the fragments.

Edward couldn't help but laugh. This whole situation was absurd. He had "hatched" a baby penguin. What in the actual hell?

He looked down at the creature, bewilderment mixing with hilarity, as the little penguin fluffed its feathers and blinked up at him, its big, round eyes glistening with innocence. This was his life now—a lost Eldoria man, a hasty marriage to Elias, a spontaneous escape, and a penguin baby that had somehow become a part of his story. It was more than ridiculous; it was utterly mind-boggling.

“Just my luck,” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “A penguin, really?”

Swallowing a nervous laugh, Edward leaned closer to his new companion. As the tiny creature waddled toward him, he wondered how he was going to navigate this crazy new life, filled with systems he didn’t understand and feelings he could barely grasp.

But looking into those beady eyes, he felt a spark of something—hope, maybe? Or was it the thrill of an absurd adventure waiting to unfold? Regardless, if he was going to find his way again, he’d have to start figuring out who he really was, and what role this little penguin—and Elias—were going to play in his bizarre new reality.

Chapter 2

It was an absolutely chaotic scene, one that mere words like "natural disaster" or "catastrophe" could barely begin to capture.

A monstrous creature towered over the wreckage, flattened skyscrapers strewn like discarded toys, the anguished cries of countless people mixing with the swirling dust—a horrifying tableau that defied description.

Edward’s heart raced, panic clawing at his throat as he scanned the chaos around him. The fear that gripped him was not for his own life but for someone else’s…

“Elias… Elias!” Edward shouted, desperation lacing his voice.

And then he saw him.

Even amidst the disaster, Elias was a striking figure, impossible to ignore. He stood tall, his features blessedly handsome, elegance etched into every line of his face—as if sculpted by a deity. His dark eyes sparkled, hints of green flickering like stars caught in a shadowy sea, an artwork that stirred something deep within Edward.

He had seen Elias at his finest before. But now, in this moment, Elias was cold—an unyielding presence, an echo of life wrapped in indifference.

Edward's heart lurched. He lunged forward, desperate, but an invisible barrier halted him in place.

He couldn't reach Elias; he could only watch from a distance.

Witnessing Elias stand alone against the monstrous threat, that cascade of wind-swept hair glimmering with a ghostly blue hue amid the crackling lightning, facing a towering behemoth with a courage that seemed both absurd and inspiring.

With a flick of his hand, radiant light burst forth. Dressed in a shimmering silver uniform, beneath those frosty white gloves lay an unstoppable force—the very essence of thunder.

Destruction and salvation were a mere thought apart.

Blood-curdling screams echoed alongside the monster's enraged roars; lightning surged down like judgement from above, mixing with the metallic scent of blood. Fear gripped everyone; survival was the only instinct that remained.

And yet, Edward knew all too well that even someone as formidable as Elias stood little chance against this size of darkness.

But retreat wasn't an option.

This was a small planet, home to three hundred thousand souls. If he couldn’t stop that monster, what would happen to them all…?

The weight of that thought sent a throb through Edward's skull. “Elias! Let me out!” he cried, voice cracking.

No reply came. From tens of feet in the air, Elias turned his head slightly, casting a fleeting glance in Edward's direction.

Even such a distant gaze felt like a stab to the heart. Edward’s breath hitched as he met Elias's eyes, and his pulse quickened.

Frantically, he pounded on the cursed barrier. Useless. It wouldn’t budge; he was trapped, powerless, reduced to a helpless observer.

Many knew how powerful Elias could be, but Edward understood better than anyone that few truly grasped the depths of Elias's strength.

From a height, the magnificent figure dispersed sheets of lightning with effortless grace. Elias closed his eyes, removed his gloves, revealing long, elegant fingers—hands so exquisite they could inspire envy in concert pianists.

But those hands were capable of unthinkable destruction.

The most beautiful things could also be the deadliest.

With thorns, roses defend themselves; with poison, poppies do likewise. And beneath that dazzling glow lurked an omen of death.

Edward clung to this horrific reality.

At the core of the radiant brilliance was a gaping void, as cavernous as night itself.

Elias unleashed all his power—everything mustered to annihilate that beast. But in doing so, how many lives would it cost?

No chance for survival remained, not for the thousands present, not for Elias himself.

Pain gnawed at Edward's chest as the all-consuming radiance faded away. Finally, he broke free from the confinement.

The barrier crumbled, its master gone.

Edward had considered escaping countless times; five years of marriage felt more like a prison sentence. Yet, seeing the man lying amid the rubble brought forth an overwhelming wave of anguish and despair.

If only… please, don’t save me.

If only… I would trade my life for yours.

As long as you survive.

He cradled Elias’s still form in his arms, tears streaming down his face, a burgeoning power awakening from deep within him.

He had the gift of healing, and now, at this critical moment, it erupted back to life.

If only he could revive Elias, he’d give everything he had.

A torrent of energy surged from him, countless starlights pouring from his being, reaching into Elias, igniting a glimmer of life once more.

As the energy ebbed away, Edward felt an overwhelming fatigue wash over him, but then, he saw Elias blink awake.

To gaze into those beautiful eyes again filled Edward with an unexplainable warmth.

Though he had nearly sacrificed everything, regret never crossed his mind.

Elias looked at him and grasped his hand tightly, that deep dark gaze shimmering like jade, infinite emotion swirling within.

“I save you… you save me… and that’s it. No strings attached…” Edward murmured.

Just as his words settled into the air, he saw the light dissipate from Elias's eyes, the ink-black depths falling still.

In that moment, it was as if the very fabric of existence fell into a deep, yawning void.

A silence enveloped them—endless, profound, an echo of despair.

Chapter 3

With a sharp pain coursing through his chest, Edward Fairfax abruptly opened his eyes.

Though awake, it took him a good few moments to shake off the lingering haze from the dream he’d just had—an adrenaline-fueled whirlwind that felt as if it would rip his heart from his chest.

He thought a dream so vivid would tattoo itself on his memory, yet as his heartbeat began to settle, he found his mind as blank as a clean slate. It was like someone had hit 'delete.' Colors faded, stories vanished, and all he could grasp were echoes of bone-deep sorrow, the kind that lingered after losing everything, mixed with an unbearable sense of parting and death.

A sharp ache pulsed in his head, and Edward willed himself to stop thinking. It was just a dream. Forget about it. He reminded himself he was just a baby now; the priority was to eat, drink, and grow strong.

Speaking of which… where were his parents? The plan was for regular feedings, and yet here he was, alone.

Edward's mind was a jumble of questions as he gave a small wave with a hand that felt entirely unfamiliar. His heart dropped upon noticing—his hand was huge… remarkably large.

The sudden change threw Edward into a daze. He had been an infant for months, painfully aware of how clumsy his little body was. But now? He was capable of raising his arms, sitting up, hell, he could even stand.

He jumped up from his bed and took stock of his surroundings, hardly able to believe his eyes. This wasn’t some fever dream—he had genuinely grown overnight. Look at him, easily in his twenties now.

But that was impossible.

No one grows up overnight—at least not in reality.

Did he… travel again?

Seriously? He’d just landed in some weird future society, got used to being a tiny baby, and warmed up to those young parents of his—only to get yanked into a new life again?

Edward was fuming; no one relished dealing with this kind of nonsense.

He swung his legs off the bed and surveyed the spacious room with its silver-gray walls and high-tech furniture that adjusted as he moved. The double bed folded itself into a sleek storage table, the overhead light dimmed to a cozy glow, and the fluffy carpet turned into smooth flooring beneath his tiny slippers.

When he had first seen the home automation system, his jaw had dropped, but after months of living with it, he’d grown accustomed.

So he was still in this futuristic society, in the same house. But how could he have matured so drastically in one night?

Where were his young parents?

Filled with questions, Edward decided to venture out and see what on earth was going on.

As he approached the door, it opened automatically, responding to his presence.

Stepping forward, he almost collided with someone.

The stranger stood there, well-dressed in a chic blue-and-white uniform, draped in a velvet shawl. Though not particularly tall, his tailored outfit gave him an air of authority.

But police uniforms or not, Edward felt a chill. It was written all over this guy’s face: “I’m not here for a friendly chat.”

Confirming that instinct, the moment the stranger locked eyes with him, he sneered, "You’re awake. How come you’re not dead yet?”

Edward didn’t reply, but suddenly, a name flashed across his mind—“Rowan Fairfax.”

He didn’t know why he recognized it, but he knew it belonged to this arrogant figure.

Not one to let insults slide, Edward shot back, “My existence isn't something you get to decide.”

That hit a nerve. Rowan's cheeks flushed, anger radiating off him. “Edward, how dare you come back like this. You think you still belong to House Sterling? You’ve been kicked out. You and Elias are through. You think I don’t know? You’re nothing without him.”

Rowan hurled a cascade of accusations, most of which washed over Edward like meaningless noise. He was disoriented by the flood of words that felt entirely nonsensical.

Rowan was too caught up in his own self-righteousness to recognize Edward’s silence wasn’t a sign of defeat. “You married him just to hurt my sister. You knew what you’d be signing up for,” he continued, the glee in his voice barely contained. “A man marrying another man? That’s just gross.”

Each word dug in like knives, but Edward—always a fighter—scoffed, stepping closer to Rowan with a cold smile, “I find it funny that you’re the one throwing shade while acting like a brat.”

The comment struck hard. Rowan, caught off guard, faltered, his bravado withering. But he wasted no time regrouping, his mind ticking as he thought of Edward’s past missteps. “You’re a nobody now. Your parents were nobodies. Garbage begets garbage, and your trash parents are dead; why don’t you…?"

Rowan's words faltered, cut short as Edward suddenly seized him by the throat.

Edward’s gaze radiated with a fierce intensity, his voice a chilling whisper, “What did you say?”

“I…” Rowan struggled, the panic washing over him as he felt his windpipe constrict. The man in front of him, though composed, had darkness swirling beneath the surface, hints of bloodshed lurking behind those gentle eyes.

Just the thought sent shockwaves of terror through Rowan's chest. “Edward, you can’t do this. I’m a citizen; you can’t hurt me. If you touch me, I’ll have you arrested.”

At first terrified, Rowan’s confidence surged as he spoke. Yes, Edward had training, but he was now stripped of everything. No titles, no ties to power. Edward wouldn't dare lift a finger at House Fairfax's orders.

Rowan, feeling emboldened, remembered his poor sister and let rage fuel his words. "You’re a shameless bastard. Took someone’s husband and ended up a whore. You deserve everything that’s coming to you!"

And that was it.

Edward’s eyes narrowed, the rage welling up inside him. He coiled his fist and slammed it against Rowan’s gut with a force that knocked the wind out of him.

Rowan had no time to brace. He bent over, gasping, the agony in his stomach overwhelming everything.

But Edward wasn’t done. He still held Rowan’s throat, squeezing firmer as he hissed through clenched teeth, “Tell me what happened to my parents.”

Chapter 4

Rowan Fairfax felt the sting of his split lip as he tasted blood, panic clawing at his insides. He was supposed to be here to gawk at the scene, to feast on the chaos, but he never expected this lunatic would actually throw a punch at him. What was he thinking? Who did this guy think he was, acting so brazenly in the Fairfax household? Just wait until his father found out; this idiot would be in for a world of hurt.

But then reality struck as Rowan remembered where he was, and that emboldened him again. “You're trash, you know that? Your parents were worthless, leeches on this earth. Better off dead than sucking up resources. And you’re just as pathetic; it's a miracle you even remember how they left—”

Suddenly, another punch landed, and Rowan coughed, the air knocked right out of him.

Edward Fairfax picked him up by a fistful of his shirt, his eyes glinting with cold fury. “Shut it. I’m going to teach you a lesson about respect.”

With that, he swung again, his fist a blur, landing with ruthless precision. Rowan was already bent over, struggling to keep himself upright, the wind knocked from his sails and every ounce of bravado draining away.

Edward’s punches were quick and strategically aimed—he was no novice at this. In another life, he’d trained, and though this body was no stronger than his last, the instinct was there. He measured his hits just enough to create discomfort but was careful not to cause lasting harm. He craved an outlet for the chaos he faced, the agony that swelled within him since learning his parents were gone. He barely knew them, yet they had embraced him in a way that felt real. And now, without warning, he felt the crushing weight of everything he had lost.

Rowan was simply the wrong target at the wrong time.

Basking in the spoiling privilege that came from being showered with affection, Rowan had never trained for anything physical. The only skill he wielded with any confidence was sewing—perfect for patching up the endless rips in his clothing but useless at defending against violence.

Pain radiated from his abdomen, coupled with the rage in Edward’s eyes. Fear filled him completely after the second punch, and soon he was pleading, tears welling up. “Stop! Please, don’t hurt me. My parents—they died in a freak accident, in a spaceship crash, six months ago. They… they’re never coming back!”

Edward paused, the truth cutting through him like ice, his heart clenching painfully at the revelation. Anger simmered in him, more fierce than before.

“Shut up,” Rowan shivered under the weight of Edward’s icy glare, feeling small, reduced to a shell of his former self.

Just then, a commanding voice boomed from outside, slicing through the atmosphere like a knife. “Enough!”

Edward glanced up, recognizing the figure approaching.

Five or six people flanked a man who stood tall, his brow arched in anger. At that moment, a smaller, more fragile figure darted into view, dropping to her knees beside Rowan, concern etched on her face. “Little Yu, what happened?”

Rowan, struggling to find his voice, managed a broken whisper. “Sister…”

Elena Fairfax’s heart shattered at what she saw. Her youngest brother was a mess, and anger flared within her. “Edward, what on earth are you doing? Rowan is your cousin—how can you lay a hand on him like this?”

Edward met her gaze. He remembered her from the three months he’d spent adjusting to the strange reality of his new life. Elena Fairfax—next in line for the Fairfax legacy, though he’d never paid her much mind back then. Blood ties held, regardless of his indifference.

He pushed his emotions aside, forcing himself to reply respectfully. “Aunt, just as you said, Rowan is my cousin. I was merely playing with him, not doing any real harm.”

“Playing?” Rowan croaked, feeling a sudden rush of courage. “You were about to kill me!”

With his sister’s help, he stood weakly, his voice trembling as he recounted his side of the story. “Dad, Edward’s completely lost it. I just came to check on him, and he decided to take out all his anger on me. He’s a lunatic!”

The moment he spoke, a shiver ran down his spine as Edward shot him a warning glance. It was enough to silence him.

Elena’s heart was heavy for Rowan, and her dislike for Edward surged. She opened her mouth to rebuke him when the sound of footsteps interrupted.

Everyone turned, eyes on a mild-mannered man who approached quietly. Bowing slightly, he announced, “Young Master Edward has regained consciousness. The Master is waiting for you in the hall.” Then, he turned to Elena, adding, “Madam, the Master requests your presence as well.”

Her irritation slipping away, Elena raised her chin slightly, responding coolly, “Understood.”

With a polite smile, the man flicked his wrist, and a small, sleek hovercar appeared as if conjured out of thin air. “Please, step inside.”

Elena nodded, and the group gathered, all moving toward the vehicle with an air of normalcy. Except for Edward, whose surprise almost caught him off guard for a moment.

But he didn’t falter. He took his time, making his way unhurriedly to the hovercar, drawn into the legacy of the Fairfax name—a legacy woven through centuries, evident in the sprawling estate that left outsiders in awe.

Chapter 5

In the age of interstellar exploration, resources had become the ultimate currency, and to own a sprawling estate on a habitable planet was a mark of unparalleled wealth.

Edward Fairfax sat quietly in the back of the sleek, autonomous vehicle, his mind racing. He resisted the dread slowly creeping in—this reality held only two possibilities: either he had somehow jumped twenty years into the future overnight, or he had lost two decades of memories.

Neither option felt right, and the anxiety gnawed at him, especially when he thought of his parents...

No. Edward clenched his fists. He had to maintain control. Showing weakness would only embolden his enemies; for now, he needed to stay calm.

The car glided smoothly through the air, its speed alarming in its efficiency. In a flash, they arrived at the heart of the estate—the grand hall that felt both familiar and alien.

Robert Fairfax, the family patriarch, looked to be in his fifties or sixties, a façade that didn’t fool Edward. Twenty years previous, when Edward was an infant, Robert had cast a wary eye on him, though he was too much of a creature of pride to express any affection for his grandson. And yet, here they were, over two decades later, Edward grown into a man while Robert appeared untouched by time.

As they entered the hall, people exchanged quick hellos. Suddenly, Rowan, Edward’s cousin, doubled over, groaning softly.

“What's wrong, little guy?” Robert asked, concern etched onto his face.

Rowan was pale, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he recounted the earlier incident, practically selling Edward out wholesale.

A sardonic smile crept onto Edward’s lips, barely hiding his amusement.

Before Robert could speak, Elena Fairfax jolted to life, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Xiao Xu, I know you’ve held onto the past, but why take it out on little Xu?”

Edward had no idea what “the past” referred to, yet here she was, deftly pinning guilt on him.

Elena was as graceful as her name suggested, her voice smooth and gentle, a soft melody that dripped with sincerity. “Yes, I made mistakes, but you married Elias Sterling—you got what you wanted. Now we both bear the consequences. I know it’s hard for you to forgive me, but why hurt Xiao Xu in the process?”

As her tears fell freely, like a broken dam, Edward observed her with a detached curiosity. This woman had a future ahead of her; her ability to cry with such restraint—no puffiness, no snot—was a talent of its own.

When she finished, he casually glanced up at Robert Fairfax, who seemed to be processing it all. Edward caught the flicker of a frown, followed by a reluctant swallow of whatever emotion was boiling beneath the surface. Yet Robert held his tongue, simply shifting his gaze.

Inside, Edward smirked at Robert's discomfort but maintained an unruffled exterior. “I didn’t hit anyone, Grandpa. Rowan came to visit me. We talked, and then he started wailing. That’s when Uncle Three showed up.”

Rowan couldn't take it anymore. “Liar! The second I saw you, you lost it and went nuts! I was trying to be nice, and you just started swinging!”

Robert narrowed his eyes, addressing Rowan. “Did Edward hit you? Are you hurt?”

Rowan flinched as he recalled the impact, clutching his stomach. “He went all out! Look, I’m bruised!” With that, the young man lifted his shirt to reveal his abdomen.

A heavy silence descended upon the room.

Edward leaned back, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Rowan, you've got some seriously pale skin.”

Rowan looked down, his expression shifting from bravado to shock. His previously pristine skin bore no trace of bruising. “What the hell?” he stammered, disbelief palpable in his voice. Edward’s punch had felt like it could’ve taken him out, but now? Nothing.

Elena’s quick wit saved the moment. “Xiao Xu, you have blood on your lip…”

In an instant, Rowan caught on. “Grandpa! He made me spit blood!”

Robert frowned and turned his full attention to Edward. “What’s going on here?”

Edward played innocent. “Grandpa, if I bit my lip and it bled, does that mean Rowan got me, too?”

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