My Doctor the Hero Who Saved the World

"For those who still stand, even when their hearts have long since fallen.  
For those who saved the world—only to be left completely alone within it.  

Not every wound bleeds. Not every scar can be seen upon the body.  
There are wounds carried in the soul, and those are the ones that ache the most.  

It began with a mistake.  
The Goddess of Death, Akaja, keeper of the Book of the Dead, accidentally wrote my name upon its cursed pages. That should have been my end. But instead, she panicked, waved her hands and said:  
> “W-wait! You weren’t killed by accident, no! You were chosen! Yes, chosen to become the Hero who will save the world of Dissia! You believe me… right?”  

And just like that, I was thrown into another world.  

At first, I was thrilled. This was what I had always dreamed of—to be a Hero. I swore to protect everyone, to live up to the chance I had been given. The battles were heavy, the enemies merciless, but I endured. And at last… I succeeded. I became the Hero who saved Dissia from destruction.  

For a time, it felt glorious. People cheered my name. They called me Hawk, their savior. Nobles smiled at me, kings bowed their heads, princesses dreamed of marrying me. And yet… the glory was a chain. The weight of politics, the greed of kingdoms, the endless demands… it crushed me.  

I had thought being a Hero was freedom. I was wrong. It was a prison built of praise and expectation.  

So I disappeared. I abandoned the stage, cast aside the title of Hawk, and for five years I hid myself from the world. And in that silence, I saw the truth. The war had ended, but peace had broken many more souls. Soldiers with no purpose. Adventurers with no battles. Even monsters, lost without enemies to fight. Depression, hunger, despair—it spread like a sickness.  

And so, I chose a new path.  

Not as Hawk, the Hero. But as a Doctor.  
Here, in the neutral city of Ri’Estize, I built a small clinic. Not to fight wars. Not to chase glory. But to heal wounds—the ones seen on the body, and the ones unseen in the heart.  

…  

“Doctor?”  

A soft voice pulls me back from my thoughts. At the desk stands the nurse I hired. Their wings—or aura—mark them as something extraordinary, whether Angel or Demon. Their gender and nature reflect what I am not.  

They hold out a blank name tag with a small smile.  
> “We need to finish the paperwork. Patients must know how to address you. Please… write your name.”  

For five years, I have lived without it.  
Now, this moment decides who I will be.  

[Write your name Hero]