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Somewhere, in the Vast Expanse of Creation…
"This is not a tale told after its end. It is being witnessed… as it unfolds. And I—Devarshi Narada, shall bear witness to everything."
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Lunar Year 82,040 – 7th Manvantara, 28th Mahayuga, Kali Yuga; Outskirts of royal capital, Planet 78-Angel's Fall, Beta Universe 108...
Drip… drip…
'The sound echoed somewhere far away.
Or maybe it was right beside me.
I couldn't tell.'
Darkness receded slowly, like fog pulled away by an unseen hand.
The first thing he noticed was the cold.
Not the sharp sting of winter, but a deep, hollow chill, as if warmth itself had abandoned his body.
Then came the smell... Iron-heavy... Suffocating.
Blood.
Too much blood.
"Ha… So, it was a dream? But... I don't remember it well."
Slowly opening his eyes, the boy was speaking to himself in silence.
Yet no matter how hard he tried, the memory slipped through his grasp like smoke.
He remembered nothing. Not the dream, not himself.
He lay flat on his back, staring at a sky carved open by moonlight.
His body refused to answer him.
No pain.
No strength.
Not even fear. Only a distant, unreal awareness.
'Am I… alive?' the boy whispered.
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When he finally forced his eyes to move, the world revealed itself in fragments.
Colossal walls surrounded the mountain peak. Towering pillars stretched endlessly upward, as if touching the heavens themselves.
Nine colossal stupas floated in the sky, each guarded by sealed, grotesque winged beings. Their forms blurred behind translucent domes that covered the entire area like a divine cage.
Tears welled up in his eyes—not from sadness, but from an overwhelming feeling in his chest.
Awe?
Euphoria?
Or something far worse?
"Why am I crying...?"
'This place… the towering walls, the stupas, the winged guardians… none of it felt like an illusion. It felt deliberate. Constructed.'
But as wonder filled his mind, a chill crawled down his spine.
"What… is this?"
His eyes drifted down.
Blood soaked his clothes.
His hands.
His chest.
Dark crimson pooled beneath him, warm against the cold stone.
'It's mine. Definitely mine. But… I can't feel any pain.
The blood loss is too much. I should be dead… Am I dead already?'
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A Divine voice echoes faraway... Narada intrigued by the mysterious boy...
'Hm… noble attire, untouched by origin.
An Ice blue pair of pupils... Deep like an endless ocean.
A Wavy Hair with Inverted Silver black hue... Quite quirky i say.
A cross upon his left ear… faith, or a chain.
The dagger on his waist… Unremarkable to the untrained eye, yet it bears the mark of a dragon —power, dominion… or a forgotten oath.
No other weapons. No visible means of defense.
A boy stripped of name, memory, and life itself… Curious indeed…'
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Back to the present...
Panic threatened to surface—but his body refused even that.
His skin was pale and corpse-like, devoid of warmth.
A dead man, thinking.
"I feel strange… the blood loss is severe, but the wound seems to be closed — yet there is no warmth left in this body… just like a dead body."
'If this continues… this body will rot.
I'll die. Again.
Or perhaps—I already have.'
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Shortly before the boy opened his eyes, a mysterious figure arrived at the peak. After checking the body, he seemed to do something to the corpse and whispered into his ear…
"The rest is up to you, do not disappoint me…"
And he left scene quietly…
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Unseen by them, another figure crouched within the brush at the edge of the clearing, eyes narrowed in disbelief. The suspicious figure was watching everything carefully as the boy awakened.
'Impossible. I slit his throat. Cut his wrists. He should be a corpse. Did that guy do something ?'
The figure's jaw tightened.
'If Lord Archpriest hears of this… I'm finished.'
Steel Flashed…
Suddenly, a dagger came flying from the shadows, laced with killing intent.
The boy twisted instinctively, his body responding despite its lifeless state. The blade grazed past his cheek and embedded itself into stone.
"—!"
He rolled aside, barely managing to rise to one knee.
"Who's there?!" he shouted, voice echoing against the towering walls.
Laughter answered him—low and mocking.
"Oy! You deathless bastard! Why aren't you dead even after I slit your throat and wrists?"
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A man stepped out from the dark…
With a Scarred face, Ghostly pale complexion, purple hair and a frantic expression he asked,
"Tell me, did that man do something to you, is that why you revived?"
Recognition sparked in the assassin's gaze—but none returned from the boy's.
"Who… are you?" the boy asked, anguish creeping into his voice.
"You speak like you know me. Who is the man you are talking about? I don't remember anything."
The man grinned.
"Oh?"
He tilted his head mockingly.
"You really don't remember me? Peron? Your best companion?
His smile widened, sickening.
My cute little pet slave."
"Peron…? I don't know you" the boy whispered.
'I mean, I don't even know myself.'
For the first time, Peron hesitated.
"You… you really don't remember anything? Or are you trying to trick me, you cunning prick?"
As Peron said those words, he thought to himself:
'What is this? This boy doesn't remember the Church… This could work in my favor. Searching for that man comes second, but I must kill this boy at any cost, or my head will be in danger. The Archpriest will not tolerate failure.'
(Narad's opinion: This guy is the type to torture the weak and fear the strong - a typical psycho, which is the very disgusting kind that i hate the most)
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Meanwhile, inside the dome city
St. Christopher's Church, West District of the Royal Capital…
"Lord Archpriest, how is the Research Z progressing? I hope there are no hindrances."
A vibrant figure lighting candles before the divine as he spoke.
"Yes! My lord. The research is ongoing. We have not achieved any concrete results yet… but I believe we will succeed."
"We must pray to the Sacred. Lord Evan, our belief in Him will help us succeed in this research — and consequently protect the realm…"
After the mysterious figure left the hall, Archpriest Evan let out a long sigh of relief.
'What is that useless Peron doing? Why hasn't he reported the death of the escaped boy yet?
I can't even imagine what will happen if this matter reaches the ears of the Lord Bishop… He indulges in his worship of the Sacred to the point it's creepy… but just as terrifying.'
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Back to the top of the mountain…
"Slave #005 — it's time for your re-execution. I'd have loved to play with you more, but I'm under orders. So sorry… and goodbye, cutie."
The assassin rushed forward and launched the first killing strike.
"H-hey, stop! Why are you trying to kill me?! I don't even know you! Besides… I think I'm already dead!"
'This is bad… I have to do something, or I'm going to be killed for real this time.'
As the thought crossed his mind, the dagger pierced his abdomen before he could react.
But wait—something strange happened.
Even after being stabbed, the boy didn't feel pain.
Peron stabbed again.
And again.
Still, the boy did not react.
"You—what are you?" Peron snarled. "Why aren't you screaming?!"
That moment of hesitation was all it took.
In that split second of confusion, the boy moved.
Even as another dagger dug into his arm, he thrust his own dagger forward, clumsy and desperate.
Straight into Peron's heart.
The assassin froze, eyes wide.
Blood spilled from his mouth as he collapsed.
Silence reclaimed the mountain peak.
The boy stood there, trembling—not from pain, but from the resolve settling deep within his hollow chest.
He wiped blood from his face with shaking fingers.
"I don't know what's going on… but I'm not going to die here.
Not again.
Not without knowing who I am."
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Above him, the moon watched in silence.
And far away, forces already stirred—drawn by the existence of something that should not be.
------------------------------ Chapter 1: END ------------------------------