In a completely dark, ever-moving space resembling a cube filled with the waters of the deepest sea, letters float in the air.
They are written in an unknown language, yet somehow, they are perfectly understandable. The first sentence reads:
"At some point, we all begin our path. But in your case, it's different. It's as if you started it long, long ago,I can't even see it. That has caught my attention. So tell me: would you like to know the truths about this world, about your path?"
Just below the phrase, suspended in the air and glowing like flames, two options appear:
[Yes] [No]
The boy, startled, murmurs in a barely audible whisper, as if the words don't quite want to leave his lips:
"Two options? What does this mean? What is 'the truth' supposed to be about all this?"
Perplexed and trapped by the strange situation unfolding before him, a shiver runs down his spine. The sensation rises slowly, crawling into the depths of his mind, where terror takes root as he contemplates the incomprehensible magnitude of the question.
After a pause that feels like an eternity, his trembling lips part to utter a single word:
[Yes]
The moment the boy makes his choice, the strange space around him begins to transform. The floating letters dissolve, rearranging themselves into a new message:
"Very well. I see you are someone decisive. For now, we will part ways. But don't worry—the answer you seek will come soon..."
Before he can fully process the words, he feels his body being pulled into an infinite void. The dark space crumbles around him, disintegrating into countless tiny fragments until nothing remains.
His vision fades completely, plunging him into absolute darkness.
-Inside some Hotel-Like room-
"Was all of that... a dream? What were those letters? Where was I?" he asks himself, his voice trembling with anxiety.
Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream echoes inside his head:
'RAAAAAAAA.'
Fleeting, horrifying images invade his mind. He sees himself tearing at his own skin, ripping every piece of flesh from his body, while a tormented scream escapes his mouth—a howl so inhuman it could drive anyone mad.
"What is happening? Why am I seeing this? Why am I hearing this?!"
The vision shifts. From a third-person perspective, he watches himself. His body is covered in blood and viscera, painting the room in grotesque streaks. Every movement is agonizing torment, and he can feel the pain as though it is happening to him in real time.
The agony threatens to overwhelm him, pushing him to the brink of collapse. But slowly, excruciatingly, the pain begins to fade. Over the next ten seconds, it dissipates entirely, leaving him in eerie silence.
"What... what was all of that?" he stammered, his voice shaking. "I don't even know where I am. Wait... who am I?"
His breath quickens as panic takes hold.
"W-why can't I remember anything? Am I in a room? A hotel? This doesn't feel like a regular bedroom."
He forces himself to take a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts.
"Calm down. Think. What's the last thing you remember?"
His mind keeps circling back to the same question.
"I can't stop thinking about that dream. What happened to me? The only thing I remember is that empty space... Of course! The question:
'Would you like to know the truths about this world, about your path?'
It should help, but not only do I not have the answer—I don't know anything right now. I guess I should investigate this room... and whatever's outside it."
Determined to act, he steps through the only door in the room.
But what he finds is not a hallway, nor another room. He steps onto a completely green hill. The vast blue sky stretches endlessly above, and there is nothing to hear except the gentle whisper of the wind.
He observes the landscape for a long, silent moment. Finally, he turns around—only to find that the "room" he had just left has vanished completely.
"What...? This is all too strange," he mutters. "I guess the only thing left to do is keep moving. I don't think 'he' or 'she'—whoever they are—will give me any answers if I just stand here doing nothing."
He turned around once more, watching as the sky and clouds moved slowly, with a serene yet unrelenting rhythm. A breeze passed in front of him, tousling his jet-black hair—neither short nor long—and leaving it even messier than before. One last time, before embarking on his journey, he let out a deep sigh. He rubbed his eyes, almost hidden beneath his unruly hair, and offered a smile that even himself doesn't know why he did—an extravagant smile...
-Amidst a hill as green as an emerald-
"I've been walking for hours, yet I don't feel tired at all. I'm not even a little hungry; it's as if I'm still dreaming."
As he fully descends the hill that stretched before him, his eyes settle on a massive stone monument. Standing approximately fifty meters tall, it's wide enough to be clearly visible even from the distance that separates them.
"It's the first thing to break the monotony of this path since I began. From here, it looks like a statue. I should go and investigate... it seems to be about five kilometers away. It doesn't look too far."
Reaching the statue, its true form begins to take shape. It depicts a human figure with a slender body and benevolent features. The only things that distinguish it from a human are its ears and hair: long and pointed, but surrounded by feathers, and hair cascading like a waterfall, with what seems to be a "symbol" resembling two wings engraved upon it.
"It looks like a statue built to honor someone ancient. A god? I don't even remember how they were described."
In front of the statue, a sort of tombstone stands with an inscription that reads:
"In honor of 'Keros', demigod of ***, son of ***, the bearer of the 'northern staff,' the eighth of the twelve celestial wanderers who roam the world, displaying his protection, generosity, love, and perfection to mortals."
"The Supreme Authority of the Heavens;
Sovereign of the sky, the firmament and the cosmos;
He who shelters the weary under his sacred wings."
"There are several parts where the text is illegible. 'Keros'? I've never heard that name before. Demigod? Twelve celestial wanderers? Why have I never heard of those titles? That staff refers to the north… Could I be in the northern part of a continent? Is 'Keros' a deity worshiped here? The fact that the statue is in such good condition means someone must be maintaining it regularly. This might mean there's a civilization not far from here."
With these thoughts, his spirits rose significantly. He began to formulate all the questions now swirling in his mind, questions that perhaps someone else could answer for him.
As he continues his journey, a figure emerges in the distance—a shadow watching him intently. It holds a slender spear adorned near its tip, and its height, around 190 to 195 centimeters, gives it an imposing presence. Its features are benevolent, almost like those of a messiah wandering the world, offering aid to those in need.
The figure's attire is simple: a pair of pants cut at the knees, torn and dirtied as if marked by the world itself. Around its neck hangs a pendant with a turquoise gem the size of a marble, its beauty mesmerizing enough to captivate even the most indifferent. Its face is refined, its abs defined, bearing the marks of continuous exertion.
Its eyes, a pure blend of green and blue, shimmer with an allure that could captivate even the least inclined. Its hair, a straw-gold cascade, falls in waves like a waterfall, while its pointed ears twitch faintly, exuding an almost otherworldly grace.
"I wonder who that young man could be. It's strange to see someone in this land or to be unable to see someone's future—unless they're mages of the highest order, Adones or beings equivalent to them. But someone like that… there can't be more than a hundred of them in the entire 'world'. Besides, I know nearly all of them. Perhaps it could be amusing to follow closely and see what he does next…"