The first thing he felt was cold.
Then light—harsh, blinding, like a star had cracked open in front of him.
Raen Valor opened his newborn eyes, and the world greeted him not with joy, but with pain.
A breath.
A scream.
Life returned not as a gift—but a curse.
---
"He's crying!"
"Quick, wrap him in something! He's freezing!"
Raen felt large, calloused hands lift him from bloodstained linen. His tiny body, no longer a soul echoing in void, now belonged to flesh. Weak, soft, alive.
His father's voice—deep, tired, cracking with relief—rang in his ears.
"…he's alive… thank the stars…"
Raen did not understand the words.
But something inside him—something far older than language—remembered.
---
The Father
His name was Caan Valor.
A man with ash on his shoulders, scars down his back, and eyes like broken steel. Not a soldier anymore, but not yet a man at peace.
He held Raen close, ignoring the blood, ignoring the tears.
"My son…" he whispered. "You'll be stronger than me."
"Stronger than this cursed land."
Raen blinked.
Something twisted in his infant chest.
The first seed of hunger.
---
Three Years Later
The village of Graye Hollow rested at the edge of the world—crushed between fog-covered peaks and forests so quiet they made your bones itch.
No maps marked it.
No nobles taxed it.
The only thing that visited was the wind.
And sometimes, things that walked in it.
Raen, now three, watched the snow fall from the window of their small home.
His mother—Leyla—sang softly behind him as she stirred stew. Her voice was low, tired, but warm.
His father sat at the table, sharpening a rusted hunting knife.
Raen didn't speak much. He learned to walk before he learned to cry. He watched. Listened.
And sometimes, dreamed.
---
The Dream
It always began the same.
A black blade floating in a sea of stars.
A throne—shattered.
A voice.
> "Do you remember yet, Devourer?"
He would wake up in cold sweat.
Sometimes crying.
Once, he woke up screaming in a language he'd never heard.
His parents thought it was a nightmare.
But Raen knew—
It was a memory.
---
The First Echo
His power didn't awaken with fire.
It didn't roar.
It whispered.
He was alone, chasing shadows in the trees behind the house when it first happened. A rabbit—small, twitching—lay half-dead from a fox's bite.
Raen crouched beside it.
He touched it.
And in that moment, something reached out from within him.
Not a spell.
Not mana.
A pull.
Like a thread of memory unraveling from the rabbit's dying mind.
And he consumed it.
---
And Then He Knew
The rabbit's fear. Its hunger. The cool sensation of burrowed earth. The scent of root and rot. Its final terror, the snap of teeth—
All of it rushed into Raen like a storm.
He fell back, vomiting.
Crying.
But beneath it all—he smiled.
"I remember…"
---
He Was Not Alone
The next day, a strange figure appeared at the edge of the woods.
Cloaked in torn black robes. Masked. Silent.
Raen saw him before anyone else.
Their eyes met.
And Raen felt it.
Another Echo Walker.
Another Devourer.
The man bowed slightly.
Then vanished into mist.
Raen never told his parents.
But that night, he dug through the ashes of the fireplace and carved a symbol into the wood with a coal-sharpened stick.
A symbol he didn't know.
But his soul did.
---
The System That Wasn't
It was not a status screen.
Not a glowing HUD like in the stories of hunters or awakened.
It was a presence.
Raen began to feel it the way one feels cold before snow falls. Like instinct. Like gravity.
Words appeared in his dreams.
> [Name Core: Fragmented]
[Resonance Level: Sub-Human — Awaiting Inheritance Awakening]
[Primary Sin: Gluttony of Memory]
One word always pulsed in red:
> [THRONEBREAKER: PATH LOCKED UNTIL NAME RECLAMATION]
He had no idea what it meant.
But the more memories he absorbed—from dead birds, crushed bugs, even rotting meat—the more he changed.
---
Leyla Noticed First
She found him in the back of the house, eating raw animal organs with terrifying calm.
His eyes were wrong.
Too knowing.
Too old.
She screamed.
Caan came running.
Raen didn't flinch.
He just said:
"I want to understand what it felt when it died."
---
They Didn't Speak of It Again
The next day, they burned the carcass.
And Raen never ate raw meat again—while they watched.
But something between them began to shift.
Leyla held him less.
Caan trained longer in the woods.
Raen understood.
He was different.
Even now.
Even here.
Especially here.
---
In the Cold, a Laughing Shadow
That night, while the village slept, Raen stood under the moonlight.
And somewhere, far away, he heard a voice.
> "You remember now, don't you, little heir?"
It wasn't the Demon God.
It was something else.
Older.
Hungrier.
A laugh followed.
And the wind carried the scent of blood.
---
To Be Continued.....