The wind dragged dry leaves across the empty roads of a forgotten village.
A sign hung loosely on its hinges, creaking with every passing gust. The people were gone—fled long ago when the Holy Knights declared martial law. Only the silence remained, heavy like an unwanted visitor.
At the center of this desolate place, under the skeletal frame of a dead tree, he sat.
A man in a tattered black cloak, hood drawn low, eyes staring at nothing. His back rested against the cracked trunk as if he might dissolve into it at any moment. In his lap rested a sheathed blade—the Blade of Stillness, Thanatos—but his hands lay motionless, limp at his sides.
His name, or what they called him now, was Acedia.
The 8th Sin.The Sin of Apathy.
"Are you just gonna sit there and rot?"
The voice cut through the quiet like a dull blade.
Acedia slowly, lazily, shifted his gaze. His grey eyes, rimmed with the shadows of sleepless nights, found the speaker.
A boy with messy blond hair stood before him, grinning. Meliodas, Captain of the Seven Deadly Sins.
Acedia recognized him instantly, though he made no effort to greet him.
"Meliodas," he murmured, voice dry as bone. "Still pretending everything's fine?"
Meliodas smirked, unbothered. "You haven't changed a bit, Acedia."
Acedia's lips twitched—not quite a smile, but not entirely dead either. "And you're still dragging people into pointless quests."
Meliodas crouched beside him, eyes gleaming. "Pointless? Nah. I'm putting the Sins back together. You're next on my list."
Acedia tilted his head back against the tree, staring into the grey sky. "Why bother?"
His tone wasn't sarcastic—it was honest. There was no malice behind the words, just cold disinterest. His heart had long since stopped beating for causes or camaraderie.
Acedia's Sin
Long ago, before his brand had been carved into his flesh, Acedia had once been human. But somewhere between his death in another world and his rebirth in Britannia, something fundamental had been lost.
He no longer cared. About anything.
The cracked hourglass sigil over his heart was a reminder of that. Time slipped away, but he stood still.
Meliodas sighed dramatically, leaning back on his heels.
"Come on, man. You're not seriously gonna make me beg, are you?" he said, lips curling into a playful grin.
Acedia's eyes half-lidded. "Begging implies I give a damn. I don't."
"You know," Meliodas shrugged, "that's kinda your whole thing."
Silence stretched between them.
Then, slowly, Acedia reached up and pressed two fingers against the scarred mark on his chest—the cracked hourglass. His breath came shallow, almost like he was forgetting to breathe entirely.
The Weight of Null Heart
His power simmered beneath his skin.Null Heart. The ability to cut away emotion like dead branches.
At any moment, he could drag Meliodas into his own grey world—a place without joy, sorrow, fear, or desire.But he didn't.
He was too tired for that.
Meliodas rose, brushing dirt off his knees. "Listen, you can sit here and rot if you want, but I'm getting the gang back together. Diane, Ban, King, Gowther, Merlin, Escanor—you remember them, right?"
Acedia closed his eyes. "I remember forgetting."
"Exactly!" Meliodas laughed, as if that made perfect sense. "So get up. We've got a kingdom to save."
Acedia let out a long, hollow sigh."You know I can't save anything, Captain. I'm the sin of not caring."
Meliodas tilted his head, smile fading just a little. "Maybe. Or maybe you're just scared to feel again."
The words hung in the air, heavier than any sword.
The First Step
After a moment, Acedia stood.
His movements were sluggish, like a puppet dragged by invisible strings. His cloak fluttered slightly as he adjusted the blade at his waist—the blade that cut not flesh, but spirit.
Thanatos gleamed faintly, as if in recognition.
"Fine," Acedia whispered, voice barely audible."I'll follow you. But don't expect me to care."
Meliodas grinned wide. "Wouldn't dream of it."
And so, the 8th Sin of Apathy joined the quest.Not because he wanted to.Not because he believed in it.But because doing nothing felt heavier than moving, for once.
And somewhere, deep in the hollow of his chest,something shifted.
(AN: Thisjust a character introduction)