Eighteen years ago, in Henry's past life.
A life before beasts and mana cells. A life before gods and overpowered mothers. A life where he was simply a fragment born of necessity.
It was only a week after Henry was born. And his mother and father had been called to the hospital concerning a condition diagnosed in their baby.
The sterile, blinding white walls of the pediatrician's office smelled sharply of antiseptic and lavender room spray.
Henry's mother, Grace Mercer held her baby boy tightly against her chest, her knuckles white as she gently rocked him. She was a beautiful woman with dark hair and green eyes. Beside her, her husband sat rigid, his jaw clenched as the specialist reviewed the brain scans and psychological evaluations of their child.
