Chapter Two – Birth of the Villain
Amid the rubble and corpses sat Edward, his eyes drowning in the horrific scene. The first thing he heard was a terrifying silence, a silence that swallowed the noise which had torn the village apart moments before. The air was saturated with the stench of burning flesh and ash, as if death itself had settled in his chest.
He turned his head and saw what chills the soul: the half-burned bodies of his friends and neighbors, buried beneath the ruins, their faces frozen like statues of terror. He did not think, he did not hesitate, but began digging through the wreckage with his bare hands, searching for any breath that might restore his hope.
But what he found was his little sister's doll—burned, disfigured. He clutched it to his chest, tears pouring down as if they were the last remnants of life in this place. Beside the doll, he discovered the charred corpse of a noble, and next to it a sword lying on the ground, gleaming coldly amid the ash.
He hesitated for a moment, then gripped the sword with trembling hands, his voice cracking as he screamed:
"Why me? What did we do to deserve this? We lived in peace… No, I will not die here. It doesn't matter if I die later, but I will die tearing a hole in their pristine world."
Edward looked at the scene one last time, then lit a small fire as a farewell ritual, as though it were the final flame bidding goodbye to the departed souls. He raised the sword, but it reflected nothing but the ash around him. In that moment, Edward was no longer the simple boy—he became a child filled with sorrow and hatred, a child born of ashes.
With a voice dripping with rage, he declared:
"If those who corrupt and spill innocent blood call themselves heroes… then I am the villain who will destroy those heroes."
---