I have nothing.
I have no path.
I have no freedom.
I have no emotions.
I am just a pawn in his hands.
Rain punished the world.
It carved the road into mud and rot, soaked the forest until the air itself stank of decay. Thunder growled low, heavy with hatred, as if the sky despised the man walking beneath it.
A young man walked alone.
Tall. Perfect. Deadly.
His body was forged like a blade—broad shoulders, narrow waist, long muscles stretched tight with lethal grace. A long black coat clung to him, drenched and dragging like a burial shroud. Every piece of clothing he wore was black, as if color had long abandoned him.
His face was beautiful in a lifeless way.
Sharp jaw. Thin nose. Pale skin. Eyes blue and empty, colder than steel. Long black hair streamed down his back, rain threading through it like veins.
Long sword dragging through the mud which was ¾ of his height,
There was no smile.
There had never been one.
His voice cut through the rain, hollow and flat.
"I have nothing."
"I have no path."
"I have no freedom."
"I have no emotions."
"I am just a pawn in his hands."
Then—
Laughter.
Broken,
"Hahahahahahahahaha—"
It echoed through the forest, crawling along bark and bone.
The Continuum Bastard.
The one who owned him.
I was his weapon.
He commanded. I slaughtered.
He named. I erased.
Refusal meant death—my death. He could end me with a thought, erase me like dirt from his fingers.
I didn't remember when I became his pawn.
I only remembered the count.
10,089 dead.
The world named me for it.
Slaughter Mercy.
Drazel stopped walking.
Agony detonated inside him.
A violent shock tore through his body, forcing blood from his mouth. He bent forward, and spit out the blood .
"You worthless bastard!" he roared at the sky.
"Can't you see that bastard escaped?!"
Another shock slammed into him.
Inside his mind, words burned into existence:
"He is here."
Drazel's hand tightened on the sword.
One step.
One swing.
The blade came down.
Reality split.
The road vanished. The forest vanished. Trees, stone, earth—erased, sliced clean into nothing. All that remained was a vast stretch of naked land.
The ground ruptured.
A figure burst out.
A young man with horns curling from his skull.
Before he could rise—
Drazel was already there.
A hand like iron closed around the horned man's neck.
He was lifted off the ground in a single motion, feet kicking uselessly in the air.
"Don't move," Drazel said coldly.
The horned man froze.
Slowly, carefully, he raised his hands.
"Interesting," he said, voice strained but amused.
"So you really are different."
Drazel's grip tightened.
"Talk."
The horned man coughed, then reached out and pressed something cold into Drazel's palm.
An iron fragment bracelet.
"He will weaken during the Moon Reverse," the horned man said quickly.
"When that time comes, you'll know what to do. Use this… and come find me."
Drazel's eyes narrowed.
"Why should I believe you?"
A thin smile crept onto the horned man's face.
"Believe me or don't. Your freedom doesn't wait."
He leaned closer, horns almost touching Drazel's forehead.
"If you want to live—use it."
The sword flashed.
Slash.
The horned man's head fell.
Blood painted the empty land.
Silence returned.
The bracelet slipped from Drazel's fingers and hit the dirt.
He stared at it.
A trap.
Everything was always a trap.
His hand trembled.
Then—
Something cracked open in his chest.
Hope.
Ugly. Dangerous. Alive.
For the first time in his existence.
Grinding his teeth, he picked up the
bracelet and stored it away.
A voice filled his mind:
"Do you really think that will free you from me?"
Drazel's eyes hardened.
This is the first time you've spoken to me without ordering death.
Then this is the path.
He turned and walked forward across the ruined land.
"As long as hope exists…" he muttered,
"I will slaughter everything in my path."
His voice dropped, sharp as steel.
"I will tear my freedom out of your mouth Continuum Bastard ."
The rain continued to fall.
The world remained silent.
"Remember my name."
"I am Drazel Kenzo."