"A story to be told, a story to be heard; a tale with the power to summon the darkest echoes of our past. A time when humanity teetered on the brink of extinction, and the world itself stood at the precipice of ruin."
~Cesar lay motionless, broken upon the earth. The acrid stench of ash and desolation choked his every breath. The world was watching him; the world was watching them both. Through the flickering screens of the last standing cities, every soul bore witness to this titanic struggle against Hinaji—the undisputed lord of the Moon Faction, the gravest shadow humanity had ever known.
Even wounded, Hinaji looked down upon Cesar with cold certainty, the taste of victory already upon his tongue. He raised his hand toward a sky hemorrhaging clouds and lightning. From the celestial void, colossal, monstrous silhouettes began to coalesce. Cesar could not fathom their nature, yet he knew with a desperate, dying clarity that he had to find the strength to stop them.
The earth groaned and trembled as the gargantuan shapes grew larger, more terrifying, looming like executioners over Cesar's shattered frame. He closed his eyes as his strength ebbed away, but in that moment of absolute darkness, a fire ignited within his soul. It was the power that had marked him for a tragic end—the same force that had condemned the world to this brutal, unending war.
Cesar had long since forgotten the path that led him to this ruin, but fragments of the past still clawed at his mind, fighting to be remembered...~
Eight years before...
"He found himself in a vast, desolate wasteland—dark and shrouded in fog. The soil was yellowish and damp, with patches of greenish plants growing unevenly from the ground. He rolled his eyes upward, but saw nothing but blackness. Not a single star pierced the void above. All around, the landscape was wrapped in a swirling, purple mist that bubbled and churned. Then came a sudden, powerful gust of wind—it caught his attention. His instincts flared. Alert, he looked up. A monstrous creature soared through the fog, its wings slicing the air as it swept past jagged rock formations that jutted from the ground like claws."
He paused his story for a moment and let out a relaxed sigh. His eyelids grew even heavier.
"Grandpa? Are you falling asleep?" asked a child lying in bed.
"Hm? No, no, Cesar... I was just trying to remember the rest of the story," he replied with a chuckle. The weight of sixty-five years was beginning to show on Oldgure's body.
"You don't remember the rest? But you always tell me this story when I go to bed..." said Cesar, an eight-year-old boy, frowning.
Oldgure pulled his chair closer. "You're not sleepy yet?"
"But you're not even halfway through yet..." Cesar said.
After a sip of water, the old man picked up the tale. "Well... that brave warrior had finally realized he had reached the long-sought Vèiger—a land where the truth behind his origins was buried. At last, he was ready to uncover the roots of his past. An evil scoundrel had tried many times to keep him from setting foot in that cursed land... but now, all of that was behind him."
An unusual silence settled over the room. Cesar had heard that story hundreds of times, but it never bored him. Oldgure, struggling against drowsiness and a nagging pain in his ankle, smiled at the boy's wonder.
"Come now, Cesar... try to sleep. Dream about this story—fill it with your own details and wonders. That way, one day, you'll be able to tell it to your own grandchildren."
Cesar nodded and nestled under the covers. He slowly closed his eyes, drifting into a deep sleep.
"Goodnight, Cesar..."
Once he was sure the boy was fast asleep, Oldgure whispered: "Dream this story..."
Morning came, and Oldgure was awakened by the harsh glare of the sun. He had forgotten to close the "shutters"—the wooden boards he used to hide their existence from the world.
He headed toward Cesar's tiny room, finding the bed empty. Outside, he spotted a tuft of black hair—with a hint of red—peeking behind the window.
"Cesar? What are you doing out here?" he asked, rushing outside. The boy was staring intently at a point deep within the forest.
"I... I was just... nothing..." Cesar murmured, confused.
"Come inside, Cesar... you know it's dangerous to be out in the open."
Cesar obeyed. He knew his grandfather had been a wanted man for years. For eight years, they had lived in that tiny house, and Cesar had never set foot beyond its walls. He didn't fully understand why, but his grandfather's safety was enough to quiet his curiosity.
A few months later, Oldgure prepared for a supply run.
"Cesar, I'm heading to the nearby village. Stay inside."
"Yes, Grandpa!! We're doing training after, right??"
"Of course, Cesar," Oldgure replied, setting off toward the village.
At the village center stood a modest castle, visible from miles away. Oldgure went there to buy necessities with the little money he received from Yuusaba, a villager who had become a close, trusted friend. In the narrow, cobbled streets, Oldgure wasn't welcomed; people mocked his "strange tales" on the village stage. But Yuusaba saw something else in him. He knew about Cesar and felt a quiet responsibility to help.
Upon his return, Oldgure led Cesar to a small clearing hidden from view.
"Come on, Cesar..." Oldgure called out, frustrated. "Your power still shows no sign of emerging! You've got to push harder! Two years, and it feels like all this training is doing nothing."
He gasped for breath, leaning on his knees. Cesar's young body simply wouldn't cooperate with the "mysterious power" his grandfather obsessed over.
"Cesar... in a few days, I'll have to leave for a while... and I fear all this might have been for nothing."
"But why?" Cesar shot back. "I don't even understand why you're so obsessed with this power! I think it's all just... nonsense!"
Oldgure's face twisted into shock. "What? You were the one who wanted this training! And watch your tone."
"Yeah, but you won't even explain what this supposed power is!"
Oldgure let out a weary sigh. "That's enough. While I'm gone, you'll rest. Yuusaba will come by to check on you—you are not to leave the house under any circumstances."
He walked back inside, leaving Cesar stunned.
Then came the day that changed everything.
"Cesar..." Oldgure called. The boy peeked out, still ashamed of their argument. "As I told you, I'm leaving today for a short trip. I can't tell you anything about it, but I shouldn't be gone too long. Let me say it again: don't leave the house for any reason."
Cesar gave a small nod, hiding the concern in his eyes. He watched Oldgure's silhouette disappear, his throat tight with a vague sense of danger. Every instinct screamed at him to stop his grandfather, but his obedience kept him frozen.
A week passed. No sign of Oldgure. Panic began to twist in Cesar's gut.
Another three weeks dragged by. Cesar spent his days staring out the window at the distant castle—that looming fortress surrounded by high stone walls. It unsettled him, drowning him in wicked sensations. Oldgure had always avoided speaking of it.
"Please... don't go near it..." Cesar whispered to the empty room.
One morning, Yuusaba stopped by. He found Cesar sitting at the threshold, his expression hollow, eyes distant.
"...Cesar... I'm so sorry," Yuusaba finally said. "Oldgure told me he'd be gone for three days. It's been almost a month."
Time seemed to stop. Cesar looked down, resigned. He turned his eyes toward the castle walls, his sight clouded by sudden fear. He is not dead, he argued inwardly. He knew his grandfather was within that stone fortress.
But the truth remained: he was too young. Too weak.
He waited, day after day, until waiting was no longer enough. The door never opened again. And with it, the boy he once was began to fade. What he didn't know was that his story hadn't ended that day—it had only just begun.