Chapter 1: The End

  “Narrator speaks the prologue:”

  In deep darkness, the infinite prevailed. No beginning. No end. Nothing.

  But out of nothing flickered a thought. A spark. The creation reached for it – and formed two worlds out of it. One of light. The other of darkness.

  Then came the destruction. It gave them power. A power that does not build, but divides.

  It was followed by space and time. And with them a gift that changed everything: the soul. It brought thoughts, memories, dreams – and doubt. Doubt, born of what was imposed on them: a written destiny. An eternal war. Not to win, but to entertain.

  Thus began the endless battle between angels and demons. It lasted. Without end. Without mercy.

  And from the restlessness of these two forces, infinity longed for something new. Something that brings balance. Thus a third world was created: the world of humans.

  A place without hatred, without power – only with peace. It was small. Inconspicuous. Mortal. But in its weakness lay something hidden that neither light nor shadow could comprehend.

  For where neither victory nor defeat counts, balance can be born – or broken. And when balance breaks, even that which seemed infinite becomes finite.

  “Prologue over”

  The glaring light of the full moon lay over the world of men like a veil. The ground was soaked with blood, the sky heavy with smoke and sorrow. The war had long since claimed its victims – and yet there was no end in sight. The eternal struggle began anew, as if it had never stopped.

  In the midst of this chaos stood a man. His robe was long, light, and seemingly untouched by the horror around him. His face was hidden by the shadow of a deep hood.

  It was silent. A moment frozen in time. Then a shout broke the silence, a scream carried on the wind, born of desperation:

  “Death to the Divinity!”

  The man raised his head slightly. His gaze wandered in the direction from which the shout had come. Without a word, without hesitation, he set himself in motion.

  He walked slowly, but purposefully. Step by step through the burning battlefield. Passing angels, demons – and humans.

  Then he saw him. A small boy. Barely older than ten. Badly wounded. His body trembled, his face was covered in blood. But there was something burning in his eyes that was stronger than fear.

  “...death of... divinity...”, the boy whispered with a hoarse voice. It was all he had left: a scream in the midst of doom.

  The man stopped in front of him. The wind rose, grabbed his robe, and pulled back the hood. The light of the full moon fell on his face. It was calm. Determined. There was a golden shimmer in his eyes.

  The boy looked up. His lips trembled, but then he asked quietly, “Who are you?”

  The man knelt down and held out his hand. “Come. I'll take you away from here.” There was a gentle, peaceful smile on his face.

  The boy hesitated for a moment, then reached for the hand and allowed himself to be lifted up.

  The man looked into the distance for a moment, then back at the boy. “My name is unknown to me. But you can call me... Fugare.”

  He lifted Tashi onto his back, turned around – and walked away. Away from the flames. Away from death.

  Four hundred years passed.

  In a remote village called Sadek, the sun slowly sank behind the trees, as if to bid farewell to the world for today.

  In the village square, a small boy ran excitedly back and forth while the villagers gathered in front of the house of the eighth Fugare – the head of Sadek.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  They waited anxiously for good news. And yet there was a tense silence in the air.

  All eyes were fixed on the entrance. A man stood there, erect, arms folded, eyes alert.

  Takeshi. The Fugare's right hand.

  Suddenly, a scream broke the silence. A newborn.

  Takeshi didn't hesitate. He opened the door.

  And there the eighth Fugare stepped out – in his arms a child, wrapped in white cloths.

  With a firm, clear voice he spoke to the assembled crowd: “It is done. Ariella has given birth to her son. And his name will be known in all the worlds: Shin Juuji.”

  A murmur went through the crowd. Then cheers. Smiling faces. Tears of relief.

  In the midst of this cold world, a new spark had been born.

  Fugare looked up and smiled gently. “Shin is a gift. Another light for our village. May he live a long life – and always carry Sadek in his heart. Let us toast and honor this day with a celebration.”

  Night had fallen. Torches were lit, music sounded, voices filled the air with joy.

  But deep inside the house, all was quiet.

  Fugare slowly made his way down a long, narrow hallway. At the end stood a door, ajar. A faint light shimmered through it – flickering and warm.

  Candles cast dancing shadows on the walls, which were adorned with four old pictures. The light touched them one after the other:

  A lotus flower. A scale – carried by a human with an angel on one shoulder and a demon on the other. The symbol of infinity. And the fourth picture... lay in the shadows. Hidden. Concealed.

  Fugare entered the room. Ariella was lying on the bed. Exhausted, but smiling, she held the newborn in her arms – little Shin.

  Fugare was wearing a necklace, the pendant of which he held in his hand. A simple zero.

  His eyes were soft as he approached. “Ariella... how do you feel?”

  She smiled and looked up at him. “It's incredible... I can hardly believe that he is alive and well.”

  He sat down at her side and nodded. “Don't worry. He will achieve great things – and make you proud. And until that day... I will protect him. As Fugare of Sadek.”

  Ariella looked at her child. For a moment, everything was still. Peaceful.

  Then the light flickered. The warmth vanished. Colors distorted, the image became blurred. A cough. A jolt. Blood on Ariella's lips.

  And suddenly – darkness.

  A new place. Or the same one, destroyed.

  Sadek was on fire. Fire was eating through the houses. Smoke shrouded the sky. The inhabitants lay dead in the streets.

  Suddenly, a figure appeared above the crescent moon.

  A creature whose mere presence stifled all resistance: a demon.

  His appearance paralyzed body and mind. Panic seized the few who were still standing. Some screamed – but the silence that followed was louder than any scream.

  A family ran. The next moment – torn apart. Only blood remained. And ashes.

  A huge tongue of flame erupted in the center of the village. The Fugare's house collapsed. Only a single wall remained standing.

  Behind it: Fugare. Covered in blood. Panting. Next to him – the young Shin.

  Shin's gaze was empty. Motionless. Sunken in a pool of blood.

  The Fugare fought for breath. With his last ounce of strength, he whispered: “Your story... will not end here. I will protect you. Forever.”

  Slowly, he pushed himself up. His legs trembled. And yet – he walked.

  Suddenly, a bright light flooded everything in brightness. A moment that swallowed everything.

  Shin's eyes shot open. The sun blinded him. Reflexively, he raised his hand to protect himself – or perhaps to reach for something that had long since passed.

  “...A dream?” he whispered.

  Shin continued to look into the endless blue sky. The sun was high, its rays seemed warm, almost peaceful – and yet it seemed as if this light was asking a question he didn't understand. “What are you trying to tell me?” he whispered into the wind, which gently stroked through the tall grass. His thoughts were still confused. Fragments. Shadows. Memories that felt like dreams. And dreams that burned like memories.

  Slowly, he stood up. His movements were heavy, as if every fiber of his body was still attached to the night that never quite let go of him. He looked around one last time, taking in the peaceful silence that lay over the place – so still that it was almost noisy. Step by step, he approached the gravestone where he had slept. The stone was simple, gray, marked by time and weather. And yet the letters shone clearly: Mama + Papa.

  Shin's hand slid over the writing, so carefully, as if he were afraid of disturbing it. He looked at the names for a long time, and in his eyes was reflected not only sadness, but also something else – a determination that grows only in those who have lost everything. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes briefly, and then turned around. His gaze wandered over the wide field, over the countless gravestones that seemed to inscribe themselves into the ground like a silent army of remembrance. For a moment, it seemed as if he was nodding to each and every one of them.

  “I thank you... for everything,” he said softly, but with a firm voice. “As the only survivor of Sadek, I will carry your stories in my heart. Forever. *Anu* (Anu ~ A word preached by the first Fugare that gave the people strength). It was a promise – one that meant more than words could ever say.

  Now it was certain. Shin was alone. The last one standing. A tragic victim of a world that had swallowed him up before he could even understand what it was. But he had not only seen death. He had survived. And somewhere in that survival, there was a spark that was more than mere memory.

  He closed his eyes, let the air into him once more – and then he fell backwards. The sky above him remained clear, but out of nowhere a dark fog suddenly formed. Silent, like a shadow without origin, it spread. It reached for Shin, enveloped him, embraced him like a veil of oblivion. And then – it swallowed him whole.

  Only one last voice could still be heard. It came from deep inside, as if echoing through space and time, carried by both hope and pain:

  “One day... we will all meet again. Please wait for me that long.”

  Then the fog fell. Slowly, silently, like ashes. It descended on the ground of the cemetery, covering the silence with darkness – and nothing remained.