chapter 1 – the boy with no name
cold.
it wasn't just physical. it wasn't the kind you could fight off by rubbing your arms or holding your breath.
this cold crept in slow, not through skin, but beneath it—like something reaching for his bones from the inside.
he opened his eyes.
darkness.
not the comforting kind you find when closing your eyes to sleep, but the kind that feels endless, like it's waiting to swallow you whole.
there was no sky. no sun. no stars. only cracks—long, jagged lines running across the black above, glowing faintly like broken glass stretched over a dying light.
it looked like reality itself was stitched together by something insane.
or something desperate.
he lay there for a long time, staring, unblinking.
his body didn't hurt, but it didn't feel real either. numb.
he didn't know his name.
he didn't know where he was.
he didn't even know what he was before this moment.
> was i human?
> was i alive?
he tried to speak, but nothing came out. his voice felt... gone. like it had been taken from him in a trade he couldn't remember making.
and then, it spoke.
> "you are pride."
the voice came from nowhere. not loud, not harsh—just... there.
whispering beside his ear as if the darkness itself had leaned in to greet him.
he flinched.
and suddenly, he could feel the ground beneath him: soft, pulsing.
not dirt. not stone. something that throbbed, like a heartbeat beneath his palms.
he forced himself to sit up.
his hands trembled. his limbs were thin. he looked at them like they belonged to someone else.
around him, the landscape stretched endlessly. black soil. pale trees. everything twisted slightly—like the world had been drawn by a madman with shaking hands.
a mirror stood a few steps ahead.
tall. spotless. wrong.
he approached it slowly, barefoot on the cold, twitching earth.
his reflection waited for him.
and then, it smiled.
he didn't.
his eyes looked tired. lifeless. but the thing in the mirror smiled as if it knew something he didn't. like it had been here longer. like it had watched him fall.
> "you will break."
"you must."
he pressed his hand to the mirror.
it smiled wider.
then—
crack.
the glass spiderwebbed beneath his palm. light bled out of it, thin and white, leaking into the cracks like liquid thought.
then—
shatter.
and everything around him broke.
the sky, the earth, the trees, the very concept of place dissolved into noise and color and pain. and he was falling—not through space, but through himself, through his own mind, and it hurt.
he screamed.
except no sound came out.
only silence.
and then—
a voice again, not one but many, layered over each other like echoes in a haunted room.
> "you are pride."
> "you will walk among the sins."
> "survive, and your madness will become your power."
> "fall, and your name will disappear forever."
he hit the ground again.
new ground.
rougher. colder.
the scent of ash and rust in the air.
and far in the distance—figures. six of them. standing like statues beneath a flickering sky.
watching.
waiting.
his body shook.
his mind whispered things he didn't understand.
memories that weren't his. thoughts that came too fast.
his breath caught in his throat.
but then—something inside him clicked.
not confidence. not courage. something darker. something stubborn.
he stood.
alone.
broken.
and unnamed.
but in that moment, he didn't care.
because he could feel it.
deep down, something inside him was screaming to get out.
and whatever it was—it wasn't sane.