**Earth - 3016 --- October**
"On this earth, sin began... and on it, it shall end."
**[Seventeen Years Ago]**
On a clear night, a beam of light split the heavens like a shooting star striking down demons of temptation. The air was biting, and the sky remained silent, save for the sound piercing through the darkness.
Somewhere, a girl stood by her window, gazing at the sky. Her features were obscured, but her eyes tracked the light as it soared. Suddenly, the light altered its course; a sense of dread washed over her. She pulled her elbow from the windowsill and stepped back as the light lunged toward her.
She rushed to a table and gripped a sword in her right hand. Before she could comprehend the situation, the light surged forward. She swung her blade, but the entity evaded her with ease, piercing through her abdomen.
It all happened in a flash. The girl collapsed, unconscious. Her heart slowed to a crawl, as if on the verge of total stillness. Minutes later, shadows entered the room—veiled figures moving in the gloom. No faces were seen, only silhouettes.
**[Sixteen Years Ago]**
• "Do not worry, this is but a child. I will care for him well, I promise you. He shall be as my own grandson."
The speaker wore a pitch-black robe, his identity hidden. Before him stood three figures: a child and two adults. Their forms were shrouded in darkness, their features erased by the shadows.
• "We rely on you... take good care of my child."
**[The Present]**
A piercing scream tore through the air, followed by ragged, desperate gasps. A nine-year-old boy was screaming with every ounce of strength he possessed. Helplessness and terror seeped into his bones; his heart hammered against his ribs. The boy had snow-white hair and coal-black eyes that shimmered with a mixture of horror and bewilderment.
• "Where are you?! Where are you?!"
His cries grew louder, his moans echoing as he wandered through hollowed houses and shattered roads. Every step weighed heavy with dread, the scent of ash filling his lungs. In his hand, he clutched a doll with a severed arm, its white stuffing spilling from its neck.
"Brother... where are you?"
Tears streamed from his wide eyes. His pale face had turned a scorched red from the searing heat, marked by fresh burns etched into his skin.
Fire was everywhere. The air was acrid, the stench of charred flesh mingling with the rising smoke as flames licked the alleyways. The inferno intensified within the streets of the great city, black clouds billowing toward the sky as if a divine curse had descended.
The streets were desolate, littered only with mutilated corpses. Not a single body remained whole—some were headless, some limbless, others mere torsos consumed by the heat. The boy continued his trek through the ruins, hearing nothing but his own voice and the crackling of the houses being devoured by the flames.
Suddenly, from the shadows of the collapsed walls, a black silhouette emerged, watching the child. It was impossible to tell if it was man or woman, human or something else entirely. It began to speak, but the words were distorted, a language foreign and incomprehensible.
• "Even if you flee to the ends of the earth, boy, I will find you. You cannot escape me... do not blame me; this is the fate that chose you."
The words drifted into the boy's ears, though he understood nothing. He spun around, seeing only fire and smoke. Trembling, he stammered, "Who... who are you?"
The mysterious figure appeared before him instantly, a towering shadow. It seized the boy by the throat and spoke in an arrogant, chilling tone: "Today, you shall taste a torment more hideous than death."
The boy's face flushed a deeper red as his breath was cut off. The dark entity smiled. With lightning speed, it ascended into the sky, carrying the boy into the black clouds. The boy couldn't utter a word; his tongue protruded from the sheer force of the grip on his neck.
The shadow looked down at the burning city. With a flick of its hand, the flames surged, and the heat intensified. Sweat poured from the boy; his clothes ignited, and his flesh began to melt.
"Haaaaaa!" The boy screamed as the shadow loosened its grip slightly.
"Aaaaaagh...!" His hair caught fire, and an unnatural agony surged through him. He let out a cry so primal that, had anyone in the city been alive, it would have frozen their blood.
"Aaaaaaagh... eeeee!" A strange, guttural sound erupted from the shadow: "Wa-wa-ghoul-u... Aow-a-oa."
The boy's hair was gone; he was left scorched and bald. The pain was beyond anything he had ever known. Finally, his mind gave way, and he drifted into unconsciousness.
Seeing the boy had fainted, the specter waved its hand again. The fires below subsided. It gestured toward the child, and miraculously, his hair, body, and clothes restored themselves to their original state.
The boy groaned and woke up. With his black eyes, he glared at the shadow through his agony. His muscles tensed, and his breath came in sharp stabs; the healing had not extinguished the pain.
.....!!!
Then, the torment began again... and again. His clothes melted, his body burned, his hair vanished, and the bones of his limbs were exposed. He lost consciousness once more.
Then he was healed. And the torment began a third time. The entity was systematically torturing the child. As for the reason—only the shadow knew.
The cycle repeated countless times. After a full day, though his body was healed, the boy did not wake. He lay like a hollow corpse.
The shadow spoke: "It seems his soul is fading."
Torturing a child in such a way was not for pleasure or malice; it was for a purpose the shadow sought to achieve. Having said that, it cast the boy back into the flames. As his body began to dissolve, something emerged from within him.
• "Finally... this agony is over."
Those were the words uttered by the thing that crawled out of the boy. The city vanished as if it were a mirage. The air cracked, the image of the world shattered, and nothing remained but darkness. In that void, a voice whispered: "Yousafer... Yousafer... Yousafer."
***
A young man snapped his eyes open, drenched in sweat, his breathing heavy and fast. He groaned, clutching his head, "Argh... my head."
"The same nightmares again?"
"Yes... it feels like my skull is splitting in two."
• "These nightmares have become quite troublesome lately. I wonder what's causing them?"
• "I wish I knew."
The young man lying down was **Yousafer**. He had thick, fur-like hair, black as a moonless night, and eyes that matched—or perhaps were even darker. His nose was sharp, and he wore black clothing accented with purple lines.
The other person was **Yuray**. He had white hair reaching his shoulders, and his eyes remained closed. His skin was pale, his frame lean, and he was dressed in white and silver.
• "Tomorrow we begin our journey. Let's hope we find the cause of these dreams."
Yousafer nodded. "But we must not forget the true purpose of our voyage."
Yuray smiled. "I know, I know... the **Remnants of War**, just as the old man said."
At the mention of the old man, a flicker of sadness crossed Yousafer's face.
• "Do you think we'll find them?" Yuray asked.
• "We will try. We'll do everything in our power."
Yousafer pulled an ancient book from beneath his pillow and stared at it.
"The Remnants of War... I wonder what they truly are," Yuray mused.
Yousafer replied, "We were young then. That's why the old man said we would only understand in the future. He forbade me from traveling until I turned seventeen. Tomorrow is the 19th of October... tomorrow, I enter a new year."
• "And hopefully, we'll find a cure for your nightmares. Let's not forget we are stuck at **Level One**; if we don't leave this island, we'll never find the path forward."
• "You're right. We need to find a way to raise our levels quickly... and find that bastard from my dreams. If he's real... I'll tear him apart."
Yousafer sat up and began flipping through the ancient book, a small smile appearing. "I have a goal I must achieve, no matter the cost."
Yuray smiled back. "Are you talking about that 'world' you saw in your first nightmare? I'm eager to see it. But can you really make this world like that one?"
• "We will try... even if we have to destroy this world to do it." Yousafer paused, then added, "That's why we must find the Remnants of War... everything is connected to them."
*Knock, knock, knock.*
• "Brother Yousafer! Brother Yuray! Are you there?"
• "Come in," Yuray said.
A young boy opened the door, his eyes bright. "The village chief is waiting for you at the shore!"
• "It seems they've finished the boat," Yousafer said.
Yuray nodded, "Just in time."
The two stepped out of the hut, greeted by the warmth of the sun and a bracing wind carrying the scent of the sea. Yousafer looked out over the village. Rows of wooden huts were scattered across the slope, topped with mounds of yellowed straw. Stone bricks lined the paths like hand-drawn lines through the landscape.
In front of every hut was a small garden enclosed by a simple fence. Medium-sized trees stood tall, their branches swaying slowly in the wind, dropping yellow leaves onto the thatched roofs. The village throbbed with life.
In the small fields, men toiled over the earth, plowing with a skill honed over generations. In the gardens, children ran tirelessly, laughing and chasing each other over the dew-slicked grass. The village was larger than one might expect—single-story homes stretching toward the horizon, the scent of damp soil mixing with hay and wood.
As they walked, a child perched atop a tall pole appeared. He wore a deer mask and held a violin—evidently a crude, self-made instrument, for it looked terrible, yet it managed to produce a melody. On the ground, girls lay as if unconscious, surrounded by beautiful flowers and small dolls.
• "Hahaha! I have taken your children, and I shall take them far away!" another boy shouted, laughing as he held a small insect-like toy.
Yousafer watched them and smiled, remembering the beautiful days he had spent here.
As soon as the children saw Yousafer and Yuray, the boy jumped from the pole, the girls "awoke," and the laughing boy went silent. They all rushed toward them.
• "Brother Yousafer! Brother Yuray! Why aren't you watching our play? It's amazing!"
Yuray chuckled, "We're busy, the village chief called for us."
He apologized to them, and one of the children said, "When you're done, you have to come back and watch!"
• "Deal," Yousafer said, giving them a thumbs-up.
They continued toward the trees, where the leaves were turning shades of pale orange and yellow, and soon reached the shore. It was quiet, the cold morning breeze mingling with the salt air. A small boat sat on the sand. Before it stood an old man in a straw hat shaped like half an orange, wearing green clothes. His face was a map of wrinkles, and he leaned on a small cane. Beside him stood two middle-aged men, who smiled at the sight of the pair.
• "Your boat is ready, boys."
Yousafer smiled and bowed slightly. "Thank you, Grandpa. We've been a burden to you."
• "Tsk! What are you saying, boy? You're one of us. No need for formalities. Tell me, do you like the boat?"
Yousafer and Yuray—despite his closed eyes—inspected it.
• "It looks good. As long as it gets us off this island and to the other side."
• "Don't worry, it'll hold. The distance isn't far; only forty kilometers to the West."
The island they lived on was modest—four kilometers long and one and a half wide.
• "Is it decided then? You leave tomorrow?" the old man asked.
Yousafer answered, "Yes. Tomorrow marks the end of our journey on this island."
The old man stared at them, memories of their childhood flashing before his eyes. Though sadness flickered in his expression, he quickly hid it. "Go on then. Get back and prepare yourselves. You have a long journey ahead."
As the old man walked away, Yousafer and Yuray watched his back, nostalgia gripping their hearts. This man had been everything to them.
Back inside the hut, Yousafer stood before a table with a map spread out, Yuray opposite him.
• "Are you sure about this map?" Yuray asked.
• "No. But we know there's a continent to the West. We'll head there. We can't trust this world blindly—that's what the old man emphasized."
As they spoke, a frantic shout came from outside: "Brother Yousafer! Brother Yuray!"
They rushed out to find the same boy from earlier, panting for breath.
• "What happened?"
• "There's a ship coming toward us!"
• "The Military?" Yuray asked sharply.
• "No! The flag... it's not the Church of the United Nations... it's the **Revolutionaries**! It's the same revolutionary who came three months ago and got beaten up by Brother!"
Yousafer smirked. "What? Did he come for a rematch?"
Yuray smiled. "It certainly seems so."
**End of Chapter**
*Enemy... or Ally?*