When Fuku opened his eyes, the world had changed. The golden light of Idunn's fruit was gone, replaced by a pure, almost blinding white. He was alone. Completely alone.
Around him stretched an endless frozen forest: black trees with frost-covered branches, twisted and menacing, their silhouettes clawing at the low, gray sky. The snow crunched beneath his feet, the ice reflected his figure like a fragile ghost, and each step echoed like a tolling bell in a frozen tomb.
The wind whistled through the trunks, a cold, almost sentient murmur that seemed to watch his every move. The forest was not merely cold, it was alive, and every shadow seemed to harbor a danger designed to test him.
Fuku felt the cold bite into his bones, freeze his lungs, and pierce his flesh. Every step was an effort; every breath, a pain. And yet, something inside him still burned: the Power of the Fruit.
He raised his hand: the Golden Finger glowed faintly, pulsing with a soft, warm light amidst the ice. A new sensation coursed through his veins, a current of heat and power. The fruit didn't just give him strength and endurance… it made him immortal. Every strike, every frostbite, every gust of icy wind was almost meaningless against him.
And that wasn't all. A fraction of divinity stirred within him, an ancient, almost sentient energy that instinctively manifested to protect him. A twisted branch fell toward him: before he could react, it froze mid-air, suspended by an invisible force. Cracks in the ice sealed themselves. Razor-sharp roots bent aside as if obeying a divine instinct. The fruit had activated to keep him alive.
Fuku stopped and took a deep breath. He could feel every fiber of his being vibrating with this power, but he also understood something cruel:
— I was arrogant… he murmured. — I thought I could defeat Apollon. Me, a mere mortal…
The glow in his golden eyes intensified. For the first time, he saw his weakness clearly. He had dared to challenge a solar god with nothing but the fruit as his ally, relying on his skill and audacity. The truth struck him: he was nothing before a deity… not yet.
And yet, this weakness carried an unexpected gift: it awakened his vigilance. He could no longer afford arrogance. Every step, every movement, every decision had to be precise. And the latent divinity of the fruit would guide him, protect him, as long as he was careful and respected his new power.
As he pressed deeper into the frozen forest, Fuku felt his resilience grow. The cold was no longer merely an enemy, it was an ally. It sharpened his senses, honed his patience, and tested his control. The forest seemed vast, endless… but it could not kill him. Not now.
— Very well… he murmured, clenching his fists. — If this is where I must be reborn… then this forest will make me stronger. Smarter. Immortal.
And as the icy wind howled around him, the Golden Finger glowing like a beating heart of gold in the pure white, Fuku finally understood: the real battle would only begin once he had learned to master the divinity within him.