Chapter 1: Awakening in the Bloodied Valley
I was exhausted—drained of strength, as if life itself had been wrung from my veins. I knew nothing... remembered nothing, save for a single thing: my name—Clark. Nothing more.
Around me stretched a silent valley, steeped in a stench so vile it choked every breath I took. Blood. The scent of blood hung thick in the air. Corpses were strewn about as if death had thrown a grand celebration here.
Beside me... someone had awakened before I did. His features were strange, and his behavior even stranger. His eyes gleamed with a childish madness, and a wide, unnerving smile seemed permanently carved into his face. Yet despite his madness, something about him made me feel safe. I don't know why. There was something familiar... something that made me feel I wasn't alone.
My body felt unusually powerful—tense muscles, heavy limbs—as if I had fought a lifetime of battles. But the wounds covering my arms and chest whispered a different story... the tale of a war I couldn't remember.
A strange voice tore me from my thoughts:
> "I feel a weird sense of familiarity with you... I don't know why, but... my name's Jean. What's yours?"
He tilted his head slightly as he spoke, eyes wide with wonder, watching me like a child uncovering a new toy. That mad smile never faded. Yet beneath his excitement, I saw it—his muscles were coiled, ready; his hands trembled, almost imperceptibly.
Before I could answer, something odd caught my attention: each of us carried a shield—entirely different in design and aura, like they had come from clashing worlds. A strange curiosity stirred in me, one I couldn't explain.
After a long silence, the words finally escaped the void:
> "...I'm Clark."
---
Jean let out a heavy sigh, his voice low and laced with discomfort.
> "Yeah, I noticed... It's really strange."
The night hung heavy over their souls. The air was stifling, saturated with the foul stench of rotting blood. Even the beasts, it seemed, had fled the valley, unable to bear the festering decay.
Jean stood slowly, a flicker of frustration flashing in his eyes, though they still held a restrained awareness. He spoke:
> "I think you're like me... You can't stand this disgusting smell, can you?"
Clark rose with effort, his body aching with unfamiliar strength. He scanned their surroundings and asked:
> "Where are we going? Don't you find it strange to move on when we know nothing? Everything is a blank slate, and you're already thinking of moving forward?"
Jean's gaze turned sharp—cold and suffocating, like a creature born from the void. He raised his eyes toward the full moon dancing confidently among the stars, then murmured, more to himself than to Clark:
> "I'm heading to the City of Childhood... I don't know why, but fragments of memory pulled me there. The path, though... I can't recall it. Still, isn't it better than staying in this hellhole?"
Clark remained silent for a moment, then sighed:
> "You're right. We might run into someone... and they might think we caused this massacre. We should leave the battlefield. Immediately."
Jean's lips twisted into a wild, crooked smile.
> "Then... let's go, hahaha!"
Clark smiled back despite his exhaustion, and followed with steady steps.
---
Travel wasn't difficult; their bodies moved with a strange instinct, as if battle coursed through their veins instead of their minds. Crushing beasts in the forest came too easily—it surprised even them.
But life in the wild wasn't just about easy fights…
The rain was relentless. The firewood, soaked and useless. And the food... completely raw.
Jean frowned, face twisted in disgust.
> "Damn it... I'm sick of scorpion-lion meat. It's the worst."
Clark snapped, waving his hand angrily:
> "You lunatic! Didn't you see how it shoots lightning from its tail?! I told you—let it cook the meat with its own damn electricity, but your brain's too busy chopping
Jean clenched his teeth in disgust, his voice low and tense:
> "Yeah… I noticed it too. It's really strange."
Night smothered the world in a suffocating gloom. The air reeked of decayed blood—so strong and repulsive that even the forest creatures had vanished, as if they'd sensed that this valley no longer belonged to the living, but to something else.
Jean rose slowly, his body stiff, muscles taut as though he were a moment away from bursting. He turned toward Clark with a mocking tone:
> "I guess you're like me… can't stand this putrid stench either, huh?"
Clark pushed himself off the ground, stretching like a beast roused from a deep slumber. He scanned their surroundings, concern written across his face.
> "Where do we go? Don't you think it's strange, just moving like this when we know nothing about this place? Everything's a blank slate… and yet you're acting like you've got a destination."
Jean's expression shifted, hardening. For a brief moment, his face became stone—cold, tense… his eyes empty, yet behind them simmered a volcano, unruptured and waiting. He slowly lifted his gaze to the sky.
To be continued…