> It isn't fair that some are born knowing, while the rest are cast into the dark without a clue.
But I've come to learn that fairness was never a part of this world. It's a lie we cling to—to justify our failure to control it.
The dark… it wasn't black the way you'd imagine. It was gray, stagnant, like that space between dreams, where you're not sure if you're asleep or awake. That's where I was… or maybe what I was.
I remember the first time I realized I was different.
It wasn't a moment of light, but a moment of questioning:
"Does any of this mean anything?"
I wasn't looking for an answer—only a way to force the question onto the world.
Because answers don't matter when the question itself is a weapon.
Everything began with a collapse.
Civilization? No. That fell long before I was born.
What truly collapsed was the thin veil that had been keeping the truth from my eyes.
I lived among the ruins of a city, running through shadows, learning to smile when I wanted to cry, and to stay silent when I wanted to scream.
I learned that weakness is betrayal—even if it's directed at myself.
My name was… no. Not yet.
Names come late in good stories.
But you're here now, reading these words.
Maybe you think you're ready to understand me.
That's fine.
I thought so too.
Let's begin the story.
But a small warning...
In this tale, there are no heroes.
Only a survivor—trying not to become what's hunting him.