Prologue
"Each step forward feels like a betrayal of who I once was,
yet I cannot stop walking."
In the continent of death, where the moon shifts its
shape and color every first of the month, I stare into the abyss filled with the
black blood of my comrades. My chin is high as my gaze follows the people I
once despised. They run under my command, distant as ants on the horizon. They
are black-blooded demons.
A slight smirk covers my face, but I am left with a
sorrowful look. My gaze shifts from the obsidian-cloaked warriors to the
craters of the golden moon above. I wear a beard, a blond mane of hair, and
eyes in the color of the azure sun—but it's all a disguise, not the body my
mother brought into the world.
My hands clutch a black sword that shimmers in the
golden moonlight.
This continent is ruled by blood. I was red and still
am one. I am with other blood, black-blooded at most. I gaze across the
distance, where the moon of the gods glides over the battlefield. Beaming
lights of angels in the hollow distance. Dozens of thousands fight for their
land. We invade them, we don't play by the rules anymore.
A sigh escapes my mouth as I stand on a cliff at least
sword pierces through the hard stone, although I only lean forward. In the
distance, nearly at eye level, they fly with wings of feathers and bats. Light contrasts
with the darkness.
"In favor of the gods." I let the word gods linger a
bit until I give a heavier sigh again. I was a fool to have thought I could be
one myself. That I, a mere red, could change this cruel world ruled by the
grief of monsters.
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Be it us, reds, those stoic blues, those faceless
greens. I glare into the raven-like darkness created by the night but
interrupted by the beams of light, which pulse every few seconds.
My eyes set upon the horizon, pupils turning from big
to small. I linger now in distance. The aching pain that overcomes me, that
consumes me from within. In flesh and blood. The golden moon shifts, the only
source of light except that created by the angels, the white-blooded. My people
fight them. They are not of my blood. Black, not red. But my friends, my family.
I chuckle, bitter and alone. I live with the demons,
fighting against the ones who worship the gods, the golden. False gods. They
claimed the title as I did. We are all separated from within. We're not equal;
we never were, but for that reason to enslave the inferior… My smile fades
the golden moon vanishes, turning its shape.
Once vast and golden, the moon darkens—an eclipse slicing
through the night. Then, it burns red. Resembling my kind. It brings back
memories, long-lost memories.
A Red Eclipse.
"I'm sorry," I mutter, sadness overcoming me, guilt. I
think about my brother. He was too young, and I killed him. For a slight
moment, my hands tremble. It should've been me, not him. But I tighten my grip,
facing the redness in front of me. The light building is in front of me. Beams
pulsating like my own blood. The silence is interrupted by a battle cry, then
by my murmuring.
"But don't worry. Soon—I'll be with you." My azure eyes
become crimson as the blood boils within me.
As the moon shrinks, I remember counting planets with
my brother—Mars, his favorite. But even that was a lie. Still, I cling to it.
"Ren, my dear little brother…" I say, a tear cutting
down my bruised cheek. I move forward, I always do, even if it is a betrayal of
who I once was. I hold the sword firmly, my feet denting the ground beneath. An
explosion erupts, shaking the ground and my body. My heart pounds, but I close
my eyes and welcome the red light.
"…Soon—I'll be with you—just, wait a bit longer." And
then—I jump.
Into blood.
Into death.
Into hell.