Prologue
Prologue
The Beginning Before Ruin
Night had fallen quietly over the estate.
Too quietly.
The lamps outside Ryn’s chamber swayed in the wind, their flames bending and straightening again like breathing things. Somewhere beyond the walls servants moved softly through corridors, distant enough to become part of silence itself.
Ryn lay awake.
Eyes open.
The blankets tangled around his legs from hours of turning restlessly.
He could not sleep properly anymore.
Not after the dreams.
Not after the battlefield.
Not after seeing himself wearing blood and carrying a sword like judgment itself.
And worst of all…
Not after beginning to understand him.
Ryn exhaled sharply and turned onto his back again.
“This is seriously ruining my mental health.”
The ceiling stared back silently.
No answer.
Rude.
He rubbed his face tiredly.
Then suddenly—
The wind stopped.
Not softened.
Stopped.
The lamp flames froze motionless.
The curtains halted midair.
Even the distant sound of footsteps vanished.
Ryn frowned slowly.
“…What?”
Something felt wrong.
Deeply wrong.
He sat upright instinctively.
And then he saw it.
The candle beside his bed.
Its melted wax began rising upward.
The dripping trails crawling backward slowly.
Ryn stared.
The flame shrank inward.
Smoke returned into wick.
His heartbeat stumbled violently.
“No.”
Outside the window…
Rainwater lifted from ground into sky.
Leaves reattached themselves onto branches.
Shadows reversed direction unnaturally.
And the world…
The entire world…
Began moving backward.
Ryn stood immediately.
“What the hell is happening?”
His voice sounded too loud inside frozen chamber.
The walls trembled softly afterward.
Then cracked.
Not breaking apart.
Undoing themselves.
Stone dissolving backward through time.
The estate faded.
The palace vanished.
The kingdom unraveled like old painting dragged beneath water.
Ryn stumbled backward breathing unevenly now.
Buildings collapsed into forests.
Roads disappeared beneath wild grass.
Rivers shifted course.
The moon above fractured into unfamiliar constellations.
Everything rewound.
Faster.
Faster.
The capital disappeared entirely.
And suddenly Ryn stood alone beneath enormous black sky filled with ancient stars.
Cold wind struck his face sharply.
Different wind.
Older somehow.
The air itself felt heavier here.
Alive.
Ryn turned slowly.
Mountains stretched across horizon untouched by civilization. Dense forests swallowed the earth endlessly. Far away enormous golden structures floated among clouds like broken heavens chained above world.
His breath caught.
“…Where am I?”
No answer came.
Only distant thunder.
Then—
A scream echoed through forest.
Human.
Another followed.
Steel rang afterward.
And something deep inside Ryn’s chest tightened painfully.
Because he recognized that sound somehow.
Not memory.
Instinct.
His feet moved before thought could stop them.
Running through dark forest.
Branches scratching against skin.
Mist curling around roots.
And the deeper he ran…
The stranger his body felt.
Stronger.
Sharper.
Heavier somehow.
Not Ryn anymore.
Then suddenly—
A voice.
Low.
Ancient.
“Vaelor.”
Ryn stopped abruptly.
The name echoed through trees.
Vaelor.
Again.
Not Ryn.
Not Vorn.
Vaelor.
And somewhere deep inside him…
Something answered.
The trees opened.
Blood covered the earth beneath moonlight.
Monster corpses lay scattered brutally through clearing. Black blood steaming from severed flesh.
And standing among them…
Was him.
Or rather—
Vaelor.
Tall.
Terrifyingly calm.
Dressed in dark celestial armor glowing faintly beneath moonlight.
A sword rested in his hand dripping blood steadily into grass below.
Not one unnecessary movement existed in him.
Even stillness felt dangerous.
Before him on the ground knelt a wounded god drenched in golden blood.
Beautiful.
Dying.
“My friend…”
His voice trembled weakly.
Vaelor remained expressionless.
“The law was broken.”
His voice emerged low and steady.
“The punishment was decided.”
The god laughed softly then.
Sadly.
“As expected…”
Golden blood slid from his lips.
“You truly came yourself.”
Then from deeper within forest came desperate crashing sounds.
A woman emerged clutching small bundle against her chest.
Demon.
Terrified tears streaked across dirt-covered face while curved horns emerged faintly through dark hair.
And in her arms…
A baby cried weakly wrapped beneath torn cloth.
The wounded god forced himself upright desperately.
“Run!”
Then lunged toward Vaelor.
Steel flashed instantly.
One strike.
Clean.
Golden blood sprayed softly across moonlit grass.
The dying god looked up at Vaelor afterward.
Not with hatred.
With pity.
“Please…”
His voice faded thinner now.
“Live your life.”
Vaelor stood silent.
“Please love yourself.”
The forest seemed quieter suddenly.
“Please let love touch you…”
Golden blood slid across his chin softly.
“Please don’t remain weapon forever… my friend.”
And with that…
His hand fell still.
Then Vaelor moved deeper into forest.
Ryn followed helplessly behind him.
Until finally another clearing opened beneath moonlight.
The demon woman lay dead against tree roots surrounded by monster corpses.
Still clutching the child protectively even in death.
The baby crying weakly now.
Tiny.
Terrified.
Alone.
Vaelor stopped.
For first time…
He hesitated.
Kill monsters?
Or kill child?
Then suddenly—
A figure dropped soundlessly from trees above.
Black robes.
Red markings.
A mask hiding half his face.
Beautifully terrifying.
The stranger moved once.
Every remaining monster collapsed dead instantly.
Silence spread across clearing afterward.
The masked man bent and lifted crying baby gently from dead mother’s arms.
Then walked directly toward Vaelor.
And placed the child into his arms.
Vaelor stiffened immediately.
The baby cried harder at first.
Then instinctively…
Tiny fingers wrapped around Vaelor’s hand.
And instantly stopped crying.
The masked man smiled faintly beneath shadows.
“The child recognizes you.”
Vaelor stared down at baby wordlessly.
The masked man spoke softly afterward:
“You did well.”
Vaelor finally looked up slightly.
“Now live with your family.”
Family.
The word struck him harder than battle ever could.
Because all Vaelor could think was:
I killed his family.
Do I deserve touch him?
Hold him?
Protect him?
The baby tightened tiny fingers around his hand again.
And for first time in existence…
The God of War did not know what he was supposed to do next.
Then the wind returned.
Cold.
Ancient.
Heavy with forgotten centuries.
The forest trembled softly beneath it.
Leaves rose into air.
Mist curled backward.
Moonlight distorted strangely across ground.
And Ryn—
Or whatever remained of Ryn there—
Began to disappear.
Not painfully.
Not violently.
Quietly.
Like dust carried away by time itself.
His fingers faded first.
Then his arms.
Then the sound of his breathing.
The ancient world blurred before him slowly.
Vaelor holding the child.
The masked stranger beneath moonlight.
The corpses.
The blood.
The stars.
Everything growing distant.
Until only one thought remained echoing through him endlessly:
This was where it began.
