Within a dimly lit room, there laid a women in a makeshift bed, room falling apart, a few people huddled around and an elderly man at the side of this pained women. 

"Please... please open your eyes. Please…even a faint pulse..." a woman clutched her hands together hoping for a miracle. "Save my child," plead the bedridden woman, who was now a mother. An elderly man in shabby clothes spoke up in a low tired voice, "Yurei, I'm sorry, but he's no longer--" Just as the old man was about to finish his statement, an echoing cry filled the room.

Everyone in the room gasped in shock. The mother of this newborn child began to quietly sob, "Thank you..." The woman continued to sob quietly as the doctor examined the baby, "It's a miracle he's alive."

Some couple seconds later he followed up by telling her something to bring her some peace true or not. "Furthermore, he's healthy."

The elderly man's wife who unlike her husband used to be a mage of no family, a low grade mage. But retired and old she'd still be able to feel and sense the faintest traces of magic if there were any. So giving the baby a close look, she placed her frail hands underneath and over the tiny bloodied hands. 

A second of anticipation turned into a minute and then three. Or at least that's what it felt like for everyone within the old damaged clay or stone house.

Sighing, shaking her head and giving her elderly partner a glance, the elderly husband nodded slowly, handing the blood bathed newborn to the anxious mother who took him in to her warm and weak embrace as soon he offered her the child. 

"Yurei, this is important to hear. Your boy has no magic." The few people in the room gasped and murmured amongst themselves. Hearing this, and taking it in wasn't easy by any means, but had that really mattered? 

To her, the only thing left in her life was in her arms, no longer crying and alive; she was content.

A smile rested softly on her lips as her gentle voice reached the old couple's ears. "Life won't be easy for him. In a world where magic is everything, where power and status are measured by it... he'll face challenges. He might be shunned, maybe even ridiculed. But to me, he'll be more than enough. I'll love him, cherish him—" A harsh cough broke through the quiet room, her frail body trembling from the effort. Another cough followed, more ragged than the last.

She took a shuddering breath, her eyes shimmering with a tender gaze. "But... when I'm no longer here… I know he'll shine bright. He'll touch the hearts of those around him, change lives with his kindness, and grow to care deeply for others. I have no doubt... he'll be extraordinary."

Another cough shook her frail body, her shoulders trembling before she steadied herself. After a brief pause, her voice softened, carrying a warmth that seemed to fill the room. "And... even if he chooses a simpler path... if he decides to live humbly, to farm the earth, to cook meals that bring others joy, or to serve others with quiet dignity... I'll be proud of him just the same. Because greatness isn't measured by power, status or magic... but by the love and purpose one carries in their heart." Her eyes on the silent sleeping boy.

"Isn't that right? Koku Kurayami."

From that day forth, Koku Kurayami would live. Yet, at the very moment he was born or even before. Somewhere far beyond the reaches of light and sound, a dark place devoid of anything and everything began to stir. For reasons unknown, it moved, almost as if compelled by curiosity. But how could something without life, without consciousness, feel such a thing?

This dark space was nothing ordinary. It was the very force that once plunged the world into chaos, sparking a conflict so catastrophic it became known as the Great War of Voidfall. A war of unparalleled cruelty, waged in an era when gods walked among the living freely. An era where many chose to claim their own lives to escape this crule war that claimed billions of lives and shattered the delicate balance of the world. It was a war born from the void's insatiable desire to create the 'perfect...' something. Yet, in its relentless pursuit, it nearly reduced heaven, hell, and earth to barren wastelands.

All society, crumbled during this era. Technical's advances lost and reset to and unbelievable extent, and the once plentiful numbers of races, near extinction. Some were lucky, others weren't. 

For thousands of years, the world slowly healed, some places would never be the same but life of every kind flourished again, and magic flowed freely across the world. Yet, even in this age of recover, the old…ancient scars of Voidfall war remained, etched deep into the earth and whispered of in myths, folklore. Fragments of that devastating war were scattered across the world—artifacts of immense power, lost and undiscovered. It was said that those who found them could become the greatest of warriors or the wealthiest people, some even rulers.

But the most unsettling rumor persisted: the Void that had once nearly destroyed all was not gone. That it was waiting—lurking in the forgotten corners of the outer world, patient and silent, watching as the cycle of life continued... perhaps waiting for something.

Some years had passed since Koku Kurayami was born, a year prior the elderly last one of the two couple died. A year apart, the same day.

But on this day, he found himself sprinting through the narrow, winding streets of the slums, his heart pounding like a drum. "CATCH HIM!" a man's voice echoed behind him, full of anger and spite. Koku's bare feet slapped against the uneven stones as he took a sharp turn, nearly slipping. His ragged breaths came fast, his body aching from hunger and fatigue. "Not today... Mom has to eat—" he muttered, eyes burning with determination.

Just as he rounded another corner, a man in his mid-forties stepped out, swinging a thick wooden plank. The impact was brutal. It slammed into Koku's stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. His small body folded, crashing to the ground as pain exploded through him. The world spun, blurred by tears he refused to let fall.

"Tch, brat's lucky we ain't killing him," one of the men sneered, spitting on the ground next to Koku's trembling form.

"Yeah, things like him are better off suffering than dying," another laughed, his voice cold and callous. They walked away, their laughter echoing off the alley walls, satisfied with the 30-minute beating they had just delivered.

Left behind, Koku lay motionless, bloodied and bruised, the cobblestones rough against his pained and dirtied skin. His body in pain.

All he could think about was his mother for the time being. "Mom's... not gonna eat... at this rate," he whispered, his voice hoarse. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up, his limbs shaking beneath him. "Where... should I go?"

He staggered out of the alleyway, his vision swimming as he wandered aimlessly through the maze of poverty he called home. An hour later, he found himself at the outskirts of the slums, where the worn streets met patches of grass and scraggly bushes.

Then he saw it—his salvation. A rabbit, small and plump, nibbling on a tuft of grass. Koku's stomach growled, the ache so intense it made him feel dizzy. "A rabbit..." he whispered, his mouth watering at the thought. "If... if I catch that... Mom and I can eat tonight."

Without hesitation, he broke into a sprint. "Come here!" he shouted, his voice cracking as he lunged forward. The rabbit's ears twitched, and it bolted, swift and agile. It was far faster than Koku, darting left and right with ease. But he didn't give up. He chased the creature through weeds and dirt, stumbling and falling more than once, but always getting back up.

Was it due to the desperation of hunger? 

Hours passed as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of purple and gold before darkness claimed the land. Exhausted but undeterred, Koku watched the rabbit closely, learning its movements. Rushing and yelling hadn't worked; it only scared the animal away faster. So he changed his approach, creeping low and silent, his ragged breaths muffled behind gritted teeth.

He waited, heart pounding, until the rabbit was within reach. Then, with every ounce of strength he had left, he dashed forward, his fingers closing around warm fur. The rabbit thrashed, but his grip was firm. For a moment, his vision blurred, tears welling up as relief flooded him.

"I'm... not done yet," he murmured, his voice soft, almost apologetic. "Sorry, little guy... but I'm hungry. Mom's hungry, too. Rest well... and may your soul be guided somewhere kinder than here." With trembling hands, he did what he had to do, snapping the rabbit's neck with a swift, practiced motion.

He stood there in the darking shade of the trees nearby as the sun's light was nearly gone. Cradling the lifeless body against his chest, his thin shoulders shaking. It wasn't just prey he held; it was hope, survival... another day with his mother. And for Koku, that was worth any cost.

His mother was his whole world, all he also had left. 

After a moment of silence, Koku looked down at the rabbit in his hands and felt proud…but guilty. It was eating too, before it's escape for survival.

A smile later broke across his dirt-smeared face, and he couldn't help it. "We're gonna eat tonight." His voice strange to him. He could feel it, the empty fields, carried away by the evening breeze.

Without wasting another moment, Koku turned and dashed back home, his bare feet pounding against the rugged ground. His body ached from the earlier beating, his ribs throbbing with each breath, but none of that mattered now. All he could think about was his mother's smile when she saw the food he brought.

When he finally reached the small, rundown shack he called home, he stopped to catch his breath, leaning against the creaking wooden frame of the door. The structure was barely standing, its walls cracked and splintered, but to Koku, it was everything. He straightened up and pushed the door open. "Mother, I'm home!"

Inside, Yurei sat on a worn mat, her frail body wrapped in old blankets. Her face was pale, her eyes sunken from illness and hunger. At the sound of Koku's voice, she looked up, a tired smile curving on her lips. "Welcome home…" she coughed twice... "Where have you been?" Her voice was weak, and the cough that followed rattled through her body.

"Mother, look what I brought back!" Koku beamed with happiness holding out the rabbit with pride, then a little guilt.

Yurei's eyes widened, a look of disbelief crossing her face. But her joy was short-lived as her gaze shifted to Koku's blood-stained, ragged and torn clothes, the bruises peeking out from under his torn shirt. Her heart sank, her voice trembling as she asked, "Koku... what happened? Why are you covered in blood?" She tried to stand but flinched as she coughed.

Koku's smile faltered for a split second before he forced it back, his eyes bright with forced cheer. "Mom, we should eat while it's fresh! Can you cook it?" His voice was a little too loud, his enthusiasm a little too forced. It was obvious—he was avoiding her question.

Yurei opened her mouth to press him further but stopped when she saw the look in his eyes. The boy had grown up too fast, his innocence chipped away by hardship and cruelty. She sighed, her shoulders sagging as she gave in. "Alright... Come here, Koku. Let me teach you how to skin it first."

She moved slowly, her body functions dampened from her illness, but her hands were steady as she showed Koku how to carefully remove the pelt. Koku watched closely, his sharp eyes never missing a detail. He was good at this—remembering things with just a glance. Yurei couldn't help but feel a hint of sadness at how quickly he was learning to survive in this harsh world.

Once the rabbit was skinned and cleaned, Yurei prepared a small fire in the makeshift hearth. The aroma of roasting meat filled the tiny shack, rich and savory. Koku's mouth watered as he watched the flames, his stomach growling in anticipation.

That night, they ate in silence, savoring each bite as if it were a rare delicacy. Koku made sure his mother had the larger portion, his heart swelling with pride at the way her face lit up as she ate. She made it clear how tastey it was to Koku by even placing one of her hands aginst her cheek.

After the meal, Yurei looked at the cleaned pelt lying on the floor. "We won't have much use for this," she murmured, running her fingers over the soft fur. "Koku, tomorrow, take this to the marketplace. Someone might buy it, and we could use the money."

Koku's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I will, Mom! I'll get the best price for it!

The next morning, just as the sun peeked over the rooftops, Koku slipped out of the shack, the rabbit hide hugged tightly to his chest. He ran through the winding alleys of the slums, his small figure darting between the shadows, careful to avoid the places where trouble lurked, or in other words, places he caused trouble.

As he neared the bustling marketplace, his heart raced with anticipation. This was his chance to do more than just survive. This was his chance to provide for the one person who mattered most.

Determined, Koku stepped into the crowded square, his eyes set on his goal. He would sell the pelt and bring home whatever he could. No matter how hard it was, no matter what it took... he wouldn't go back empty-handed. Not today.

On his way back to the marketplace, Koku's heart raced when he spotted the same group of men who had beaten him the day before. They were lounging against a crumbling wall, their faces twisted into sneers as they spotted him. "Oh? Look who we have here," one of them said, his voice dripping with malice. He took a step forward, cracking his knuckles with a sickening pop. "Come here, kid."

Koku's body tensed, instincts screaming at him to run. The man advanced, his footsteps echoing against the cobblestones. Koku's eyes darted around, calculating his escape. Just as the man lunged, Koku spun on his heel and bolted, dirt kicking up behind him. He heard the man's curse, the heavy thud of footsteps as they gave chase.

He sprinted down the narrow alley, his small body weaving between crates and debris. He took a sharp right, only to fake the movement and dash left instead, his quick reflexes allowing him to slip right past the man's outstretched arms. The man's fingers barely grazed his shirt before Koku was gone, a shadow in the labyrinth of alleys.

Ten minutes of nonstop running later, Koku's legs burned, his chest heaved, but he finally reached his destination. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw no sign of his pursuers. He let out a breath of relief and slipped into an old shop, the bell above the door giving a faint jingle.

"Hello there," greeted a young teenager from behind the counter, his face warm and welcoming.

"H-Hi," Koku stammered, still catching his breath. He hugged the rabbit hide close to his chest, his eyes wary. The teenager's gaze softened, his eyes lingering on the pelt.

"Come to sell that, have ya?" the teen asked with a knowing smile. "Alright, meet me over there, and I'll take care of you."

Koku did as he was told, approaching the front counter and waiting nervously. The teenager joined him, wiping his hands on his apron. "Alright, may I see the hide?"

For a moment, Koku hesitated, his grip tightening on the rabbit skin. But seeing the patient look on the teen's face, he slowly handed it over. The teenager examined it, turning it over and nodding to himself. "Hmm... It's been cleaned to an okay state. It still needs a bit more work, though. How about I give you 30 Verdigris? Does that seem like a good deal to you?"

Koku blinked, his face scrunching in confusion. "Mister... I don't know what that is. I'm only 5 years old, so I still haven't learned about that stuff yet."

The teenager's eyes widened before his face broke into a smile. "Well, aren't you an honest little guy?" He leaned on the counter, his tone turning gentle. "Alright, let me teach you how money works. Verdigris coins are made of copper and are the lowest form of currency. They're the most common coins you'll find around here. Then, there's Argentum, made from silver. One Argentum is worth 100 Verdigris. And lastly, there are Suncrests. They're made from gold and are worth 100 Argentums each. Any poor man's dream is to get their hands on even one of those."

Koku listened intently, his eyes wide with fascination. The teenager chuckled, ruffling Koku's hair. "Got all that?"

"Yeah... I think so," Koku nodded eagerly.

The teen's grin widened. "Alright then, let's see if you're as sharp as you look. What's 12 Argentums in Verdigris?"

Koku's eyes flicked upward as he did the math in his head. "It's... 1,200 Verdigris!" he answered confidently.

The teenager's eyebrows shot up. "Well, well! Aren't you a clever one? Alright, you pass the quiz. I'll throw in another 5 Verdigris for being such a quick learner."

He handed over 35 Verdigris, the coins clinking softly as they fell into Koku's small hands. "Come back anytime, little guy," the teenager said, waving as Koku left the shop, his heart soaring.

On his way home, Koku didn't run into the men again, his path clear and safe. Feeling more confident, he decided to try his luck hunting another rabbit. He returned to the outskirts, his eyes sharp as he scanned the grass. After some searching, he spotted one. This time, his movements were more calculated, his steps lighter, his patience sharper. It took him 40 minutes to catch the rabbit, far quicker than before.

Holding his prize, Koku beamed, his face bright with pride. "I'm getting better... Mom, I think the days of being hungry are over for good," he whispered, giving the rabbit a moment of silence before he finished it swiftly, just as his mother taught him.

By the time he made it back to the slums, the sun was setting, the sky painted in shades of amber and violet. As he approached his home, his steps faltered. His front door was wide open, hanging crookedly from its hinges.

A cold chill ran down his spine. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Heart pounding, Koku ran to the door, skidding to a stop as his eyes took in the wreckage. The small shack was in shambles, furniture overturned, blankets ripped, and the faint smell of blood lingering in the air. His breath hitched, fear clawing at his throat. "M-Mom...?"

His voice was barely a whisper as he stepped inside, his feet crunching on broken pottery. Then he saw it—a dark figure standing in the corner, cloaked in shadows. The figure was hunched over, unmoving, standing above a pool of dark, spreading liquid.

Koku's heart stopped, his body frozen in place as the figure slowly straightened, turning to face him. The dim light revealed its face—a twisted mask of malice, eyes burning with a sickening glow. As Koku took another step forward, his vision shifted, and he saw her.

His mother, Yurei, lying on the floor in a puddle of blood, her eyes half-lidded, her face pale and lifeless. The world around him seemed to shatter, the air rushing from his lungs as reality crashed down.

"No... No, no, no..." The words tumbled from his lips, his voice cracking with desperation. He stumbled forward, dropping the rabbit as his legs gave out beneath him. His eyes were locked on his mother's still form, his heart breaking with each painful beat.

The dark figure watched him, its mouth curving into a cold, cruel smile. In a voice as hollow as the void, it whispered

"You can't protect anything... not even her."

Koku's scream tore through the air, raw and broken, echoing into the dreadful room.