Hero…

What was a hero?

A knight in shining armour who rode into battle for their brethren? A mother who sacrificed her life for her newborn child? A priest who stripped off all his worldly desires and dedicated his entire life to feeding the poor? A martyr that bathed the sewers with their blood for the sake of their righteous cause? A sage King who brought peace to the realm and ruled over his citizens with wisdom and trust? 

An innumerable number of heroes lived throughout the ages, many of whom have been etched into legend, and their names will ring in the ears of humanity forevermore. 

From the birth of humanity to the middle ages and, finally, the modern age. Humans will always strive for heroes. Heroes to save the day, heroes that will improve their lives and heroes… That will sacrifice their lives for the greater good. As long as humanity exists, heroes will arise to fill that empty void. 

Number 23 was one such hero. 

Born and raised in a laboratory, the warrior didn't have a name. He didn't have a childhood, and he didn't know his parents. The warrior wasn't given much as a child and was put through the harshest environment humanity could envision. Climbing mountains charred with fire and ice, roaming a corpse-filled battlefield with nothing but a sword, going through all sorts of human experimentation…

All for the sake of creating the ultimate weapon. Imbued with ether, a mystical substance that could enhance the quality of humans to mythological status, Number 23 had grown to become a Transcendent. 

There were many like Number 23, superhumans who had become a non-standard from the realm of humanity. They hoped that by using these Transcendents, they would be able to tip the battles in their favour and bring victory to their lands. With their newfound toys, each country raced to create the strongest Transcendent, and their race for arms had led to a hundred-year war. 

It was a war to end all wars. The ultimate victor of this war will lead humanity for centuries, if not millenniums. This was why every country invested heavily in its Transcendent program, even taking inhumane measures such as human experimentation to create the perfect Transcendent.

And one country succeeded.

Even amongst Transcendents, Number 23 was a cut above the rest.

With his signature blade in hand, Number 23 terrorised the battlefields of the warring nations like a butcher carving through flesh, leaving thousands of corpses in his wake. Machine guns and tanks meant nothing to the man born and bred to be the perfect killing machine. Each time he swung his sword in a perfect arc, a river of blood was sure to follow. 

Number 23's swordplay was so clean and efficient that it was akin to a work of art. No, it was a work of art. Anyone who saw it in person was sure to say the same. Each slice of his sword was created a crescent moon, and no Transcendent could come close to his display of the sword. Number 23 soon led his country to innumerable victories and quickly brought an end to multiple enemy countries.

The man was hailed as a hero, a Transcendent who had become the killer of Transcendents: the monster that only knew victory and the one who would end the hundred-year war.

But most knew him from his codename on the battlefield—a moniker given by his enemies who shivered at the thought of meeting him in person. 

The Lunar Blade. 

"Lieutenant, have you received any parcels for me?"

Amid a quiet, calm encampment, one man sat bored in his chair. Kicking his feet onto the makeshift table used for maps and strategic plans, the man balanced himself on the chair with two legs suspended up while stretching his neck behind the headrest. In his hands was a well-worn hardback book larger than his two palms combined. Even though it was a thousand pages thick, the book was falling apart, with pages hanging out from the sides, and its spine was half a turn away from tearing the book in two.

One of the soldiers who was busy writing a report nearby shivered at the cold voice. It took everything he had to stop the fear from creeping up his throat and breaking into a cold sweat. However, even though he was fearful, the soldier didn't let it show in his voice as he quickly bellowed out in response:

"No, Major! We've yet to receive any mail!"

"I see… What a pity…" 

The bored man replied while dragging his voice. It was hard to determine his emotions just from that lazy voice. Was he sad? Disappointed? Or was he about to erupt into a fit of anger? The soldier didn't know. Therefore, the Lieutenant got to his feet and clicked his boots together to escape the tense situation.

"L-Let me check with the logistics department again, Major! Perhaps your parcel has been stuck."

"No, you don't have to go that far…"

"N-Not to worry, sir! It's my honour to serve the hero of our nation!"

"You…"

The man couldn't mutter another word as the soldier excused himself comedically. Disappearing faster than most of his enemy's retreats, his young Lieutenant scurried out of his tent, stumbling on some rocks and crevices on the jagged terrain with his face completely red.

"... You would think I punished him or something."

Number 23 mentally 'held' his head as he watched his subordinate run like the wind. There were bound to be misunderstandings in the morning due to the Lieutenant's actions, but the seasoned warrior didn't care. 

After living for twenty-five years, the man had long gotten over the eyes of mistrust and fear directed at him throughout his life. In the past, it was the pure curiosity of the scientists who experimented on him. However, as his years on the battlefield piled up and his accolades grew, people sent all sorts of gazes in his direction.

Curiosity… Excitement… Joy… Fear… Anger…

The fear in his enemies' eyes and his allies' jubilance. And… The hope of his people. 

They were all emotions directed at the Lunar Blade. 

Number 23 was used to those expectant eyes and would usually brush them away with an empty heart. However, this time, the last sentence of this subordinate lingered in his mind. 

"The hero of our nation…"

The hardened man rubbed the temples of his forehead and repeated his subordinate's words. 

"Am I really a hero?"

Number 23 reflected on his actions thus far in an emotionless reminiscence. All of his heroic deeds were orders from his superiors: exterminate the enemy, destroy a base, cull a rebellion… They were all destructive and bloody tasks. 

In most missions, Number 23 took the high burden on his own, not because it was the right thing to do or due to his heroic nature, but because it was the easiest path to completing his assignment. Having subordinates fight alongside him would only slow him down after all. 

Consequently, Number 23 completed the most missions with the least number of casualties. And at the same time, his deeds had, time and time again, swayed the war in his country's favour.

Therefore, Number 23 was his country's pride and joy… their hero.

Yet, the man didn't feel that way in the slightest. Built and brainwashed as a weapon for war, Number 23 never did have much desire. All that mattered was completing the mission assigned to him, nothing else. He never felt guilt for cutting down thousands of people or pride in accomplishing the impossible. 

All his life, he was trained to do only one thing.

To fight. 

But as time passed, the government gradually loosened the leash on his neck. They could no longer treat him as the lab rat and exterminator he was raised to become, not because of the goodness of their hearts but because they were forced to do so. His deeds on the battlefield were legendary, and the number of people who respected him equalled those who feared him. Ultimately, it didn't look good on the government for treating their number one hero as a mere hunting dog. 

Therefore, they had to give him a new identity. A new name, his own luxurious lodgings, copious amounts of wealth… Everything that the strongest existence on the planet ultimately deserved. 

Alas, Number 23 didn't know what to do with his newfound reputation and freedom. He never had a family or friends, for that matter. He never once desired anything on his own. Neither the warm touch of a woman nor the world's finest cuisines could touch his frozen heart.

So, to truly find himself and regain what little humanity he had left, Number 23 decided to indulge himself in one of the oldest forms of entertainment humans had.

Reading.

It all started with non-fiction books, learning more about the large world he knew nothing about and researching historical events to figure out a cure for his cold and frigid heart. However, after reading thousands of books, Number 23 got bored. He soon switched to fiction books that were bestsellers in many publications. Romance, adventure, mysteries… Number 23 delved into a little bit of everything. 

However, there was nothing he fancied. 

Yes, each new book he read provided some entertainment value, but eventually, the man hit a wall. There wasn't a story that got his blood boiling, his soul churning, and his mind frantically asking for more. 

And just as he was about to give up… An epiphany struck him.

Number 23 had many names —the Lunar Blade, the Executioner, and the God of War.

But there was one name that he heard more than any other…

Hero.

Hero… The one title that everyone threw at him. Number 23 didn't know what it was like to be a hero. He wasn't given the proper education for that. Therefore, in hopes of understanding what everyone saw in him, Number 23 searched for the most popular books about heroes. 

And that's when he stumbled across the series that would change his life.

"[Bright]…"

Number 23 flipped the giant hardback book to reveal the cover. In capital-bold letters, the word [Bright] was inked. One of the world's best-selling novels, it sold over ten million copies with numerous artwork, television and movie adaptations made about it. 

The story of [Bright]'s protagonist resonated with readers of all ages and genders. Fighting against the odds his entire life, the protagonist never gave up. He cared for the weak and fended off the strong. He trained tirelessly, even though everyone shunned him from a young age. Eventually, he becomes one of the most powerful beings in the story and uses his power to save anyone who needs saving. 

Perhaps due to the war-torn landscape of the planet, there had been many yearning for a hero such as the one in [Bright]. 

A hero who would selflessly give his everything to his people and a person who will shoulder the burden of humanity on his shoulders. 

Alas, Number 23 was not such a man.

He didn't care if the entire world burned. Even if millions, nay, billions of humans perished due to his actions, he wouldn't feel an ick. All of Number 23's life, his only concern had been with his missions. As long as he completed them, he cared nought if the world were destroyed.

To this day, Number 23 couldn't grasp the concept of a hero. He didn't understand the protagonist's motivation. He couldn't. 

Why would anyone sacrifice himself to save someone else? Why would they walk through hell and back just to see someone smile? Why would they give their blood, sweat and tears to others?

Even after reading all available volumes of the book from cover to cover hundreds of times until the point where he memorised every word… Number 23 could never understand.

"I don't get it…" 

Pulsing himself back on the chair, the jaded man sighed. 

"If only I had the next volume of the story with me…" 

Once again, the Major looked out of his tent only to see his Lieutenant frantically scurrying around like a rat. Just by looking at his face, Number 23 already knew his book wouldn't be arriving so quickly.

"I guess I must clear this mission quickly if I want to read the next volume."

Exhaling a long breath, Number 23 kept his hard copy away and started to read his commander's orders.