He once had a dream. A simple, naive dream. 

As a child, he idolized the strongest warriors in the land men and women whose mere presence could part a sea of monsters. He watched them return from the depths of dungeons, bearing treasure and tales of glory. In his small, innocent mind, he thought: I want to be like them. No. I want to be the strongest. 

His family laughed at his dream but supported him regardless. His mother would ruffle his hair, telling him to stay safe. His father, once an adventurer himself, would sharpen his wooden sword, telling him, "Strength is more than just power. It's the will to protect."

His childhood friend a girl with fire in her eyes always cheered for him. "When you become the strongest, don't forget about me, okay?" she'd say, flashing her brightest smile. They promised they'd adventure together when they got older.

And so he trained. Harder than anyone. Every morning until his hands bled. Every night until his body gave out. His body broke, but his spirit burned brighter.

By the time he reached adulthood, he had joined a party of skilled adventurers. His childhood friend. His mentor who taught him swordsmanship. A mischievous mage who always lightened the mood. A quiet healer who kept them alive. Together, they were unstoppable. Each day was a step closer to his dream to become the strongest and protect those he loved. 

But fate is cruel.

It started with his family. A monster raid. He wasn't there to protect them. He returned to find their corpses twisted and mangled, his home reduced to ash. Grief clawed at his throat, but he pressed on. I still have my party. I still have her. Then his mentor died. A mission gone wrong. One mistake and his mentor fell in battle, his final words gasped out through bloody lips, "Protect them. No matter what."

He couldn't mourn. He had to lead. He still had her. But fate was not done with him. One by one, his party members fell. The mischievous mage devoured by a beast they had no business fighting. The healer torn apart when a quest turned into an ambush. And then… her. His childhood friend. The one who swore to stay by his side.

She died in his arms, her face contorted in pain, her blood staining his hands. "You'll… keep your promise… right?" she whispered. He nodded, lying through his teeth. "I will." And just like that, she was gone.

Days turned into months. Months turned into years. He fulfilled his dream. He became the strongest. Monsters fell before him like leaves in the wind. No one could rival his power.

But there was no one left to protect. No one to share his victories. No one to return home to. His dream had died with them.

So he became a machine.

Wake up. Eat. Take a quest. Complete it. Go home. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Day after day. Month after month. Year after year. He never cried. He never smiled. He never laughed. He never screamed. He simply existed. Hoping no, praying that one day a monster strong enough would kill him. But none ever did. Even when he held back, he couldn't die.

Death… would be a mercy.

But the world was not merciful. And so, the strongest man in the world continued his hollow existence waiting for something, anything, to either break him or save him.