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EDEN'S POV:
The last thing I remember...
Smoke.
Thick, suffocating smoke.
Fire.
Ashes.
The stench of burnt flesh.
I was losing my mind, unable to think straight.
The air was heavy with the smell of blood and charred bodies. It choked me.
I was terrified, confused.
No one was left alive...
Except me and a dying man.
He handed me a strange sword—one without a blade—and told me to guard it.
I couldn't recall anything from before.
Did I have a family?
Who were they?
Where were they?
Probably dead, I guess.
The man died soon after, but before he did, he whispered something.
Something important, perhaps.
"If anyone asks, your name is Eden Faustus."
I don't know who he was, but there was something in his voice.
Fear.
Pain.
Struggle.
Agony.
Taking on the name felt like honoring his final wish.
I wanted to know more—about my family, about the massacre, about why I survived.
But the past is in the past.
I have to move on.
From now on, I am Eden Faustus.
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