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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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