Echoes: The Remnant
History is not written by the victors; it is written by the survivors. And it did not begin with our creation, but with our breaking.
'They' arrived. This is a simple fact. To describe them with fear is a waste of energy. They were a higher form of life, and we were the scenery. Their curiosity was a force of nature, like a fire that burns a forest not out of malice, but because that is its function. They dissected our cities, unraveled our people, and cataloged our screams with a profound and chilling indifference. We resisted, which was a meaningless gesture. We begged, which was the only currency the weak possess: submission. It had no value to Them.
Then, they left. Their interest was exhausted. The experiment was concluded.
But they left one behind. An entity we refer to as 'He/Him'.
He did not offer us pity. Pity is an emotion, a weakness. He offered a transaction. He looked upon the ruins of our world and saw not a tragedy, but an inefficient system. He saw a resource, humanity that was squandering its potential.
He introduced us to the universe's most brutal and honest law: everything has a price. He taught us of 'Contracts', a precise emotional alchemy. He showed us that our feelings were not sacred treasures, but were simply another form of currency to be bartered for tangible power. Grief, love, fear, joy each had a market value. Each could be exchanged for strength.
Under His tutelage, five of us were the first to master this new economy of the soul. We became what the history books call the Five Heroes. We imposed order on the chaos, and the survivors called this era "The Age of Restoration". It was a lie. It was a more stable, more efficient cage.
But even a cage of gold is worthless if its inhabitants have conflicting methodologies. Our union shattered, not over kingdoms or gold, but over a simple calculation of benefit.
One chose the fragile heart, clinging to its price,
Ignoring that such warmth will not stop cold ice.
Three saw the path of gain, and cast their thrones,
Embracing logic's reign, on paths of polished stones.
And one was left to see the truth behind the lie,
That gilded cages gleam beneath a master's eye.
From then on, the path forward was clear. One Hero led the Mortals, choosing to hoard the worthless currency of emotion. Three became the first Hollows, for they understood 'He's' lesson perfectly: to pursue maximum benefit is the only logical path. And I alone chose to see the system for what it was.
To propagate our conflicting ideologies, we authored three books.
The Tome of Artifice - A shield of steel and gear.
A manual for those who wished to build strength externally because they were too afraid to pay the internal price. A path of inefficiency.
The Ledger of Absence - A guide for what is gained.
The only truly honest text. A grimoire of transactions, a perfect catalog for calculating the profit and loss of one's own heart.
The Codex of Echoes - A key of whispered name.
My testament. It contains the fundamental truth of our world: that our 'savior' is just a new warden, and our 'power' is merely the chain he uses to bind us.
It is for this truth that the world must be broken and reforged once more. It is an inevitability.
