Sometimes, I think it all began with a name.
Before that… I simply existed.
Empty. Unwanted. Unseen.
Then the name came — and with it, meaning.
Someone saved me.
Someone believed in me.
For the first time, I became someone.
I believed I could protect those who became dear to me.
That I could change what once seemed written in stone.
That the path I walked would lead to light, not darkness.
But the further I went, the more cracks I saw.
In people. In the world. In myself.
The truth was never far — only fractured.
Like the world itself… split into broken stories no one dares to finish.
No one — but not me.
They crave attention —
Attention I refuse to give.
They demand a response —
A response they will never get from me.
They dream of battle —
A battle I long for as well.
So let the bloody war begin.
Let the blood of those who dared to challenge me be spilled.
And in this war, without a doubt, the inevitable victor will be me.
They descended with halos and fire, speaking in tongues lost to time.
Angels or demons — I no longer care.
They stood in my way… and so I fought them.
I don't know if the choices I made were right.
I'm not sure if I was ever strong enough.
But I remember.
Every smile.
Every step taken beside me.
Every fleeting hope.
History remembers everyone —
The weak, the strong, even the nameless.
And I… am part of that story.
A tragic story.
A heroic story.
The story doesn't end with silence.
Not while I still remember.
Not while I still walk.
Not until I destroy fate and her minions.