Over three hundred thousand years ago, a Great War erupted between Alco, the Sea King of the West, and the gods of the heavens. Infused with devouring darkness, Alco threatened to annihilate the stars themselves. Anticipating his rise, Westious and his brother Norpheus, leader of the gods, prepared for war.
In response, Alco created colossal beings—man and woman—towering over eighty feet tall, with the strength of a hundred dragons. They wrought havoc upon the gods, laying waste to the heavens, until Norpheus wielded the Scythe of Dreams, sealing Alco within the Inbetween, thirty million miles of void stretching endlessly around him.
As for the humans—shrunken from their once-mighty forms, now lying in the shadows of what they had been.
The kingdom of Alzhde—late evening.
"I get these thoughts… dark thoughts. Thoughts I'd never utter around anyone I know."
The woman held her gaze low, slowly clicking the roof of her mouth with her tongue.
"And you feel bad about them, right? Everyone gets thoughts like that—you don't mean them."
The man's voice was calm, precise. He reached for his beard, silently scanning her hands. Bruises marred them, subtle enough that most wouldn't notice—but he was a therapist. It was his job to notice.
The woman paused, eyes drifting toward the darkened oak walls, taking in the worn furniture around her.
"Sometimes these thoughts make me feel… weird. Different." She stood, her fingers tracing the edge of a chair. Her tapping matched the rhythm of her shoes on the floor—low, steady, unsettling.
"And what do these thoughts tell you?" His eyebrow arched, robes brushing the floor as the wind from the window stirred them. Outside, the people passed, marching to their places, oblivious to the tension within.
"That I need to let go… I need to act, to do something. It brings a… certain sensation."
His eyes flicked down, noticing the blood trickling from her leg. The metallic scent of iron filled the room.
"You mind talking to someone else for a minute?" he asked, rising slowly, studying her pale face framed by dark black bangs adorned with gold ornaments.
"Tell me, do you have dark thoughts, Fuji?" He watched her red robes, silky and held by a golden sash, as she seemed to shrink into herself.
"I don't think we should—"
"Shush. Don't speak when I talk."
A small, sharp blade struck her throat. Fuji gasped, blood spilling as she sank to her knees, struggling for air.
The woman's face twisted, a moment of shock flickering in her eyes. "Oh…"