"A figure chosen by God."
"A wanderer."
An ancient prophecy—older than kingdoms, older than recorded history—foretold the rise of a being who would become the strongest existence in Zephyria. A being who could be either salvation or calamity.
Humanity prepared for centuries.
New magical ranks were forged.
New abilities were studied.
Mana usage evolved, shaping the mystical land of Zephyria into something unrecognizable.
Schools were built.
A tier system was created: E → S and beyond S—
Cerdas, the realm of legends.
But centuries dulled memory.
The prophecy faded into myth, then into mockery.
People called it fake, useless, meaningless.
Until the day it happened.
A single, world-shaking earthquake.
The ground split.
Mountains cracked.
Kingdoms trembled.
And Zephyria felt it.
The Wanderer had arrived.
In A Ruined Town
"Mommy…? Mommy, where are you?"
A young girl wandered through the rubble, her small voice trembling. The earthquake had reduced the town to collapsed stone and twisted beams.
*creak—*
She froze.
Above her, a shattered building groaned and began to fall. Reflexively, she ducked and closed her eyes, praying for a miracle.
The crash never came.
Instead, warm arms shielded her.
She opened her eyes to see a man smiling down at her, dust covering his armor.
"You shouldn't be wandering around here. Where are your parents?"
"I-I… I don't know…" Tears filled her eyes.
"I see."
He scanned the area, then called out, "Nolan! Over here!"
Another adventurer jogged over.
"What's wrong?"
"Take this girl somewhere safe. Her parents may still be trapped."
Nolan glanced at the small, trembling child and sighed.
"Come on, little one. We'll keep you safe until they return."
The girl followed him, clutching his sleeve.
The first adventurer turned back toward the ruins. The sky was grey, dust swirling like smoke. He pushed deeper into the collapsed buildings—until something glowing caught his eye.
A survivor?
He rushed inside.
And then froze.
It wasn't a survivor.
It was a nightmare.
A tall creature with pure grey skin.
Arms and legs impossibly long.
And its head—
There **was no head**. Only swirling black smoke with two glowing blue eyes floating inside it.
The adventurer dropped to his knees. His body refused to move.
The creature lowered itself to meet his gaze.
"You are perfect," it said—its voice deep, distorted, wrong.
"P-Perfect…? What are you—"
The creature grabbed his face, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. His legs kicked helplessly.
"Yes… you will be the perfect consciousness for God's usage."
Then it began tearing him apart—piece by piece—until nothing remained but a torso and a head.
Two Days After the Earthquake
A newborn wailed, cuddled in his mother's arms. She rocked him gently, humming until he quieted.
His father sat beside her, pride in his eyes.
Ella, the mother, whispered, "He's beautiful… he looks just like you." She smiled brightly.
Zekra chuckled. "It seems so. Have you decided on a name?"
Ella looked down lovingly.
"Dliva."
"Dliva…" Zekra repeated, testing the sound.
A smile spread across his face. "It's an amazing name."
"Dliva it is, then," Ella said softly.
Soon the child drifted into sleep.
And in his dreams—
a voice unlike anything human echoed through the void.
"Listen, human child. I've chosen you to be the Wanderer. From now on, you shall follow my commands, and in return… you shall receive power."
A pause.
"You will speak of this to no one until I allow it."
Another pause.
"Your first order is simple: learn.
Anything you can.
Books, stories, knowledge of every kind.
Absorb everything until I contact you again."
The voice faded.
"Your path begins now…
"Wanderer."