The Stonefang Tribe was a land of giants.
Men with shoulders as broad as shields. Women who could snap tree trunks with a single swing of an axe. Children who learned to wrestle wolves before they learned to walk.
In this land of strength, Kael was born small.
Too small.
When he first opened his eyes as an infant, the tribe's shamans whispered:
> "A weakling… born of strong blood."
And when his mother died during childbirth, the whispers turned to curses.
> "He killed her."
"He brought misfortune."
His father, Chief Brakkar Stonefang, the strongest barbarian in three generations, never held him. Never looked at him longer than a heartbeat. Kael grew up seeing that look disappointment sharpened into hatred.
By age seven, Kael's life was already decided.
He carried water instead of axes.
Cleaned blood from the training grounds instead of spilling it.
Ate scraps while other children feasted.
When he was beaten by the stronger boys which was often the adults would only laugh.
> "If he breaks, he deserves to."
"Better this one dies early."
But Kael did not break.
Because at the age of eight on the morning after another beating left him half-conscious something inside him changed.
He remembered another world.
Another life.
Concrete streets. School desks. Phones. Workouts. Martial arts videos. A whole life in a place where strength wasn't about being a giant… but about technique, skill, and discipline.
He remembered dying.
He remembered his last breath in that world.
And waking here, in this brutal land.
And with those memories came a vow:
"If I cannot win with strength… I will win with knowledge."
Kael trained in secret.
Not like the barbarians did, with mindless smashing and roaring but with controlled movements.
Push-ups with correct form.
Breathing exercises.
Footwork drills he copied from old memories of boxing and martial arts.
His body changed slowly, but sharper. Faster. More coordinated.
Still small, still weak… but growing in a different direction.
---
One day, the chief brought home a new wife.
A tall, fierce woman from the neighboring Ironhide Clan.
She looked at Kael like he was dirt stuck to her boot.
Her son Kael's half-brother was born soon after.
The child was everything the tribe worshiped:
Big
Loud
Strong within months
The tribe called him Rogan the Prodigy.
And Kael?
Now he was truly forgotten.
No longer even worth mocking.
He became a shadow walking between giants.
---
The day everything changed came when Kael turned twelve.
The tribe gathered around the fire pit for the Rite of Blood, where every child awakened their Body-Type by eating the heart of a beast they hunted.
Kael was the last to step forward.
Rogan awakened a Titan Frame the ground shook when he flexed.
Cheers echoed. Meat and ale were thrown in celebration.
Kael approached the fire in silence.
No one cheered.
His father didn't even look up.
Kael lifted the beast's heart and bit into it. The iron taste of blood filled his mouth. A burning heat rushed into his chest, into his bones, into his very soul.
His vision darkened.
His heart thundered.
His muscles trembled.
And then—
He awakened.
But not into bulk.
Not into the massive Titan form his tribe worshipped.
His body instead felt… lighter.
Sharper.
Alive in a way no barbarian had ever felt.
Unseen by others, dark veins pulsed briefly under his skin not with strength, but with potential.
The tribe murmured.
"Why isn't he growing?"
"Is he failing?"
"What kind of awakening is that?"
The shaman placed a hand on Kael's shoulder.
His face went pale.
He stepped back in fear.
> "T-this child… awakened a Void Frame."
The tribe fell silent.
Then the whispers began.
"A cursed body."
"A monster's seed."
"Something unnatural."
Kael stood there, trembling not from fear, but from the overwhelming energy racing inside him.
His father rose from his throne of beast bones.
He walked toward Kael.
For the first time in Kael's life… the chief looked directly at him.
But there was no pride.
No acceptance.
Only anger.
> "You shame this tribe again," Brakkar said.
"Leave my sight."
Kael did not bow.
He simply walked away, the firelight behind him, the cold darkness ahead.
Inside him, the Void Frame whispered:
"Grow. Adapt. Survive."
And for the first time in twelve years…
Kael felt hope.