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The Fool and the Beauty

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Synopsis
Lucien Vesper, the last true descendant of the high human race, lay entombed deep within the earth's unyielding embrace by his father—the Great Fool—to preserve their ancient bloodline against oblivion. But after a millennium's relentless siege, the seal frayed, threads of fate unraveling like a tapestry worn by time. It shattered at last, birthing the new and final Fool: his eyes snapped open, twin voids of obsidian fire drinking in the alien world reborn.
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Chapter 1 - Chains of the Fool

Beneath ancient forbidden runes, deep in a dark crypt where shadows hung like old ghosts, a boy lay chained like a wild beast for over a thousand years.

Lucien Vesper stirred—his emerald-brown eyes shining under messy grayish hair, pale skin bright against the cold stone—the last son of the Great Lord Fool, hidden underground by his father to escape the angels' anger.

A thousand years wore down the chains' magic until they grew weak, like dry leaves falling. Lucien's eyes opened wide, blue firelight hitting them like sharp needles. Thick dust-filled air burned his lungs as he coughed hard, his chest on fire.

Dark ceilings rose above, carved with fading marks; ice covered the floor like a cold blanket. His chained hands and feet shone dimly. In a weak voice, fear rising: Who am I? What is this place?

A soft warmth stirred on his lap. He peered down, breath catching. A... cat?

With a shaky shove, he pushed the furry thing away. Desperation gripped him—he pinched its side lightly.

"Ahh! Ouch, you stone-hearted bastard—what do you think you're doing?"

The creature spoke. Human words, sharp as broken glass. It reared up—nine tails unfurling like living flames, eyes glowing amber. Lucien recoiled, chains rattling, his back slamming stone.

"Shoo! Shoo, you freakish cat-thing! Who are you? Why sleep on me—waiting to snack after a nap?"

A sly chuckle rippled through the air. "Heh. Silence, fool. Show respect. I am Lilly, the ancient Nine-Tailed Fox—your spiritual guardian."

"Guardian?" Lucien's voice cracked with suspicion, emerald eyes narrowing. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Lilly's eyes gleamed with ancient mischief. "Listen, boy—I've guarded you since they buried you here a thousand years ago. I'm getting you out, so that makes me your master. Hohoho!"

Lucien stared, face twisting. "Fine, master. How do I break these chains?"

She padded closer. One paw brushed the iron—it melted like water, dissolving into mist. Lucien staggered up, legs buckling after a millennium's sleep.

"Uff, can't even walk?" Lilly shook her head, tails flicking. "Pathetic."

"Shut it, cheese-cat," he snapped. "How do we escape?"

"Just follow me, fool." She trotted ahead. Lucien limped after, chains' weight gone but body betraying him.

"Careful—traps everywhere," she warned.

He froze, eyes darting, heart slamming. They crept onward, faint light piercing the gloom ahead.

"Exit!" Lucien gasped.

"Easy paths hide teeth," Lilly growled.

"Fox paranoia." He lunged—

Fresh air flooded his lungs. Ruins crumbled behind. The sky—endless blue—hit like forgotten freedom. How long?

"Wait, idiot!"

Too late. His boot crunched a gleaming stone. Earth shuddered. Stone split wide, birthing nightmare: three heads snarling, rock body rippling with six arms.

"Ancient Cerberus!" Lilly yelped.

Day one and dead? Lucien's blood froze. "Run!"

"Spell it out?" He bolted for the forest, branches lashing. Lilly ballooned—nine tails blazing true form—leaping onto the beast's back, claws rending stone as Lucien plunged into green shadows.

He ran like a rabbit, heart thundering, monster roars echoing behind. A river gleamed ahead—he didn't stop, feet pounding faster.

His boot caught roots. He stumbled, plunged into icy water that shocked his skin. Coughing as it filled his lungs, he thrashed weakly, arms sweeping.

A splash nearby. His vision blurred, hands slowing. Fingers gripped his wrist—who?—but darkness claimed him.

Lucien woke on damp ground, gasping. He lurched up, scanning for Lilly. "Cunning fox! Hide and seek?"

A soft, sweet voice answered. "Is this thanks for pulling you from death?"

He spun. A girl stood there—deep blue eyes, long white curly hair, snow-pale skin, white dress hiked as she wrung out water.

His old rags were gone. Now: rich formal combat gear, an ancient sword shriveled like a bent knife at his hip, metal mask dangling. Burning pain flared at his neck's nape, growing sharper.

He stepped toward her, words forming—

Pressure slammed his heart, like a blade slicing through. Vision blackened. He crumpled.

As consciousness faded, a rune on his palm flickered: Fool's blood awakens...