Chapter 1 – The Strength of a Child

In a lush, untamed forest bathed in ethereal blue light, the shattered world pulsed with quiet life. Beams from the planet’s exposed core shimmered down through the thick canopy, filtering between the swaying branches in radiant streaks. The leaves danced in the breeze, glowing faintly as if kissed by the core itself. Among the winding roots and mossy stones, a young girl darted like a gust of wind.

Arcea — no more than nine years old — leapt over fallen logs and vaulted off boulders with ease, her sandals thudding against the earth. Her short, unkempt pink hair whipped wildly behind her, her laughter echoing like a songbird through the woods. Despite her small frame, her strength was unnatural — monstrous, even. Each bound of her legs sent shockwaves through the ground. Her grey skin shimmered faintly in the light, and her green eyes sparkled with joy. Twin goat-like horns curved out from just behind her forehead, a mark of her demi-human bloodline. She wore only a ragged, one-piece red dress, frayed at the hem and stained from countless days of rough play in the wild.

Then she saw it — a ghostly, glowing orb drifting through the trees like a will-o’-the-wisp.

“Ah! It’s Lumin!” Arcea shouted, breaking into a grin. “That means Dad must be close!”

The translucent orb wobbled happily in the air, then zipped toward a dense thicket, circling it in eager loops. Arcea followed.

The man crouched in the brush was none other than Ash — Arcea’s father.

Ash, in his thirties, crouched low behind the thicket, red eyes focused, his dirty blond hair tied loosely back. He wore a brown sleeveless jacket over a white tank top and jeans tucked into rugged boots. Parts of his skin — from his arms to his side — were ink-black, webbed with glowing golden cracks like molten veins. In his hands, he held a sleek, compact energy rifle — clearly not of this world. The weapon was simple but advanced, and had once belonged to his wife, who carried it with her when they first met. Now, it served as Ash’s tool for hunting in the wilds of the Shattered Lands.

Across from him, a beast had wandered into a clearing — medium-sized, covered in patchy brown fur that twitched with every movement. It walked upright on two jointed hind legs, each step light and deliberate. Three long, thin tails swayed behind it, each one ending in a tuft of thick fur that brushed softly against the ground as it moved.

It didn’t approach the bush immediately. Instead, it paced the edge of the clearing, turning its narrow head from side to side. The short tentacles surrounding its small, circular mouth twitched constantly, tasting the air, probing for any scent of danger. Its eyes scanned the trees, alert and wary.

Only after several tense moments — once it was satisfied it was alone — did it creep toward the berry bush. The tentacles extended slowly and began plucking berries one by one, guiding them into its mouth with precise, practiced motion.

It looked calm. Harmless. Completely unaware it was being watched.

Ash crouched lower, his breath steady and measured. The barrel of his rifle rested against a twisted root, aimed with deliberate precision. His red eyes narrowed, tracking every twitch of the beast’s shoulder.

He exhaled slowly, relaxing into the moment. The forest around him was still, silent — not even the wind dared to move the leaves.

He wrapped his finger over the trigger.

Tension.

Focus.

A heartbeat away from the perfect shot—

“Dad!” Arcea’s voice shattered the silence like a hammer to glass.

BOOM!

The rifle fired high and wide, searing a beam of energy into the treetops.

The beast shrieked and bolted. Birds scattered. Chaos returned.

Ash stared at the empty space where the beast had stood, his expression hollow. “...And there goes dinner,” he muttered.

Arcea bounded into the clearing, all energy and sunshine. “Dad! Dad! Grandpa Toby’s here! He just got in! He’s waiting at home!”

Ash raised an eyebrow. “Toby? He’s a few months early…”

Normally, Toby only visited four times a year, always showing up like clockwork — same months, same week, never a day off schedule. It was a habit that made him oddly reliable, even if his visits were always chaotic.

Ash frowned slightly. Why now? Something must have changed.

Arcea shrugged with a playful grin. “Maybe he got bored of waiting and decided to surprise us early! …Mom really wasn’t happy though — especially because he interrupted her while she was working on her little vegetable garden. You know how she gets when she’s in one of her farming moods.”

Ash sighed, brushing dirt off his knees as he stood. He gave Arcea a pitying look. “You’re not supposed to be out here alone. You know Mom’s going to be even more upset now.”

Her smile faltered. “...Oh.”

Ash slung the rifle onto his back and picked up his polearm from where it rested against a tree. The weapon gleamed with blackened steel, its double-edged blade etched with gold lines that pulsed like veins.

He held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s head home.”

Lumin floated gently through the air, then phased directly into Ash’s chest, vanishing into the glowing cracks in his body.

They walked for a while in companionable silence, the forest stretching out around them in soft blue glow. Arcea skipped ahead now and then, occasionally stopping to poke strange rocks or chase fluttering bugs, while Ash simply followed the trail with quiet ease. Birds chirped, leaves rustled, and for a moment, the world felt calm.

Then, something changed.

The atmosphere shifted — a sharp, instinctive stillness fell over the forest like a held breath. The birds stopped singing. And somewhere up ahead, something massive disturbed the underbrush with a low, rumbling presence. a sharp, instinctive stillness fell over the forest like a held breath.

A large beast stepped into their path — bigger than the last, with two front legs, four back ones, and a flat, stony crest growing from its head like natural armor. Its yellow eyes locked onto them as it snarled, jaws parting in hunger.

Ash stepped forward and raised his polearm, adjusting his grip as the beast lowered its stance.

With a guttural roar, the creature charged — muscles rippling beneath its fur as all six of its legs pounded the ground in a thunderous rhythm. Dirt exploded in its wake, and trees trembled as its massive frame tore through underbrush like a living battering ram. Its stone-plated head lowered, eyes gleaming with primal hunger, turning its entire body into a single weapon of force and fury.

Ash met it head-on, bracing the shaft horizontally across his chest. The beast slammed into him, its bulk colliding with the polearm and pushing him several feet back — dirt and grass tearing beneath his boots.

“Stay back,” Ash said.

“Wait!” Arcea shouted. “Dad, let me handle it! I’ve been practicing! I can control my power now!”

He turned to look at her, doubtful.

She gave him a wide, pleading grin.

“…Fine,” he sighed, stepping back and leaning against a nearby tree. “Let’s see this improvement.”

Arcea bounced on her toes, excitement swelling in her chest.

Suddenly, two more of the same beasts emerged from the trees — one creeping in from the left, the other from the right — slowly surrounding her as they prepared to strike.

Her grin only widened. “Even better.”

She crouched low, then launched forward. The ground beneath her cracked violently, chunks of stone and dirt shooting up in a burst of pressure. She blurred toward the alpha.

It never stood a chance.

Her fist slammed into the flat of its stone-plated head, driving straight through with a sickening crunch. Gore exploded behind the beast as the shockwave rippled through its entire body, rupturing organs and splitting bones from the inside. Its body convulsed — then collapsed into a heap of shredded meat.

With her fist still embedded in its skull, Arcea grinned.

She opened her hand, gripped the backside of its cranium from within, and ripped the top of the skull off, sending brain and bone slopping to the ground. Then she spun in place and hurled the gore-slicked skull at one of the incoming beasts.

The air shrieked around the projectile — a bloody blur of death — before it smashed into the creature’s face with a thunderous crack. Its head snapped back violently, sending the beast crumpling to the ground in a dazed heap.

Ash, still leaning against the tree, reached up and pulled a small, wet chunk of meat from his hair. He flicked it to the ground with a faint scowl and continued watching in silence.

“…Brutal,” he muttered. “She really doesn’t know how to hold back.”

The third beast charged. Arcea didn’t hesitate.

She twisted her body and kicked forward with everything she had, striking it square in the face.

The result was catastrophic.

The creature’s head split clean in half, an earthquake of force ripping through its body. Blood and shredded organs exploded outward like a bomb, coating the trees and grass in a steaming crimson mist. A shard of skull flew past Ash and embedded itself in a tree trunk behind him.

Arcea landed with a splash, the forest now eerily quiet.

Her small frame was covered in blood — from her legs to her arms, soaked so thoroughly that her red dress clung to her like second skin. Her grey skin shimmered under the wet gore.

She looked down at herself and giggled.

“This is why I like my red dress,” she said, twirling once. Droplets of blood flung from the soaked fabric in every direction, splattering the grass in dark red arcs. “You can hardly see the blood!”

She turned to Ash, tired but beaming. Her breath was ragged, her arms trembling.

“So… how’d I do, Dad?”

Ash approached slowly, stepping through puddles of blood, polearm resting on his shoulder. He looked over the battlefield — the torn limbs, the pulped skulls, the puddles of organs and bone that soaked into the dirt.

“You call that controlling your power?” he said. “You used way too much force for beasts like these. You burned through most of your energy in that short fight.”

“But they’re all dead!” she said proudly.

He tilted his head and pointed behind her with the polearm. “But what about the rest of them?”

Arcea’s smile froze. Her head turned like a rusty gear, slow and stiff, as dread crept into her expression.

Five more beasts were slinking out of the forest — eyes wide with fury, blood matting their fur. The rest of the alpha’s pack.

Arcea’s shoulders drooped. “…Dad?”

Ash folded his arms. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Think of it as training.”

The beasts lunged.

Arcea groaned as she turned to meet them.

The fight was brutal — but slower, clumsier. Her strength was still there, but her stamina had burned out. Every strike hit hard, but left her breathless. Her bruised legs struggled to keep moving. Her swings got sluggish. She took hits now — shallow cuts bloomed across her arms and thighs, and her breathing grew ragged.

Still, she fought.

Eventually, she stood alone, heaving.

The clearing was no longer a clearing — it was a charnel pit.

Chunks of flesh, limbs, bone, and unrecognizable viscera littered the grass. Pools of blood soaked deep into the earth. Strands of entrails dangled from trees like grotesque vines. The soil had turned to mud beneath her feet — thick, red, and rippling with every shaky step she took.

Arcea stood hunched forward, drenched in gore. Her limbs trembled, her dress torn nearly to ribbons. Cuts ran along her arms and legs, and her face was streaked with blood, dirt, and sweat.

She limped toward Ash, fuming.

“I’m your daughter! How could you just stand there?! That was mean, Dad!”

Ash didn’t respond. He turned sharply and began walking.

“Toby’s waiting,” he said flatly. “We should hurry.”

He moved with purpose now, stepping over entrails and shredded fur without flinching.

Arcea stomped after him, muttering curses under her breath, arms crossed tight, her green eyes fixed into a pout so sharp it could’ve cut stone. She glared at his back like she wanted to set it on fire.

Behind them, the forest was silent again — blanketed in blood and steam.

Eventually, Ash and Arcea appeared through the treeline, finally returning home: a small clearing in the forest where the trees opened up into a wide, sunlit space.

In front of them stood a log cabin, raised a few feet off the ground and surrounded by a wraparound deck shaded by a wooden overhang. Chairs, tables, tools, and other miscellaneous items cluttered the space, giving the home a well-lived-in feel. A stairway led down to the forest floor, and off one side of the deck, a walkway connected the cabin to a large tool shed — nearly the same size as the home itself.

Not far from the shed, training dummies stood in formation. The earth around them was bare, packed and scarred, as if the ground itself had surrendered to constant movement. Wooden weapons were scattered across the area, some broken, others half-buried in the dirt. This was where Arcea practiced — where she learned, failed, and tried again.

Various workbenches lay around the yard under leather overhangs, built to withstand the elements. The space was practical, rugged — a blend of survival and stubborn routine.

Behind the training area, a narrow path snaked into the trees where a lone tombstone stood in quiet vigil. The soft blue light of the planet’s core filtered through the branches above, casting streaks of pale luminescence over the stone. It stood like a silent guardian beneath the canopy, watching over the family from the shadows — a quiet reminder of someone lost, yet never forgotten.

To the front and right of the house stretched a curving, split-corner vegetable garden that wrapped around the homestead in a soft arc before bending sharply beneath the open forest canopy. The plot was dense with rows of thriving greens, vibrant roots, and tall herbs that danced faintly beneath the light of the exposed core above, rows of greens, roots, and herbs thriving in the broken soil. This was Iris’s pride — her garden — and in its midst, hunched over with a pained groan, was an old man.

Toby, in his sixties, bore the look of a war-weathered beast: gray hair, a scruffy beard, tanned skin from years beneath the core’s light, and deep scars etched across his arms and neck. Dressed in simple robes and sandals, he leaned heavily on a hoe, clearly more at home in battle than in farming.

A few feet from him stood Iris — Arcea’s mother, Ash’s wife. Her green skin glowed faintly in the soft light, her long purple hair falling in thick waves that obscured her right eye — and the eyepatch beneath it. Her blue eye narrowed as her ears twitched.

She turned. Saw Ash. Her expression shifted from curiosity to annoyance… and then to fury as she spotted Arcea behind him, arms and legs caked in dried blood, scratches, bruises, and streaks of gore still clinging to her face.

“You are in big trouble, young lady,” Iris snapped, storming forward. “Running off on your own like that? Get over here — you’re getting cleaned up after your punishment!”

Arcea winced, wide-eyed. “S-Sorry, Mom! I, uh… I forgot! I still have more training to do!”

She spun and sprinted toward the training ground.

Lumin burst from Ash’s chest, zipping after her in a swirl of disapproval.

“Get back here and take a bath before a Corpse Eater gets hungry and gobbles you up!” Iris shouted, vanishing around the side of the shed in pursuit. She moved like a ghost — swift, silent, and terrifying.

Toby straightened with a groan, one hand on his back. “Hunching over in that damn garden does a number on your spine…”

Ash walked past him without comment.

“Come on,” he finally muttered. “Let’s have a seat.”

He pointed to the shaded table and chairs on the deck. Without a word, Toby slung a weathered sack from the ground, tossed it over his shoulder, and followed. They stepped up the stairs in silence. Ash set his rifle and polearm against the cabin wall, and the two of them sat down across from each other.

Toby grinned through his beard. “Guess you figured me out already. Well… I can tell you right now, you’re really not going to like what I’ve brought to the table this time.”

Toby paused, scratching the back of his neck, knowing Ash wouldn’t take it well. “I have a job for you… from the Adventurers' Guild.”

Ash raised an eyebrow, his expression turning flat. “Aren’t you retired? Why are you delivering missions to me from the guild? And you know I quit after Arcea was born. So if they’re still sending you all the way out here to drag me back in, it must be more than just important — it has to be serious.”

Before Toby could respond, a loud wooden scrape cut through the quiet — the sound of something heavy being dragged across the deck with no grace or care. It wasn’t the deliberate movement of furniture or a tool, but something struggling, alive, and mildly resistant. The noise grew louder until Iris came into view, her expression stormy, one hand clamped firmly around Arcea’s horns as she hauled the limp, exhausted girl around the corner like a sack of soaked grain. Without a word, she lifted the girl — dress and all — and dropped her straight into a giant wash tub normally used for laundry. She flipped a valve on the nearby pipe and rainwater spilled down from a storage tank into the basin.

“Ahh! It’s cold!” Arcea shrieked, squirming to avoid the icy stream pouring in.

Iris crossed her arms and turned toward the conversation. “So what’s this job they want Ash to do?”

Toby blinked. “How did you—” He stopped himself, remembering Iris’s sharp ears. “...Never mind.”

He coughed into his hand. “Well… don’t get mad, but the request is from Mayor Bernswick.”

The moment the name left his lips, he winced and covered his ears.

“Fuck no.”

Both Ash and Iris spoke in unison.

Ash’s voice dropped into a growl. “You know damn well why I wouldn’t accept anything from that bastard. I had a plan to kill him. It was nearly done. And then Arcea was born. So we shelved it. For now.”

Arcea poked her head out of the bloody water, blinking. Iris had grabbed a brush and was already scrubbing her down with the same stern energy she used in battle.

“What’d that bad man do?” Arcea asked.

Ash looked away, his jaw tight. “He’s the reason your grandparents are dead. And he’s the one who took your mother’s eye. He’s a greedy, evil man who doesn’t deserve to keep breathing.”. “So no. I won’t do it. If you want it done so badly, Toby, you can do it yourself.”

Toby raised his hands defensively, his voice anxious. “Wait, wait, please — I would do it if I could! But I’m too damn old for this. My bones don’t move like they used to. Just… hear me out first. I wouldn’t bring this to you if I didn’t have a reason.”

Before Ash could reply, a sharp pop echoed from behind them, followed by the sound of draining water. The wash tub was emptying.

Iris tossed a towel onto Arcea’s head. “Go inside. Dry off and get ready for bed.”

Arcea caught the look in her mother’s eye — that fierce, no-nonsense stare — and didn’t argue. She wrapped herself in the towel, slipped off the edge of the tub, and ran inside without another word.

Iris stepped up beside the cabin door and leaned against the frame, arms crossed. “This better be good. Spit it out, Toby.”

Toby sighed. “For the past few hundred years, people in Bernswick Village have gone missing every few years. No one thought much of it. But in the past month alone, over fifty farmers have vanished.”

Iris narrowed her eyes. “What about the RUIN soldiers stationed there? Shouldn’t they be guarding the place?”

“You wouldn’t know this, being secluded for so long,” Toby said grimly, “but around the time Arcea was born, RUIN started pulling their soldiers out of the cities and villages. They’ve all returned to the top layer, or were sent back to Aegirath — RUIN’s capital.”

Ash let out a quiet breath of relief. “That’s good. Means I don’t have to worry about RUIN finding out about me. Not yet, anyway. I should be able to enter the cities just fine now, too — as long as I keep my head down.”

“Iris narrowed her eyes and asked, “Then who’s protecting Bernswick? I doubt that bastard would just leave his town unguarded. But… it would be a good opportunity to kill that asshole.””

“Mechanical golems,” Toby said. “RUIN left a few behind because they rely on Bernswick’s food shipments. But Bernswick only uses them to guard his mansion, his spoiled kids, and the farmland closest to him. The rest of the village is on its own.”

Ash frowned. “And the disappearances?”

“They’re all farmhands,” Toby said. “The golems don’t do anything. The village can’t meet RUIN’s food demands this cycle. And for some reason, RUIN’s request was… abnormally large.”

The cabin door creaked open.

Arcea returned in her bedclothes and quietly sat down beside Iris, listening.

“So what’s abducting the villagers?” Ash asked.

Toby’s face hardened. “So far, only one witness managed to escape and hide. Said it looked like a beast — but walked like a man. Fast. Silent. Precise.”

He exhaled slowly. “One of the people taken was my granddaughter. It happened weeks before the guild even bothered to post the request — Bernswick didn’t take the disappearances seriously until the numbers started stacking up. And I’m just too old to track something like this down. That’s why I brought it to you.”

Ash raised a brow. “Why not ask someone from the guild? There’s plenty of able adventurers.”

“There were,” Toby said, his voice tight. “But just a few weeks ago, a group of abominations tore through part of Evergreen City’s outer wall. What was strange is that they were working together — something they never do. They took children, entire families. The guild had to send out rescue teams composed of some of their top adventurers to track the missing and secure the breach. Nearly every available adventurer was mobilized for the effort, leaving no one else to take on new jobs.”

Ash leaned back in his chair. “Alright. I understand. Because it’s you, Toby… I’ll help.”

Toby let out a breath of relief and reached into his satchel. “Good, good. Here — take this.”

He handed Ash a necklace with a small, worn charm, his hand trembling slightly. “My granddaughter had one exactly like this. If she’s… if you find her…” His voice trailed off, and for a brief moment, the weariness in his eyes deepened — not just the weight of years, but of helplessness, fear, and unspoken grief. He cleared his throat. “This will help you identify her.”

Ash held the necklace in silence, then gave a small nod.

Toby dropped the satchel onto the table with a thunk, the weight of it echoing louder than necessary — as if trying to push away the heaviness of what had just been said. He forced a smile, his tone lighter now, trying to lift the gloom in the air. “Alright, enough of that. I brought some things to help. Don’t expect high quality — just things that might be useful.”

He reached in and pulled out a bracer-like device. It had a translucent gem embedded in it, surrounded by tiny mechanical parts and thin, glowing lines that resembled circuitry. “Figured you might get a kick out of this one,” he added, pushing it across the table toward Ash.

Ash leaned in. “What’s this?”

“They call it a Soul Capacitor,” Toby said. “I haven’t used one myself, but from what I’ve heard, it lets the wearer absorb fragments of souls from nearby dying creatures — monsters, animals, people… whatever. Souls disperse fast, but this thing grabs a sliver before it fades, stores it in the gem, and strengthens your own soul over time. Little by little, it makes you stronger.”

Arcea’s eyes lit up. “If you kill a lot, wouldn’t you get super strong?”

Toby chuckled. “Not quite. Each Soul Capacitor can only hold so much — depends on the gem inside. It might be possible in the future — once they invent better ones.”

He reached into the bag again and pulled out five small, transparent Core Orbs. Inside, glowing particles shimmered in various colors — green, black, brown, red, and pale blue.

“Wait! Don’t touch,” Toby said, as Arcea reached toward one.

“These are Core Orbs. They’re filled with elemental energy extracted from core shards. Throw one, and it explodes with its element. Not very powerful — these are low grade — but useful. You can even light a campfire with the red one or blast out water with the blue.”

Arcea pulled her hand back.

“These aren’t common tech,” Iris said, examining the strange armguard more closely. Her fingers traced the etched lines, pausing over the embedded gem. “It's too advanced for anyone down here to have invented… not with RUIN holding everything back.”

“You’re right,” Toby said. “The Resistance stole the schematics from a RUIN facility five years ago. Took time, but they figured it out. Now it’s spreading. Even merchants sell them.”

Iris narrowed her eyes. “Interesting… but dangerous.”

Toby nodded. “Exactly. But at least now people have a fighting chance.”

He glanced at the sky — the light from the core was dimming as one of the Night Stones shifted.

“I’d better go. I want to be past the Fallen Forest before it gets too dark.”

Ash stood, the old wooden chair creaking beneath him as it slid back against the deck. “I’ll walk you out,” he said.

He grabbed his polearm, the weapon's weight familiar in his hands. The old wooden chair creaked as Ash stood, sliding back slightly across the deck. He grabbed his polearm, its metal cool in his grip, and headed down the steps alone, waiting at the base for Toby to say his goodbyes.

Toby turned to Arcea and ruffled her hair. “You keep training, alright? By the time I come back, if you’ve improved, I’ll have something special for you.”

Arcea’s eyes lit up. “Really? I’ve been getting better every day!” She hugged him tightly.

Iris crossed her arms. “If you show up like this again, you’ll be spending a week working in my garden.”

Toby paled. “Next time I’m sending a trained Copy Beast instead.”

“Good,” Iris said.

She turned to Arcea. “Come help me make dinner, then it’s bedtime for you.”

The wooden door creaked open as Iris stepped inside first, her silhouette framed by the dimming blue light of the core. Arcea lingered on the porch a moment longer, giving Toby one last wave with a small smile. She turned, and stepped inside after her mother. The door groaned on its hinges, closing with a soft click behind them as the warm glow of the cabin swallowed them both, casting flickering shadows on the wooden walls as they entered.

Toby slung his sack over his shoulder and walked south through the trees with Ash at his side. As Lumin drifted in and out of the air around them, Toby rubbed the ground of his beard thoughtfully, eyes squinting with curiosity as he watched the glowing orb dance through the air.

“I’ve always wondered… what is that thing?”

Ash shrugged. “No idea. Maybe a parasite. It’s lived inside me since I was a kid.”

Lumin buzzed angrily through Ash’s torso, zipping in and out in a flurry of light before disappearing into his chest again.

Toby laughed. “Guess that answer pissed it off.”

They reached the edge of the forest. Ash stopped walking.

“Thanks again,” Toby said. “If I were younger… I’d have handled this myself. Getting old sucks.”

Ash smirked. “For this job… you owe me one.”

Toby raised a hand without turning. “Yeah, yeah. You got it.”

He waved once and disappeared into the darkening path, walking southwest toward the Fallen Forest, the fading blue light of the core casting long shadows behind him.