The Void in the Stomach.

The sun of the Altverse rose on the horizon.

Asimil woke not from the horror of a nightmare, but from a wet, ticklish sensation on his nose. Opening his eyes, he found himself face-to-face with the blue snout of the Two-Tailed Fox, mere centimeters away. The small animal, now free from the wounds that had plagued it in the ruins, wagged its tails with a frenetic rhythm, celebrating the start of the day from Asimil's bed.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he hadn't woken up sweating. No choked screams. Only the peaceful silence of his room in the Harmonia Clan.

"Okay, okay... I'm awake," murmured Asimil with a genuine smile, stroking the creature's soft fur.

He stretched, feeling his muscles weren't tense. It was a perfect dawn. A dawn without pain... or so he thought, until his stomach emitted a roar that sounded like an earthquake in a cave.

"Darn it... I think I forgot to buy supplies yesterday," he sighed.

After dressing in a hurry, he left the room. The fox accompanied him to the hallway before darting off toward the clan exit; today it was time to return to its true owner, a high-ranking administrator who had surely missed it. Asimil watched it go, feeling a small pang of loneliness, but hunger was a much more urgent enemy for him.

In the clan tavern, the aroma of freshly baked bread and exotic spices hung in the air. Behind the counter was Eldrin Cachehart, a burly man with a face etched with scars that told stories of battles the world had already forgotten.

"Asimil!" exclaimed Eldrin, tossing him a napkin. "You're just in time for the morning special."

"Hey, old man Eldrin. I need a super meal, I feel like my mana bar is crashing," Asimil joked, sitting at the counter.

Eldrin laughed, a deep laugh that always managed to calm the novices' nerves. As he prepared a plate of Roc eggs and mountain boar bacon, he began to recount one of his famous anecdotes.

"...and there we were, surrounded by three Obsidian Golems at the Northern Frontier. My sword was broken, but my will…" Eldrin gestured with a kitchen knife as if it were a legendary claymore.

Asimil listened, fascinated. Eldrin's stories were the closest thing to a survival manual he had. Just as the cook placed the steaming plate in front of him, and Asimil picked up the cutlery with hands trembling in anticipation... the world began to turn against him.

A small, pale hand closed on his shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing, Asimil?" Noelia's voice was like a jet of ice water down his back, provoking a shiver.

Asimil looked at the plate. He looked at Noelia. Her emerald eyes shone with that authoritative impatience he was beginning to know all too well.

"Noelia... please, just one bite..." Asimil pleaded, a tear almost welling in his eye.

"Not a single bite," she sentenced. "Sacres has been looking for you for ten minutes. You're delaying the day's schedule. Let's go."

"But Eldrin said the bacon is...!"

Noelia didn't wait. She grabbed the back of his tunic and dragged him out of the tavern like a sack of potatoes. Eldrin could only wave, shrugging with a "sorry, kid" smile.

Sacres was waiting for them in the main hall, reviewing a map. Seeing Noelia arrive dragging a hunger-weakened Asimil, the mentor sighed.

"Noelia, there's no need to treat him like a prisoner," said Sacres, though his tone was amused.

"It's the only way he understands," she replied, releasing him.

Sacres extended a sealed scroll to Asimil. "Asimil, I need you to go to the Citadel center. An important client has left some equipment supplies we need for the next expedition. It's a simple task for the novices."

Asimil reluctantly accepted the scroll. His stomach growled again, this time so loudly that Sacres raised an eyebrow.

"Go on, lad. Be quick and maybe Noelia will let you eat something when you get back," the mentor said with a wink.

The Citadel of Aethel was a festival of beautiful textures. Humans in armor, tall Elves, Gnomes carrying noisy tools, and Beastmen in gleaming armor walked under the violet-tinted sky. At any other time, Asimil would have spent hours observing the diversity of the races, but now he only saw food stalls... and he had no time to stop.

Suddenly, a sharp shriek broke the bustle. In a side alley, three subjects in dark armor without clan insignias surrounded a Yellow-Striped Prowler, a small, single-tailed animal hissing in terror.

For a moment, Asimil thought about walking past. He wasn't a high enough level to face them. However, Asimil could see the terror in that creature's eyes. A terror that resembled fear, and of all people, he could understand those emotions.

Asimil, afraid and not knowing what fate held for him in that instant, shouted for them to leave the creature alone.

The three men turned. The leader, a guy with a scar on his lip, laughed upon seeing Asimil's white rank. "Look at this, boys. A novice trying to be a hero."

Asimil didn't give a response, at least not a verbal one. He threw a direct punch at the leader's face, but his movement was slow and clumsy. The man dodged easily and delivered a knee to Asimil's ribs. Asimil gasped, feeling the air leave him. He tried to use his skills, but his legs trembled with weakness. He took a blow to the shoulder and another to the stomach that sent him crashing against the wall.

"You're resilient, trash," said the third subject, drawing a dagger with a yellowish aura. "But that won't save you now."

Asimil clenched his fists, trying to summon his emerald flame, but darkness was beginning to close his vision. Just as the leader raised his fist for the final blow, time seemed to stop.

A dark blur crossed the alley. It was a movement so fast it didn't seem like a combat animation, but a gust of black wind. Asimil, squinting from the glare of the sun behind the figure's silhouette, could only see an outline with long, dark hair.

Two of the subjects went flying into wooden crates. The leader didn't even have time to react before the girl swept his feet and pinned him to the ground.

Asimil slumped down, exhausted. The figure approached him. The sun prevented him from seeing her face, but the scent she gave off felt so familiar; it smelled of something real, something he knew. She extended a hand to him, and her voice, a serene and deep melody, resonated in the alley:

"You were very brave, defending that little animal all alone... even when your own body was betraying you."

Asimil stretched out his hand, barely brushing the girl's fingers. He felt a discharge of energy that wasn't normal. But before he could grasp hers, the shouts of the Citadel guards flooded the alley entrance.

"Over here! Quickly!"

The girl withdrew her hand and looked in the direction opposite the approaching guards. "Keep moving forward, Asimil Nagatomo."

In a blink, she disappeared, leaping between buildings with incredible speed. Asimil tried to shout, to ask her who she was, but the dizziness was total. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed on the ground, fainting from hunger and all the damage he had taken.

A few minutes later, a rough, warm tongue licked his cheek. Asimil opened his eyes and saw the little yellow creature looking at him with curious eyes.

"Wake up, kid," said a guard, helping him sit up. "You were lucky. That person looked after you; these three were very dangerous individuals."

Asimil looked up at the empty rooftops. The guards were hauling away the three delinquents, but he cared about only one thing. He touched his hand, the same one she had almost taken. He didn't know her name, didn't know where she came from, but he felt that dark-haired woman had seen him somewhere before.

"Who are you...?" he whispered, as the little Yellow-Striped Prowler rubbed against him, purring. It was the second creature that, like the fox, had found solace in his presence. As if something in his essence, perhaps that very ability that absorbed pain, emitted a calm that only the most innocent beings could perceive.