Chapter 0: Prologue — The Moment He Should Have Died

Death was supposed to be the end. For Gideon, it was merely the beginning of something far worse.

Blood dripped onto the cold stone floor. Slow. Rhythmic. Each drop echoed through the pitch-black dungeon—a clock chiming the final seconds of a guttering life.

A youth slumped against the wall. Black hair, matted and filthy, clung to a skull slick with gore. His eyes—sharp, draconic gold—remained open, though the light within them was fading.

Gideon Varkhal.

His body was a map of lacerations. His left hand trembled, pressing against a jagged abdominal wound to stem the relentless flow of life.

But it was his right side that drew the eye. There was nothing. A void. Since birth, that limb had never existed.

Enough...

His breath hitched. In the end, the path led here. He offered a thin, bitter smile.

The Royal Army. The supposed shields of the people. They were the ones who had cast him into this abyss—a dungeon from which no soul emerged alive.

“So... this is how it ends.”

His voice was a ghost, nearly swallowed by the dark.

Then, something answered.

“A wretched fate, human.”

The voice was heavy. Deep. It was a sound that had no business existing in the silence of the grave.

Gideon forced his eyelids upward. Before him stood a dragon.

Massive. Its hide was a bruised, midnight blue—the color of a night that devours light. Its crimson eyes burned with a cold, pitiless intensity.

“Out of the frying pan... into the fire.”

The dragon’s voice vibrated through the chamber walls. Gideon let out a wet, raspy chuckle, blood bubbling at his lips.

“Funny... First time I’ve met a dragon... who knows human proverbs.”

More blood spilled. He wasn't entirely sure how he was still conscious.

The dragon remained silent for a heartbeat. Then:

“Our fates are not so different.”

The Great Beast narrowed its eyes.

“Both discarded. Cast aside by those who were meant to be ‘ours’.”

Gideon frowned through the haze. “Since when... did dragons share the lot of men?”

Silence reigned. When the voice returned, it was deeper, resonant with ancient history.

“Since centuries ago.” “When we lived as one.” “Before the war. Before the ruin.”

Gideon did not answer. Not for lack of will, but because his body had reached its limit.

What... what does that mean...?

His vision blurred into a gray fog.

“My name is Abomination.”

The dragon stepped forward. Each movement increased the atmospheric pressure until the very air felt like it would crush his lungs.

“What is your name, fledgling?”

Gideon was silent for several seconds. A weak, final smile touched his face.

“Since we’re... both dying here...” “I suppose... it doesn’t matter.”

His breathing became shallow, fragmented.

“Gideon... but people... usually call me Geed.”

“I see.”

For the first time, the dragon smiled. It was the expression of one who had recovered a relic lost to time.

In that instant—

“Ugh—!”

Gideon coughed up a spray of crimson. His body collapsed. His consciousness began to fracture.

So this is the answer. Everything I endured... just to reach this. Death.

However—

“Geed.”

The tone shifted. It was no longer distant. No longer cold.

“Do you truly think... now that I have found you...”

The pressure in the room spiked.

“...that I would let you die?”

The dragon’s eyes erupted in a blinding radiance.

“Never.”

The word thundered.

“Never!”

The dungeon groaned and shook.

“I will never let you die alone again!”

In a flash, the dragon’s form dissolved. Light. Pure. Blinding. A searing white sun that pierced Gideon’s dying frame.

“AAAAAAAGH—!”

A scream tore from his throat. His entire being was set ablaze. It was as if a furnace had been ignited within his soul. Tendons snapped taut; bones vibrated with a violent frequency.

Something was entering. Something was alive.

“With this, we are whole again, Geed.”

The voice now resonated from within his own chest.

“Even if you do not remember...” “...I have waited for you for so very long.”

“Stop—!!”

But his body could not resist. The pain was too vast, too deep.

And then, there was only darkness.

When Gideon opened his eyes again, the dungeon remained. The cold walls. The copper scent of blood. Everything was the same.

And yet, he was changed.

“The dragon...?”

Gone. No light. No voice. Only himself. And... his right arm.

It was there.

But it was not human. Midnight-blue scales armored the limb. A wild, predatory energy pulsed beneath the surface, like a living creature breathing under his skin.

“What... is this?”

His heart hammered against his ribs. His breath came in jagged gasps.

“WHAT IS THIS—?!”

A final, visceral shriek shook the foundations of the dungeon. The tremors raced through every corridor. In the deep shadows, the monsters fell silent.

For the first time, they felt something far more terrifying than themselves.

In the heart of the abyss, something new had been born.