"It's dark... why is it so dark?"
He groggily opened his eyes, only to find himself in an unfamiliar village.
Boros sat up atop a wooden barrel, clutching his head as a throbbing pain pulsed through his skull.
A sharp headache followed, forcing a grimace from his lips.
"...Bo... Boros?" he muttered.
His eyes widened slightly.
"My name is Boros..."
A grin slowly spread across his face.
"I finally remembered it... after such a long time."
"Tch."
The pain surged again. He grabbed his head, teeth clenched as fragments of memory flooded his mind. Images clashed violently, forcing him to fight back a scream.
Then-silence.
He gasped, breathing heavily.
"I was... accused?" he muttered. "Accused of what?"
Frustration twisted his expression. He shook his head violently, even striking it with his palm, desperate to force more memories to surface-but nothing came.
All his life, he had tried to remember his past. But every attempt always failed.
Why was today different?
His gaze drifted to his hands-scarred, bruised.
The headache struck again.
This time, a vision burned itself into his mind.
A man.
Standing amidst roaring flames.
"...Fire," Boros whispered as the pain subsided.
"To withstand that much... and create it as well-it has to be a Longinus ability."
Confusion furrowed his brow.
"What does the Fire Longinus have to do with my past...?"
He rested a finger against his lips, sitting silently atop the barrel as his thoughts churned.
Then-clarity.
"That's it."
He straightened.
"I'll find the Fire Longinus user and ask him. If he appeared in my memories, then he must know something about my past."
His expression darkened as another memory surfaced-clearer than the rest.
Not from his life as a god.
Something recent.
Something unfinished.
He rubbed the bruises along his arms.
"...I still have something to take care of."
His eyes hardened.
"Ten years should be enough."
Boros clenched his fists.
"I'll handle it while I search for the Fire Longinus user."
Lost in pain and muttered thoughts, Boros failed to notice his surroundings.
The village he sat within was peaceful-alive. The sun hung high in a clear sky, casting warmth over wooden homes lined neatly along dirt paths. Laughter drifted through the air, carried alongside the scent of fresh timber and blooming greenery.
It was calm.
Too calm.
Boros lifted his gaze.
In the distance, a crowd had gathered. Villagers clustered together, voices raised in excitement-celebration.
"I wonder what's going on over there..." he muttered, rubbing his temple.
Then-
He stood.
Something changed.
The confusion in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, vacant stillness. His posture straightened unnaturally, movements deliberate-as though guided by an unseen will.
Without a word, Boros began to walk.
Silent.
Unnoticed.
As he drew closer, the source of the celebration became clear.
A child.
The villagers surrounded him, lifting the boy into the air before catching him again, laughter spilling freely. Whatever had occurred, it was obvious they believed it a blessing.
Boros slipped through the crowd, unseen amidst their joy.
Until he stopped.
Standing directly before the child.
He looked down at him.
Then placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.
For a brief moment-
Everything froze.
Boros' fingers slid upward.
And closed around the child's neck.
"What is he-"
Crack.
The sound cut through the celebration like shattered glass.
The child's body went limp.
Screams erupted instantly-terror replacing joy in a heartbeat. Men lunged forward, rage and horror driving them as they charged Boros, intent on tearing him apart.
Boros didn't react.
He merely stared ahead, expression calm-almost bored-as he held the lifeless body aloft.
Then-
He snapped his fingers.
The sound echoed once.
And the world died.
Ice exploded outward in every direction-consuming homes, trees, earth, and flesh alike. The village vanished beneath a frozen tomb, screams silenced mid-breath as the forest itself was swallowed whole.
In an instant-
Everything was still.
Entombed in ice.
He strolled away from the frozen village.
In a low, deliberate voice, he murmured,
"This should suffice as a declaration of my return..."
In this realm, two paths lead to the coveted Longinus abilities.
The first is a journey of discipline and devotion, where one's Nexus is harmonized with the elemental forces through rigorous training and meditation.
The second path is darker, far more sinister-power is seized by taking the life of the person who wields it.
Even this seemingly straightforward method carries a steep price: unyielding dedication, exacting mastery, and the ever-present risk of catastrophe. For the unprepared, the fusion of power becomes unstable, culminating in a maelstrom of destruction-leaving only ashes and ruin.
By embracing the darkness of this path, Boros had claimed the 'Ice Longinus' ability, heralding a new era of dominance.
A week had passed since he awoke at the village.
As he ventured deeper into the forest, his stomach growled-a hollow reminder that he had gone days without sustenance.
Yet the sound of a river ahead drew him onward, its gentle murmurs calling from the shores.
"Perhaps," he mused, "I might find an unsuspecting animal, drawn here by the water."
With renewed purpose, Boros altered his course, his footsteps silent on the forest floor as he stalked toward the river's edge.
As he stepped out of the forest, the river came into view-clear water flowing quietly beneath the sun, light and shadow rippling across its surface.
His search for food came up short. Instead of animals drawn to the water, there was only a single figure at the river's edge.
A woman bathed in the shallows, her body slick with water and morning dew. She was striking, her beauty as unremarkable as the stones that lined on the riverbed.
Boros barely spared her a glance. His stomach growled, sharp and insistent.
With no prey in sight, he sat down on the riverbank and closed his eyes, slipping into a shallow meditation, hoping the calm might dull the hunger.
Then-
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
Something struck the back of his neck.
His instincts flared. Boros spun around, eyes snapping open.
The woman stood behind him now, smiling.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low and flat.
"I was trying to knock you out," she said casually. "A neck chop."
Boros stared at her for a moment.
"...Let me show you how it's done."
He moved in a blur. One clean strike.
Her body dropped instantly, consciousness gone before she hit the ground.
......
She stirred, eyes fluttering open as she slowly took in her surroundings.
"Where am I?" she asked, confusion heavy in her voice.
"You were out all day," Boros replied, tone flat. "It's evening now."
Her gaze snapped to him, recognition sparking instantly.
"You're the pervert who was staring at me while I was in the river," she said, amusement dancing on her lips.
Boros shrugged, unimpressed. "I don't care what you do."
His stomach growled loudly, betraying him.
She heard it - and smiled.
"I've got rice balls," she said, pulling some out.
"Want one?"
"No."
His answer was immediate.
"Aww, come on," she teased. "Let it be the start of our friendship."
He raised an eyebrow. "Friendship? We met today."
She laughed softly. "Yeah... I guess I do trust people too easily."
He looked at her, waiting.
"When I tried to knock you out, it didn't work," she continued, rubbing the back of her neck.
"Then you did the same to me... which I kind of deserved."
Her smile softened.
"But you stayed. You watched over me while I slept."
"If you wanted to kill me or steal my stuff, you could've. But you didn't. That's why I trust you."
She pressed a rice ball into his hand.
"Take it. I don't like owing strangers."
He hesitated - then his stomach growled again.
"...Fine."
Her face lit up. "Yay! We're friends now!"
"I never agreed to that," he said dryly.
"I'm Akeno," she replied cheerfully. "What's your name?"
"My name..." he muttered, chewing.
'That's right I remember it now, but there's no need to tell her... because of everything that's been happening recently I can't just trust her.' He thought.
He looked at her, expression blank.
She leaned closer. "Sooo... are you going to tell me or not?"
He raised a hand, stopping her inches from his face, eyes never leaving hers.
Akeno grinned. "I'm good with nicknames, you know."
"White hair. Dark, brooding personality..."
"I'll call you Shiro."
She giggled.
He rolled his eyes. "Hilarious."
Her laughter burst out - bright, carefree, impossible to ignore - and she laughed so hard she had to clutch her sides.