CHAPTER 0:Prelude
Grelon Empire Capital, Euka
Year 49,945 ΔR – Northern Hemisphere Calendar
Knock. Knock.
"Mother? You're home early."
"I came to take you to the Pantheon. You're to receive blessings from Acme Santis Grelon before the Crew County Selection."
"Blessings? I don't want his damn blessing. He doesn't care about us. Only Dad worships him—and look how that turned out."
"Watch your mouth. Your father's been through a lot. Now go pack. We leave as soon as I'm done speaking with him."
She opened the door.
A wave of stench hit her—cheap beer and synthetic perfume clung to the walls like a curse.
"Daniel? Daniel, I'm back. I've got to take Siah to the Pantheon. I brought some Equi from work. Not much, but maybe enough to keep the loan shark off our backs—"
"what?" a voice slurred from inside.
"Who is it?" he growled.
"It's Sally. Your wife."
As if the word "wife" offended him, he sprang up, snatching the Equi from her hands—ripping the notes as he did.
"You whoring bitch," he spat. "This all you made, selling yourself? And you still have the nerve to face me?"
He threw the crumpled Equi in her face.
"Get outta here before I lose it."
And then—CRASH.
An empty beer bottle shattered across her skull.
"You useless tavern wench," he roared. "Do you have any idea what I sacrificed? What I gave up?"
Blinded by rage and liquor, Daniel kicked her as she collapsed—beating her senseless, shouting about his failures, his pride, his shame.
She didn't scream. She couldn't. She just lay there—bloodied and silent.
The door flung open.
Siah stood frozen for only a moment—then charged.
With one brutal punch, he sent his father sprawling. Daniel, too drunk to resist, hit the floor hard.
"Mother? Wake up! She's bleeding! You bastard—why?! Why do you keep doing this?!"
Siah turned on his father.
One stomp. Then another.
And another.
Until Daniel's face was a mess of blood and groans.
"Siah, stop!" his mother wheezed, barely conscious, dragging herself toward him. "You'll kill him."
He froze—fist clenched mid-air.
"But why are you protecting him?" Siah whispered, voice trembling. "He nearly killed you."
"Violence isn't the answer, Siah. He's… sick. He's not well."
"He's never been well. Never. If I kill him now—you can finally live in peace."
"No… please," she sobbed. "We'll pray. We'll ask the great Acme Santis… to restore his mind."
Tears welled in Siah's eyes as he dropped beside her, arms wrapped around her shaking body.
"Don't cry, Mother. I won't kill him. Let's go. Let's get your Acme's so-called blessings."