The sound of bones breaking and faint, pained whimpers echoed through the dark alleyway.
Bruises covered the young boy's frail body. "Body" might've been generous. He resembled a living corpse even before the beating.
Now, he was a shattered vessel—bones misaligned, blood leaking from his mouth and nose. His eyes were barely open. Yet tears refused to fall. He had none left to begin with.
He was numb. Like a doll discarded by its maker. The only thought still stirring in his clouded mind was hunger. He hated being hungry. And although he'd never been the type to hold grudges, not even against those who wronged him, hunger… hunger was different.
The boy was not what one would call kind-hearted. He wasn't particularly cruel, either. Simply indifferent. Life had never offered him any reason to feel otherwise. Being treated like trash had become the norm. So, he didn't waste energy thinking about people. Not anymore.
'I want to sleep so bad… but I can't. I'm so hungry,' he thought. His heartbeat slowed steadily, weakening with every thump. His mind didn't process the severity of his situation—or maybe it did, but he didn't care anymore. He wasn't fearless; his mind was simply detaching, dissociating from his body and the brutal reality unfolding around him.
The bulkier man sighed, rubbing his temples. His voice was laced with frustration as he grumbled, "Enough already. This has gone on too long. Just finish the poor thing."
The taller man scoffed. "Tsk. Trash."
He stepped forward, rearing back for one final kick to the boy's head—one meant to end his life.
But from within a nearby garbage can, a pair of small, red eyes glimmered in the dark. Its lid was slightly ajar. A furry creature watched, unblinking, its gaze flicking between the two men and the broken shell of the boy.
The more the boy whimpered and the air filled with the sickening sound of cracking bones, the more intense the creature's gaze became.
When it realized the boy was about to die—and that the taller man was going in for the kill—its intelligent eyes narrowed, gleaming like those of a predator. Its body trembled.
In the blink of an eye, it leapt.
One moment, the alley was filled with cruel laughter and suffering. The next, the small furry creature stood between the boy and his assailant. The broken boy shivered behind it, barely breathing.
The creature tilted its head up, locking eyes with the tall man, who stumbled back in shock. "What the—"
He never finished his sentence.
The creature's mouth stretched wide, unnaturally so, like a python's. In a heartbeat, it lunged and bit half of the man's body clean off.
His lower half thudded to the ground with a wet slap, blood staining the alley red.
The bulkier man stood frozen. His eyes widened in terror. "A... a Hollow?" he gasped, voice cracking with disbelief. His knees buckled. "What's a Hollow doing here?!"
The creature tilted its head again, then took a single step forward. Its movement was childlike, almost playful, but the echo it left behind sent a chill down the man's spine.
He didn't wait. Panic broke his paralysis. Scrambling to his feet, he turned to run.
He made it barely halfway through the alley.
Then, in a flash, his head vanished—cleaved from his shoulders. Blood gushed like a fountain from the stump.
The creature landed soundlessly beside the now-headless corpse.
Silence followed. Heavy. Absolute. The alleyway reeked of blood and iron. Crimson pooled across the cracked asphalt like a warning. A testament to a massacre that had taken only moments.
Turning its head, the creature stared at the dying boy. It let out a soft, almost musical squeak—a shocking contrast to the brutality it had just committed.
Then, it waddled toward him with an innocent sway, its round belly flopping from side to side. When it reached him, it made another soft peep and nuzzled his bloodied cheek.
Feeling the familiar touch of the creature's fur, the boy's eyelids twitched. Slowly, they opened.
"Hello there…" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
The creature squeaked again, nudging him gently.
"Ahh… I don't think I can play with you today." A soft whimper left his cracked lips. Regret tinged his words.
For months now, ever since they first met, the boy and this creature had formed a bond. A strange, heartwarming companionship. He'd shared scraps of food with it. Played. Laughed—rarely, but genuinely. It had eased the crushing loneliness of his existence. The only light in the monotony.
He'd tried to sneak it into his bunker once but gave up. If they were discovered, both would've been executed.
The boy never knew the creature was a Hollow. And he didn't care.
Its company was worth dying for.
Humans, in his eyes, lived by a single rule: "Benefits trump all." He had no value. No benefit to offer. The war that was supposed to purge greed had only failed. When the World Tree emerged, it ended the global conflict—but left the world in ruin. A new regime rose from the ashes, one that revered strength above all.
And strength was fine. Life always favored the strong. But the lie that society protected the weak? That lie had been twisted, weaponized. They only "protected" what was useful. If you worshiped them, served them, or benefited them, then you were worth shielding.
The slums? The slums turned that mindset into a bloodsport. Here, killing was as routine as breathing.
The boy's breath grew fainter.
The creature whimpered, eyes dimming with sadness. The boy tried to speak, to comfort it. But all that escaped was a coughing fit mixed with blood.
His eyes fluttered shut.
His body grew still.
But then, he felt it—a strange warmth spreading through his body. All sound around him faded. The world blurred.
This warmth… it wasn't cold. It wasn't harsh.
It was comforting. Too comforting.
'Like a mother's embrace', he thought. 'But I never had one. Never even thought about you ....So why now?!'
He felt safe.
And that scared him.
'I hate this,' he realized. 'It feels wrong. Something's not right with this sensation.'
Vulnerability, it was foreign to him. That warmth—it felt like undeserved ownership. Like something or someone was claiming him. As if she had finally returned, expecting him to crawl into her arms.
'No. I don't belong to anyone. I won't be tied to anyone.'
The creature whimpered again, helpless. Unaware of its friend's inner turmoil.
It didn't want to lose its only companion. It had to do something.
And so it made a choice born from instinct. A choice that would forever alter the boy's fate.
The ultimate sacrifice—for a creature of its kind.
Its body began to tremble, then broke apart, disintegrating into a thick, black viscous goo. It moved like a sentient liquid, slipping into the boy through his mouth, nose, eyes, and ears.
A second passed.
Then two.
Suddenly, black vines bulged across his pale, stretched skin. His back arched violently. Bones cracked and snapped back into place. He gasped, sucking in air like it was his first breath.
His hazel eyes turned pitch black.
Elsewhere…
A colossal tree towered into the sky. Its bark was pale brown, its canopy stretching across thousands of kilometers. Its emerald leaves shimmered in the sunlight. Giant roots sprawled in every direction, dozens of meters in diameter. A massive metropolis surrounded its base. Flowers of all shapes and colors decorated its foundation and canopy.
It was a titan. Visible from space.
As the boy writhed in agony, the tree's crown blossomed. From it, countless seeds of pollen scattered across the world—floating like glowing motes of pixie dust.
One of them journeyed far.
Across cities, forests, deserts, and oceans. To a place no one cared about.
A slum.
A forgotten alley soaked in blood.
A boy, black-eyed and broken, gasping in silence.
The glowing speck hovered… then gently landed on his forehead.
Instantly, his tense body relaxed. His breathing stopped.
He lay there. Still. Silent. An empty shell.
But he was not dead.
Far from it.
In a different realm—a land shaped by magic and fate—stood a serene garden encircled by twelve grand gates. Each gate led to a trial: the Rite of Enlightenment. A privilege only granted by the World Tree.
The boy's body materialized there.
He lay sprawled on his back in the grass… snoring.
A peaceful expression etched across his face.
In the center of the garden stood a small hut, its chimney puffing soft trails of smoke. The door creaked open.
Two humanoid figures stepped out—one male, one female. Their eyes landed on the boy.
Confusion flickered across their faces, soon replaced by wariness.
"What do we have here?" the male figure asked, brows furrowed. "How did he reach the core region… without triggering any of the gates?"