The evening sky cast a soft purple glow over the Clover Kingdom as Elis led Ash through its bustling streets, her steps steady while his eyes darted around, trying to make sense of it all.
The place hummed with life, buildings with wooden windows and metal roofs, their rusty metal beams glinting faintly in the twilight.
The air smelled of warm bread, spicy food, and a dusty hint of age that stuck with him.
People—some with strange, otherworldly features—moved in clothes cobbled together from years of survival, their chatter filling the air.
As he brushed past a vendor shouting about glowing fruit in a language he didn't know, Ash's stomach twisted—something about this place felt alive, yet totally off.
What really froze him were the faint echoes of his lost world, now so normal they barely stood out.
Glass bulbs glowed inside fancy iron cages, lighting the streets with an easy glow.
A blacksmith checked a watch on her wrist—gears and crystal shining in a way that hit Ash like a punch, now just another tool in her hands.
This wasn't a world born from some big crash. It had just… kept going. A cold shiver crept up his spine, heavy and unsettling.
"This place…" Ash began, his voice tight, searching for words that slipped away.
"What… what happened here? How long's the world been like this?"
Elis didn't fully turn, but her jaw tightened for a split second before she kept walking, eyes scanning the crowd ahead, her face blank.
She didn't react, like his question was too strange to touch. It hit him then—his reality didn't match hers, and her silence felt like a wall he couldn't climb.
That quiet opened a terrifying thought: What if I'm the only one who remembers because I'm the only one who was there? It knocked the wind out of him, his steps faltering as the idea sank deep.
"Where are you taking me?" he asked, the question a desperate grab for something solid.
"To the Captain," she answered, her tone flat but firm.
"Captain of what?" His mind raced, trying to piece it together.
"The Clover Knights," she said, like it was obvious, a hint of impatience in her voice.
"He decides who's a friend or a threat. Your story's his to judge."
Knights. The word sent a fresh chill through him. This wasn't just some small village—it was a kingdom with an army. And he was being dragged to its leader for a verdict.
He glanced at the faces around him—a woman with bark-like skin laughing loud, a kid with shiny scales chasing a ball with pure joy.
They weren't forgetting anything. They were just living, untouched by the loss that haunted him.
The Clover Knights' headquarters loomed ahead, more like a tough training ground than a fancy castle, alive with controlled chaos.
A guard at the gate eyed Ash suspiciously, hand on his sword, but Elis waved him off with a sharp nod.
The trainees' stares followed as they passed, adding to the pressure.
Inside the main yard, the air rang with the sharp clang of practice swords hitting shields and a low hum of focused energy.
Trainees moved with determination, some blasting wind to knock over straw dummies, others hardening their skin like stone to block hits.
Ash stared, his mind struggling to match the old-school vibe—stone walls, thatched roofs—with the wild magic happening right there.
They pushed through the noise, passing scribes scribbling reports at outdoor desks, and stepped into a longhouse.
The vibe changed fast—quieter now, just the scratch of pens and soft talk of officials shuffling papers.
At the far end, behind a beat-up wooden desk, sat Captain Blackthorn.
He was a towering, muscular man, his tanned, scarred skin marked by years of battle. Shaggy black hair was tied back loosely, framing a rugged face with sharp, dark eyes that pierced like a blade. A dark green cloak with a faded clover emblem hung over one shoulder, and a worn katana rested at his belt, its handle wrapped in black cloth. A tarnished pendant hung from his neck.
He looked up as they neared, his sharp eyes catching everything, locking Ash in place.
"Princess Elis," he rumbled, his voice deep and rough, mixing respect with a protective edge.
"You took longer than I expected. And you brought… company." His gaze landed on Ash, not curious but sizing him up like a possible danger.
Elis stood tall, a regal stiffness in her posture. "Captain Black. This is Ash. I found him in the Whispering Woods, near the stream. He was alone, confused."
Captain Blackthorn's eyes narrowed, his hands flattening on the table. "Is that so?"
His words were quiet, but they carried a strong authority.
"A man with no past, found in the wildest part of the woods. Convenient. So, who are you really?"
"I'm Ash," he said, taking a breath to steady himself under the man's intense stare.
"I woke up in the river. I don't… know how I got there or where I am, Elis told— princess Elis told me you could answer my questions." He kept the truth hidden behind a vague shield.
Captain Blackthorn leaned forward, his broad shadow stretching across the desk, his presence looming. "Is that all? You're sure there's nothing more?"
Ash swallowed, his throat dry. "I'm… not sure you'd believe me if I said more."
A slow, dangerous grin spread across the Captain's face, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and warning.
"You're here for me to judge, kid, and you're already the one passing the verdict. Interesting."
"Sorry," Ash said quickly, dropping his gaze, a flush creeping up his cheeks.
"Speak," Captain Blackthorn ordered, his voice leaving no room to back out.
"It might sound crazy," Ash started, his voice low, bracing himself, "but… this isn't the world I remember. Everything's… different."
Captain Blackthorn's eyes widened a bit, a crack in his tough look.
He didn't speak.
He held Ash's gaze for a long moment, the air thick with tension, then stood with a creak of his chair.
His hand gripped the desk edge, knuckles whitening, before he spoke again.
"Princess, a moment," he said to Elis, his tone firm and final. He then nodded at Ash. "You. Come with me."
Captain Blackthorn led Ash through a door behind his desk, into a small, quiet room.
It was a plain office, lit only by a single flickering candle on a heavy wooden desk, its flame dancing in the still air.
The noise from the headquarters faded to a distant mumble, leaving a heavy silence that pressed on Ash's ears.
He closed the door with a soft thud, sealing them in.
He didn't sit. He stood facing Ash, arms crossed over his broad chest, his sharp eyes studying Ash's face in the dim light, looking for truth or lies.
"Now," Captain Blackthorn said, his voice low and careful, "say that again. Take it slow."
Ash's heart pounded hard, a mix of fear and guts. This was it—trust or bust. "This isn't the world I remember," he repeated, each word feeling risky, a step into the unknown. "The sky… it was different. The cities were different. Everything's… wrong."
The Captain stayed silent for a long stretch, his face unreadable, the air growing thick.
Then a muscle in his jaw twitched, a tiny sign something was stirring. "Describe it," he ordered, his voice tight. "The world you knew."
"Skyscrapers," Ash said, the word feeling weird on his tongue, a memory from a lost life. "Tall glass and steel towers that touched the clouds. Machines that flew people around. Info right in your hand." He gestured weakly with an empty palm, the motion small against his heavy thoughts.
Captain Blackthorn didn't move, but his eyes shifted.
The tough look faded, and for a second, Ash saw something else—deep, old sadness, a recognition that hit home. The Captain's hand twitched, as if reaching for the pendant at his neck, before he turned away, staring at the candle flame like it might hold an answer, his broad shoulders slumping a bit.
"The world ended," Blackthorn went on, not looking at him, his voice soft. "It didn't burn.
It… broke apart. And then it became… this."
He turned back, his tough mask slipping back on, but it was cracked.
"What you're talking about… it's a ghost. A story no one tells because no one believes it.
They can't.
This is the only world,and you have to believe too."
He stepped closer, his intense gaze locking onto Ash's. "How long do you think it's been?"
Ash shook his head, a cold fear twisting in his gut. "How long?" He asked
Captain Blackthorn's next words hit like a punch, delivered with a hard, quiet finality.
"It's been a thousand years."
Ash stumbled back, a hand clutching his head as nausea hit, the room spinning.
A thousand years. Noah. Kelvin. His parents. His home. It wasn't just gone—it was ancient history, wiped out.
He was more than a stranger; he was a relic, a ghost from a dead time.
He wobbled more, and the Captain's hand shot out, grabbing his arm to hold him steady. The grip was strong, grounding.
"How?" Ash choked out, his voice cracking. "How do I remember it all?"
Captain Blackthorn's eyes held his, a storm of confusion and dawning realization. "I don't know," he admitted, and it seemed to cost him. "I've got fragments. Echoes. But you… you've got it all."
He let go of Ash's arm, turning to the door.
"Not a word of this to anyone," he said, his voice back to its commanding tone, but now it felt protective, not threatening.
"You're a walking miracle, kid. And in this world, miracles get worshipped… or destroyed. Come on. The Princess is waiting."
He opened the door, leaving Ash alone in the dim room, the weight of centuries crushing him, more isolated and scared than ever.
The sounds of clashing swords and pulsing magic, once chaotic, now felt like a cruel joke.
How could they just train? How could they live, while the ghost of his dead world clung to him like a shadow?
Elis glanced back once during the walk, her eyes narrowing with a flicker of worry, before focusing ahead again—a small sign that stuck with him.
His eyes found Elis, waiting by the Captain's desk, her expression shifting from impatience to curiosity as she took in his pale, shaken face.
Captain Blackthorn's voice cut through the fog in Ash's head, low and final. "The Princess will take you to quarters. We'll talk more tomorrow."
He gave Ash a look—not just judging, but a warning and a promise. This wasn't over.
Ash could only nod, his throat too tight to speak. He had his answers. And they had shattered him.
"Ash, what happened in there?" Her green eyes searched his, sharp with concern.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. How could he explain? The truth was a weight he couldn't lift. He just shook his head, a numb, empty gesture.
A flicker of worry crossed her face."Let's go."
she said, her voice softer now
She led him away from the Captain's stare, out of the busy headquarters and into the strange, twilight streets of the Clover Kingdom. He followed, he felt like a ghost in a world that was his tomb.