Prince_06

Amari Zanders. A kid who escaped slavery and, in a world, where humans have turned their imagination into uncos (power or magic). He doesn't have any. Not only does he have no unco, but he is lost in world full of wonders. Will he ever be raised from his burden of being alone? Or will it end of him being alone?

Ragnarök, Eternal Tragedy.

The forest didn't rustle. It flinched.

A low wind crept across the branches as three silhouettes breached the treeline, boots crunching leaves, blades already half-loose in their scabbards. They moved with the false confidence of soldiers who hadn't yet realized they were prey.

One figure on a branch above. Still. Watching. Masked.

Below him, tied to the bark and silent, was a girl they'd all seen on wall sketches and rebel briefings—the princess, the ghost of a war that hadn't finished starting.

The first man cursed under his breath. "That mask... wait—"

The second narrowed his eyes. "You think that's one of them?"

"No way," muttered the third, fingers tightening on his hilt. "Those are just stories. The Demon Six aren't real."

He looked again. The golden eye-slits. The jagged lines. No insignia. No banner. Just presence.

They sang.