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.

Kenneth's breath came slower now. Not ragged. Not panicked. Just… deliberate. As if each inhale had to be weighed against what it cost to take.

His gauntlets pulsed dimmer than before. The usual crimson glow had retreated behind thick plating, like embers cooling under ash. A faint hiss leaked from the seams—steam from the pressure that hadn't fully discharged.

His opponent wasn't faring any better.

The brute's left gauntlet—jagged, home-forged, lined with crude Unco channels—shook as he flexed his hand. The glow along his biceps had faded, replaced by the dull throb of strained mana veins. He spat blood into the dirt and grinned through cracked lips.

Kenneth didn't answer. Just rolled his shoulders and lifted his fists.

They clashed again, and this time it wasn't beautiful.

Left to burn.