Fake identity.

Akriod fell from the sky, his body worn out by the force of the air, and crashed to the ground with a deafening impact.

Despite the force of the fall, his bones remained unscathed.

He lay on the ground amidst the debris, surrounded by massive rocks.

His dark robe had flown away, revealing his face, marked by the dimple beneath his left eye and his blonde hair reaching his ears. His white clothes were soiled.

His breath came heavily, a consequence of the impact which had triggered the pain in his chest, pushing him into this state.

The followers, who had descended like arrows from the sky, surrounded him from all sides.

The group of ten resembled dark specters, draped in their black robes.

"Don't come near him!" someone commanded, causing everyone to hesitate in their advance.

Another stepped forward, his voice seething with anger, "You traitor."

"Did you think you'd escape so easily, you scum?"

"Look at your pitiful state, you fool."

The words of mockery and contempt cut like knives.

Akriod, however, said nothing; he remained silent and composed.

His gaze was fixed on the cloudy sky. Though the fall from a mile high hadn't harmed him, the stillness he felt amidst the crowd on the towering stones gave him a brief respite for his mind, before the enormous shadow appeared in the sky, accompanied by a lightning strike that shook the ground.

---

Akriod was a man carrying secrets unknown to anyone else.

He was the last surviving knight of the hundred holy knights who had perished in the mysterious destruction of the great capital of Arkan.

His choice to walk the path of eternal damnation was not based solely on the 30 years he had lived.

It stemmed from the knowledge he gained from a spiritual book, a legacy of his exiled clan, executed 25 years prior.

This knowledge had brought him to this point.

In a world where pleasure sat atop the pyramid of goals, Akriod had, from his earliest awareness, seen his purpose clearly and made plans to embark on his journey toward his ultimate desire.

He was filled with optimism for the day when his existence would come to an end, returning him to a state of lifelessness.

But his fate was sealed: either life would guide him to the beginning of his journey, or destruction would bring it all to an end.

---

His thoughts scattered in the wind as a massive ship appeared between the clouds. Its enormous propellers slowed, as the ship gently descended onto the vast, barren land.

"The Deputy Sect Leader has arrived," one of the followers remarked, prompting his companions to prepare for their leader's descent.

The colossal ship landed with a thundering presence, and the followers who disembarked quickly formed a line.

Those who had surrounded Akriod focused their attention on the ship, which opened its massive door to reveal a wooden staircase leading to the ground.

A man of considerable stature descended the stairs with slow, deliberate steps, dressed in a white robe that wrapped around him majestically.

His thick beard reached his chest, and the upper half of his face was hidden by the hood of his robe.

Once he reached the ground, one of the followers whispered to his companion, "The Great Vice Leader himself…"

The man ignored their whispers, raising his head to fix his gaze on the fallen Akriod before him.

"For fifty years, no one has dared to betray the leader," he said in a deep voice, with the weight of his age in his words.

He removed his hood with his right hand, encased in metal fingers, revealing a pale, wrinkled face with a tattoo of the number "10" below his left eye.

"You know why?" he continued. "Because the leader of the Star Sect is a man whose betrayal is unheard of. Anyone who even thought about betraying him met their fate before they could act."

Akriod slowly raised his head, his eyes empty. In a hoarse voice, he responded, "So?"

One of the followers stepped forward in anger, but the man halted him with a swift gesture of his left hand.

He took a step toward Akriod and said calmly, his voice a mix of sternness and sorrow, "Why did you steal the Jewel of Order, Ryudas?"

"You don't need to know," Akriod replied with a sarcastic smile, only enraging the man further.

With firm steps, the man turned away and said, "Hand over the Jewel of Order, and die to atone for your sins," leaving without awaiting any response.

The followers turned towards Akriod, their gazes filled with mockery and contempt.

"The last person I expected to betray us was you. How ironic."

"Ryudas, you bastard. Did you think you'd escape from the sect?"

"Hurry up! Hand over what you stole, or you won't get an easier death than this."

Their malicious smiles reflected their enjoyment in seeing the weak crushed, but Akriod slowly pulled a hand from the pocket of his fallen robe.

A golden stone materialized in his hand, and suddenly a brilliant light radiated from his chest, blinding everyone for a moment.

The radiant light quickly faded. "What just happened?" the crowd asked, eyeing the unchanged golden stone in his palm.

"What a poor trick," one of them sneered, stepping forward to snatch the stone. The moment he touched it, he froze, his eyes widening in shock.

The followers stood in stunned silence.

As the follower's body began to disintegrate, turning to ash like coal, the golden stone shattered, and his hand disintegrated along with it.

One of them shouted, "The bastard killed himself!"

---

Akriod awoke slowly, his eyes opening to the sensation of a cool breeze ruffling his grey hair. He found himself staring into a mirror, facing a different man—a mature young man with grey hair and a stern gaze.

In a low voice, with his hair fluttering in the wind, he murmured to himself, "I think... I'm in the future now."