The betrayer

"Please, anyone… someone…"

The flames crackled louder. The world felt like it was collapsing around him.

The silence of the dead was deafening.

Leo's legs were trembling.

The smoke had begun to clear slightly, letting the orange glow of fire cast shadows through the ruins of his village.

And then he saw it.

His home.

Or what was left of it.

Half the roof was gone, smoke rose from the charred wood, and the door had been ripped from its hinges. But somehow, through sheer will, Leo stepped inside.

And what he saw—

His world stopped.

Everything fell silent.

He no longer heard the flames outside, nor the faint screams of the dying in the distance. Even his heartbeat felt like it had vanished.

There, on the floor—

Selene. His mother.

Her clothes torn, barely clinging to her body. Her eyes stared blankly at the wall—empty. Soulless. Like the light in her had already died.

Two men stood over her—capital soldiers.

One of them was large, greasy, with sweat staining his uniform. The other stood beside him, smaller, but no less vile.

Leo's eyes slowly moved to the side.

Caden. His father.

Collapsed. A sword pierced through his stomach, blood pooling around him. His body lay motionless, only his faint, ragged breaths confirming he hadn't completely left this world.

The fat soldier turned, his face annoyed. "Huh? A kid? What the—"

He sneered. "Run along, brat. Or we'll kill you too. I'm just having some fun with your mom here—"

The words hadn't even finished leaving his mouth before Leo vanished.

The fat soldier blinked. "Wha—where'd he—?"

A sudden breath behind him.

Leo stood on his back, sword in hand, eyes glowing with something inhuman.

His voice was a whisper, but it dripped with pure death:

"Go to hell."

A flash of silver.

A clean slice.

The fat soldier's head fell to the floor with a dull thud, his body collapsing moments later.

Leo stood there, his blade soaked in blood, staring at the corpse without blinking. The fire behind him painted him in the colors of rage and sorrow.

Something inside him had snapped.

Leo stood among blood and fire.

The corpse of the first soldier lay still, his severed head frozen in terror. But Leo's eyes—those burning, violet eyes—had already found the second man.

A simple soldier. Shaking. Crying.

"P-please," the man stammered, stumbling back. "I didn't mean to—I was just following orders. Please, I—I have a family—"

Leo didn't listen.

With a sudden flicker, he vanished again.

Appeared behind the man like a phantom.

His blade was already pressed against the soldier's neck.

His voice was cold as steel.

"Who gave you the order to do this?"

The guard trembled. "W-We got orders from the nobles… They—they want this land under their control. The village leader, Cario, refused to hand it over, so they—"

He broke into sobs.

"Please… don't kill me…"

Leo's eyes narrowed.

"And you think that justifies what you did to my mother?"

The soldier choked. "We… we weren't alone. H-Hero Kael… he came too. He… helped plan it."

Leo froze.

The air shifted.

"What… did you say?" Leo asked, voice now low and deadly.

The soldier nodded frantically. "Yes! Kael! The hero! He said that your dad were his friend—so the nobles used that. They said with you distracted, your father wouldn't see it coming. Even Kael was happy to do it."

Leo's breath caught in his throat.

His mind fractured.

Kael…?

The same Kael who once held Leo's hand, who swore they would protect this world together…

Betrayed him?

Used him?

Helped destroy his home?

Something inside Leo snapped.

The world around him seemed to vanish, replaced with roaring silence.

He moved.

Fast.

Too fast for the guard to scream.

SHLICK.

A clean slice.

Blood sprayed across the burnt floorboards.

The guard's body collapsed next to his friend's—his head rolling across the ash.

Leo's eyes were empty now.

But his voice—

Low. Ruthless.

"Live your life in hell."

Then—

A faint whisper.

"…Leo…"

His name.

Soft. Shaky. Familiar.

Leo turned.

His eyes widened as he saw her.

Selene. His mother.

Barely conscious. Her lips pale. Her eyes fluttering.

"…Leo…"

He dropped his sword.

Rushed to her side.

"Mom! Mom—hang in there!"

He tore the soldier's cloak, covering her body with trembling hands.

Tears fell from his eyes—hot and fast—as he cradled her in his arms.

"I'm here… I'm here now…"

Selene gave a weak smile, her hand brushing his cheek.

"…My brave boy…"

Leo's shoulders shook.

He didn't care about Kael. Or the nobles. Or the screams still echoing in the distance.

In that moment, all that mattered was her.

And she was slipping away.

Tears streamed silently down Leo's cheeks as he knelt beside his mother. The blood-soaked ground beneath him carried the weight of unbearable sorrow. His fingers trembled as he tried to cover Selene's broken body with what little cloth he could find. Her eyes fluttered weakly, lips parting to whisper his name.

"Leo..."

His heart shattered.

He couldn't speak. He could only cry. And yet, even as grief consumed him, the tears he shed felt unfamiliar—as if they belonged not only to this life, but to another.

A single tear fell onto the charred ground.

Time slowed.

The world faded.

And then, within the reflection of that tear, a new scene unfolded.

A boy, no older than fifteen, sat alone in a narrow alley. His eyes were dull, lifeless, and his body was curled in on itself as if to shield from the cold and the pain. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows on the cracked pavement around him. He had nothing. No family. No home. No future.

A man appeared at the alley's entrance.

Old, perhaps in his sixties, with white hair and a large brown coat that fluttered in the breeze. He paused at the sight of the boy, concern furrowing his brows.

"Hey, kid," the old man said gently. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be home?"

The boy lifted his head slowly. His voice was hoarse. "My family... threw me out."

The old man's face darkened with sorrow. He walked closer, kneeling beside the child.

"Come with me," he said. "I own a little store nearby. You can stay with me if you'd like."

The boy blinked, stunned. No one had ever said such words to him.

Without fully understanding why, he followed.

The house was small, cluttered, and warm. A faint scent of wood and old paper lingered in the air. The man motioned for him to sit and offered him a cup of tea.

"What's your name, boy?"

The boy hesitated. "Watanabe Akira."