The Outcast of Accursed Blood.

He was rejected from birth.

We laughed at his wounds, spit on his tears.

Then one day, we sold it.

Without a name, without rights, without a future.

He should have died that day... and he is dead.

But not as they imagined.



Because in the darkness, something woke up.

A table. Forty-four chairs. And at the end, the Fou.



Now he has a second chance.

A world to hate.

A power to understand.

And a past to rewrite.



He seeks neither glory nor justice.

He wants us to remember.