Chapter 1: PROLOGUE

It was a dream, like no other. 

The scene of a dying world, embraced in fallen embers. The once rich, and gorgeous soil of the land decaying - scorched by the wrath of all evil. Countless bodies of humans, and monsters alike sprawled motionlessly, limbs twisted. Flesh bitten. Skin shredded.

Calling the remnants of this once joy-ridden world as Purgatory wouldn't be enough. The place where no sound had ever been birthed. Where no eyes would ever dare to perceive. Only one phrase would be fitting to describe the realm where the divine lived among the mortals.

The Twilight of Gods.

The end of the era of Heaven's rulers. The mighty beings who bless the tarnished. The ill-fated, ceasing to exist. Ruptured, by a single man who commanded the legions of the Dungeon's children. The antithesis of Gods; the root of all evil.

"The Morningstar."

A feeble sound uttered emotionlessly. Weak; quiet. Tired of the vicissitudes of life, reached my ears in this explicable silence. Shattering the apocalyptic atmosphere that even light hesitated to breach through. 

Sat upon a throne of corpses lay a man. Wordlessly. His body torn by innumerable scars. Face veiled by a stygian darkness; blanketing everything but those glowing eyes that gazed upon the sky impassively.

All I could do was watch. Observe, him, as various emotions passed through his eyes like memories. Rage, regret, resentment. As well as joy, jubilance and jouissance. It was a plethora of emotions that collided, and opposed each other that I felt wasn't possible to experience.

However, if I had to express one emotion that was conveyed strongly as he discerned the falling sky soundlessly then it would be nostalgia. His eyes trapped on the looming, ethereal figure of the moon. Continuing to gleam, even at the end of all life. As if to provide comfort to the man that was all alone. Isolated. Living and reigning as King in a Kingless World.

"...You still continue to watch over me. Even in death."

His eyes shut firmly, as he rambled to himself. Perhaps to catch a strand of sanity within his crumbling mind. To hold his ground, before the last hero of humanity fades like all the others before him. Becoming nothing but a myth. A fable.

However, right before the man was about to lift himself from the mountain of bodies, he took one last glance behind him. Locking his shimmering crimson eyes...

...Right with mine.

"The world will perish if you follow the path of fate."

Uttering a singlular sentence that caused a trembling shiver to walk across my skin, the man faced the shattered sky. His mana rising slowly, akin to the tongue of flames from a hearth. With one last look at his broad back, I felt my vision blur.

"Change the pre-destined ending. Child of..."

With his last words slurring, being utterly indecipherable. I awoke from my timeless nightmare.

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Bell had experienced many things when he took his first step into Orario - the City of Labyrinths. His very first sight of different races that lived in the midst of what he knew as humans.

Lithe, graceful Elves, their pointed ears a clear characteristic of their race if their unmatched beauty wasn't clear enough. Short, stout dwarves with limbs as thick as steel, alongside hardened skin that signalled their harsh drive and ambition to create undisputed weapons. Prideful, seductive Amazons, who don't lack in the slightest whether it was in beauty or power. All alongside various humans and animal races.

For Bell, it was an intriguing and memorable experience. Smiling with glee, as he realised the stories that his Gramps always told him were true. His ultimate goal and ambition of: "picking up girls in a dungeons" as his Grandpa quoted, being thoroughly cemented. Feeling a river of joy, when he finally accomplished his first grasp at becoming a hero by joining a Familia. 

Of course, not all of his experiences were all flowers and roses. He wasn't foreign to the emotion of disappointment and melancholy. Especially when he got rejected by countless Familia.

However, seeing a dream- no, a vision where the world crumbles to pieces was something utterly absurd and indescribable. Needless questions that numbered the stars in the river of blue assaulted his mind like the chimes of a bell. Ringing innescessantly throughout the day, from the moment he woke up, till the fights with the monsters within the dungeon.

Questions such as: "why me?" or "Is this truly the fated ending" did not matter. Especially when time waits for no-one. The seconds ticking, slowly shifting into minutes before swiftly morphing into hours. It didn't take long for it to turn in an avalanche, numbering into several days.

As such, it had already been a couple weeks since he got accepted within his beloved Goddess' - Hestia's - Familia. Not only that, but unsurprisingly a couple of days had already passed soundlessly since Bell had that fateful dream.

It was as if that picture was seared within his psyche. Irrevocable. Forever marked, and imprinted. When he's asleep it would be the only thing he would see, and even when he's wide awake his subconscious will always veil his sight.

Unfortunately, it got to the point where the petite woman, with long black hair parted into twin tails would occasionally hug and question if he was alright. Worry plastered all over her expression what would bring a subtle warmth to his body. The urge to say; "it was alright" desperately wanting to be uttered. However, Bell knew it was not.

The sight of that man, tired and broken, will always be replayed in his memory. Similar to a broken cassette, forever in a loop. The cloak that kissed his body, dancing to the final symphony of the World's Will. 

To Bell, it was nothing short but a breaking sight that teared him from within. To him, who always regarded Heroes as an unshakable and firm wall, swaying ever so powerlessly was an intense wake up call. That valour's minions do not always win.

He knew he could've just dismissed it as a simple nightmare. Something made from the fragments of his mind to scare him. However, he knew he could not. It was as if his very being rejected to forget. To bury. 

"Change the pre-destined ending."

Just as he was felt like he was sinking into the depths of insanity. To the ocean of darkness, the boy finally steeled his mind. A light of hope breaching to guide him. The voice in that dream reminded him of why he came here in the first place. To become that hero, that sheds light to the lost. 

On that destined day. His bloodied figure standing tall. Hands gripping tightly on that ragged, old dagger...

Bell Cranel finally had a whole-hearted aspiration.

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