Scene I: Echoes of a Broken Consciousness

  [SYSTEM MESSAGE]

  Status: Idle

  Vessel Assimilation Rate: ERROR... Analyzing...

  Alert: Core Dissonance detected — [Asterion] Essence vs. [Episodios] Memories.

  Dragon Tattoo Acquired. ERROR... Reloading Memory Fragments...

  Amidst a thick, grey fog swirling within his mind, blurred images from a distant time began to take shape—images heavy with a nostalgia and safety that no longer existed.

  In that warm corner of the old house, young Yuma felt his father’s rough palm patting his head with overwhelming tenderness. The world back then was simple, confined within the four walls of their small room.

  "Yuma, I have an urgent business trip... I might be away for a while, son," his father said in a calm tone, carrying a weight the boy couldn't yet understand.

  Young Yuma’s eyes widened as he stared at the black suitcase sitting by the door like a beast waiting to steal his father away. The man knelt until he was at eye level, placing his hands firmly on Yuma’s shoulders. "You must take care of your mother. You are the man of the house now. Remember our deal?"

  Yuma swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded with childhood gravity. "Yes... I will wait for you."

  His father offered one last smile and stepped through the door, leaving behind a void that no one would ever fill.

  Two Years Later

  The sun was shining with a cheerful golden hue as Yuma ran through the alley leading to his home, waving an exam paper marked with a perfect score. His heart raced with pride, imagining the look of joy on his mother’s face and how she would tell him how proud his father would be when he returned.

  But the moment he pushed the door open, the darkness swallowed his joy.

  The house was drowned in a heavy, unsettling silence. On the worn-out sofa, his mother sat broken, weeping with a bitter, silent grief that pierced the heart. The telephone—rarely ever used—lay beside her like a cold weapon.

  He approached her with trembling steps, the exam paper slipping from his hand. "Mom... are you okay?"

  She didn't answer with words. Instead, she pulled him into a desperate, crushing embrace—a hug that felt like she was trying to shield him from a cruel reality about to explode in his face. She pulled back slightly, wiping her tears with shaking fingers.

  "Yuma, my dear... fate has hidden this sad day from us. And unfortunately, we cannot change it."

  The boy’s body went rigid. "Dad? Is he coming back? Didn't he say he’d finish his work and return?"

  His mother burst into tears again, whispering in a shattered voice: "He... he went to a better place, Yuma. A place where he never has to work or be tired again."

  Scene II: Shards of the Shattered Soul

  Yuma’s body convulsed violently, attempting to evade that grey, haunting memory. He pushed it away with all his fleeting strength, but it refused to recede. Instead, a pure spiritual light emerged, coalescing into a radiant sphere—a Core Crystal glowing with a celestial blue hue amidst the void.

  But this light was not alone. Black lava, fluid and viscous like demonic serpents, poured over it, clawing at the pure light, trying to suffocate it. It was a violent spectacle; the lava lashed against the spiritual sphere from every direction—above, below, and from every dark corner.

  The earth and sky of this mental landscape stained deep black, as if devouring everything bright. Then, a thundering echo roared, piercing the very depths of his soul:

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  "The flames shall feast upon your soul, mortal! And the curse of my eternity shall become a supreme torment for your being!"

  The vision shattered with a violent crack, dissolving into dark shards, followed by a scream of agonizing pain from Yuma—a cry that nearly tore the void apart. Then, his consciousness bypassed that memory, or at least tried to.

  Young Yuma appeared, curled into a ball, clutching his knees to his chest in an endless black vacuum. He gasped through his sobs, his frail body trembling. A faint light approached, shaping into two glowing, tender hands that cupped his small cheeks.

  "Mom..." Yuma whispered, his voice drowned in tears.

  His mother’s gentle voice echoed through the void, radiating warmth and safety: "My little one... do not be sad."

  "But Mom... they hurt me! They threw me to the ground! I don't want to go out again!" Yuma cried, recalling the harsh words and painful shoves.

  "Yuma, you must hold on for the sake of your future. Do not heed those who wish to pull you down. Instead, rise again! Do not let them see your weakness. You are my little hero... and my hero is brave and valiant."

  She began to pull her hands away slowly, receding step by step as her voice began to fade: "Rise... for there is someone waiting for you..."

  Yuma reached out his small hand, rushing toward her in desperation: "Don't go! Don't leave me!"

  Her voice vanished completely, leaving only a faint whisper: "You are not alone..."

  At that moment, Yuma felt a soft hand grasping his—a real, warm hand. He slowly opened his eyes to see the elegant, pointed ear of Luna.

  "You... you’re awake, Yuma?" Luna whispered in a faint, hoarse voice.

  Yuma looked into her startled eyes, which bore the shadows of the long nights she had spent tending to him. They were shimmering now with a pure, radiant joy at his awakening.

  Scene III: Rising from the Ashes

  Yuma struggled to rise, his body heavy with bandages. He pressed a hand to his throbbing head, trying to anchor himself.

  "Luna... please, don't be so hard on yourself," he muttered.

  "Where are we? I remember losing consciousness next to Episodios' corpse."

  Luna looked away, her voice heavy with grief. "We have no home to return to. The village is gone, consumed by fire. We barely escaped and set up this makeshift camp. You’ve been out for three days, Yuma. Your breath was so shallow, I thought..."

  She clutched her hands, her sorrow turning into a sudden flare of anger. "How could you be so reckless?! Do you want to die, you fool? Three days ago, you were nothing but a bag of bones! Did you even consider, for a second, how I would feel if you never woke up?"

  "Luna, I’m sorry, I didn't—"

  She cut him off, tears streaming down her face for the first time. "I care about you, Yuma! I can't bear the thought of losing you. You gave me the hope and warmth I lacked my entire life. Your absence was... painful. So painful."

  Yuma was stunned. After a moment of silence, he hesitantly reached out, wiping a tear from her cheek. "Please, don't cry. If it weren't for you and the warmth of your hand, I’d still be lost in my nightmares. I don't know if I deserve this, but I accept it gladly."

  Luna stared at him with resolve. "Promise me you won't be that reckless again."

  "I promise... I'll try," Yuma replied.

  She turned her head away, huffing, "Idiot."

  The tent flap opened, and Eldred entered with a small box of medicines, followed by little Linny carrying bandages.

  "Luna, here are the— Oh! Our hero is awake!" Eldred exclaimed.

  Linny rushed to hug him, "Big brother Yuma! I knew you'd wake up!"

  "Linny, be careful! His wounds!" Luna cried out.

  Yuma patted Linny’s head. "It’s okay, I feel much better thanks to Linny."

  However, Luna’s expression turned to one of confusion as she began removing his bandages. "This is impossible..." She stripped the cloth from his waist and shoulder.

  "Luna? What's wrong?"

  "Your wounds... they've healed already," she whispered in shock.

  There, on Yuma's shoulder, was a strange new mark: a dragon’s head tattoo, dark crimson, pulsing slowly as if it were a living heart.

  Scene IV: The Legacy of Myths

  Eldred stepped forward, pulling an ancient, leather-bound book from beneath his robes. His fingers trembled with awe as he flipped through faded pages adorned with forgotten symbols.

  "The Dragon Tattoo," Eldred whispered, his voice thick with reverence. "A legend we thought had passed into the realm of myths. This is no mere decoration, Yuma. It is the 'Seal of the Resilient Body.' Asterion’s essence didn't just heal you; it altered your very nature."

  He looked at Yuma with piercing eyes. "Your skin will grow tougher, your bones harder, and your strength has surged beyond human limits. This is promising, my boy, but you must allow your body a few days to acclimate to this change."

  A heavy silence followed. Anxiety clouded Yuma’s face as a chilling thought took root: 'Am I becoming a monster? Am I losing my humanity for the sake of power?'

  Eldred, noticing his distress, flipped another page. "Rest easy. For now, this is raw instinctive power. It only activates when your body senses imminent danger." He shut the book with a heavy thud.

  "That aside... the question I still cannot answer revolves around the nature of your sword. But we have time. I have much to do now. When you feel ready, meet me in the main tent. Two guards are waiting for you outside."

  He turned to Luna and Linny. "He needs time to gather himself, especially in this new state. Luna, Linny... leave him for a while."

  As they exited, Yuma remained alone, contemplating the destiny awaiting him beyond the tent flaps. Inside his mind, the memories of Obsidios began to crack and roar, fighting to break free and flood his consciousness.