Memories are like dark shapes in the fog...
No one is innocent...
This world has been infected by a plague...
I stare numbly at the sword in my hand...
I held this sword year after year...
The dark red stains on its blade keep reminding me... this sword has drunk the blood of many people...
And countless wronged souls, who will never fade away, wail in my ears, as if cursing me to die every waking moment...
I always thought... this world was darkness itself...
It never gives you a glimmer of hope, never lets you catch your breath...
It crushes you mercilessly, leaving you no chance to rise again...
Endless slaughter, death at every turn... despair stretching as far as the eye can see...
When you’re trapped in the dark, you can only struggle to survive in it forever...
The instincts of my body keep driving me to stay alive...
I thought that was the only choice when you were trapped in darkness...
Until, forced to the end of my rope, I came to an academy called St. Freya...
The fog lifted.
