Ashes of the Forgotten

"Ru... Ru, are you here?"

A distant voice echoed in the darkness. It was soft, hesitant, yet piercing through the void like a whisper in absolute silence.

Then another—this time, filled with sorrow.

"Ru, your dad... he's no more."

Ru's breath hitched.

Then, the voices overlapped—calling his name, repeating the same dreaded truth.

"Ru!""Ru!""Ru!"

And then—

"Your mom and dad... were killed by the devils."

"NOOO!"

Ru screamed, jerking upright. His body trembled, drenched in sweat. His heart pounded like a war drum inside his chest. His breath came in ragged gasps, as if he had just surfaced from drowning.

The world around him was unfamiliar. The room was dimly lit, and the air carried a strange, weighty silence.

Then, a shadow shifted near the door.

A calm, steady voice spoke. "You're awake?"

Ru turned sharply. His blood turned to fire the moment his eyes locked onto the figure standing before him.

Ikaris.

The memories came crashing down like a tidal wave. The flames, the destruction, the lifeless body of his mother.

His eyes burned, rage bubbling in his veins. "You killer! Why did you do this to me?!"

He lunged at Ikaris with all his might, fists clenched, his vision blurred with tears.

But before he could even get close, Ikaris raised a single hand.

A force—gentle yet unmovable—stopped Ru mid-air. He struggled, his fury refusing to let him back down, but it was useless. Ikaris held him there effortlessly, like a child throwing a tantrum.

"I told you before," Ikaris said, his voice carrying neither anger nor sympathy. "It wasn't me. The devils killed them."

Ru thrashed against the unseen force. "Then who are you?! You're no different from them!"

Ikaris exhaled, lowering his arm. The invisible grip loosened, and Ru stumbled back, his breath ragged.

"I was…" Ikaris hesitated. "But not anymore."

Ru clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. His body trembled with grief, with helplessness, with something he couldn't even name. "If that's the case…" he whispered, voice shaking, "then I'll wipe out every last devil from existence!"

Ikaris studied him carefully, his gaze sharp as steel. "Listen, kid…" he said at last. "It's time for you to know everything. A truth that began before even the beginning itself."

 Meanwhile, on Earth…

Varek, the head of the excavation team, sat in his study, his fingers tracing the edge of a fragile, ancient document. His brows were furrowed, deep in thought.

"The 'Legend of Ikaris'…?" he muttered under his breath. "Who is he?"

A fellow officer, standing beside him, shifted uncomfortably. "Lord Varek, we've been asking the same question. But something about this isn't right."

Varek's gaze snapped up. "What do you mean?"

The officer hesitated. "Whoever wrote this… they didn't just write a story. They turned it into a poem."

A chill ran down Varek's spine. He had seen many ancient texts, but something about this—about the way it was written—felt… deliberate.

"What?!" He snatched the papers from the officer's hands, scanning the words with growing unease.

The Tale of Ikaris

In the void of space so vast and wide,Lived Eternity, with none by his side.Lonely he was, in his cosmic reign,So he shaped a world to ease his pain.

Yet the emptiness still held tight,So he forged a spark, a being of light.From his essence, pure and bright,Came Ikaris, his heart's delight.

Together they laughed, together they dreamed,Till Ikaris thought of realms unseen."More must exist, not just we two,""Let's craft a world both vast and true!"

So they shaped the sky, the stars, the land,And two more beings by their hand.Rikus, the guide of mortal grace,Ruma, who watched the heavens' space.

But balance must always hold its ground,So Ikaris was given a realm profound.A kingdom deep where shadows dwell,Thus was born the land of Hell.

Mortals, Angels, and Devils rose,Each with powers that freely flowed.Magic was granted to humans below,Yet to devils, energy began to grow.

But power corrupts, as stories say,And soon, the devils lost their way.One stood tall, with strength untamed,A being feared, Zokaris named.

"Why should we bow? Why should we kneel?""The world is ours! Let's break the seal!"Yet Ikaris, wise and strong of mind,Refused the thirst that made them blind.

Zokaris sought, with heart so vile,A way to break his master's trial.To Eternity, he made his plea,"Give me the strength, and set me free!"

Eternity, though bound by fate,Agreed—but with a heavy weight."Three billion years, his cage will last,""And only mortals hold the past."

"He'll wake anew, but weak and lost,""His memories gone, his power tossed.""Only through trials, step by step,""He'll rise again and pay his debt."

"One day he'll rise," Eternity swore,"But Ruma must return once more.""For they are fragments of his soul,""And only whole, he'll take control."

But remember one thing…

Varek's voice faltered as he reached the final lines. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

"When stars shall break and shadows flee,""The lost god wakes, his soul runs free.""And in his grasp, both fierce and grand,""His axe shall fall to claim the land."

Varek's hands trembled. He turned to his officer, voice barely above a whisper.

"This isn't just a legend."

"This is a warning."