Drifting through the silent ruins of the battlefield, the young man—if he could even be called that—felt the weight of his nameless existence pressing down on him. He had survived the monstrous beast, fled through the shadows, and pushed his fragile body beyond its limits. But who was he? What was he?

  The voices of the past whispered in his mind, echoes of a world he could barely remember. He had no history, no family, and no identity. The only thing that had truly belonged to him was his will to survive.

  Sitting beneath the twisted remains of a fallen tree, he stared at his trembling hands. They were battered, bruised, yet they belonged to him. His power—though weak now—was his. If he was to carve a pce in this world, he needed a name. Something that would anchor him, something that would remind him that he was not just a stray soul wandering aimlessly.

  He closed his eyes, feeling the cold wind brush against his skin. A name… it had to mean something. Strength. Resilience. A future.

  Then, it came to him.

  “…EXQ.”

  He whispered it first, testing how it felt on his tongue. The sound was unfamiliar, yet it resonated deep within him. He didn’t know where it came from—perhaps a memory buried too deep to reach—but it felt right.

  A slow exhale left his lips. EXQ. He was no longer just an empty vessel.

  For the first time since his awakening, he felt real.

  And with that, the first step toward his true destiny was taken.