Nameless Star of the Apocalypse Reborn

The forest was ablaze.

This was the city I built—the Forest of Death—where once, any human could seek refuge. Now it was a monument to destruction, the flames licking at its charred remains like greedy fingers.

At the forest's edge, Aries stood over the body of a man severed at the waist. The man's life ebbed away, but Aries felt no sympathy, no hesitation. He stared down at the man, blood-stained white robes billowing in the smoke-choked air.

"Why?" Aries rasped, his voice cold and hoarse. "Why have you betrayed us? Why destroy my city, slaughter my people. For 40 years we gathered our strength, fought for survival, and now you point your sword at us. After all we've been through together."

His eyes, empty and distant, "Were we not already dead in this alien world?"

The village had stood on the edge of the world, a sanctuary among the chaos. The Forest of Death—once hidden from monsters, now reduced to ashes. Their peace had always been a fragile illusion, built on the bones of the fallen. Now, that too was gone.

Everything was quiet.

The leader of the Forest of Death, Aries, stood there, unmoving, as he watched his once close friend take his last breath. He should have felt something—regret, guilt—but all that surfaced was a dull ache. Would he have lived a different life, given the choice?

Too many had died.

Even the innocent had bled by his hands. It had never been enough to protect them—this wasn't a world that allowed such fantasies. Living a different life… that's probably impossible.

It was hard to imagine living among others, not with the stench of blood clinging to him like a second skin.

Thud!

His legs gave out. Aries collapsed to his knees, wounds covering his body like a roadmap of suffering. He laughed bitterly—what was left of it, anyway. A miracle, they might call it. Surviving this long, bleeding as much as he had, was nothing short of absurd. He had always been strong, but not even his training could prepare him for this.

It's been a long road.

He forced a smile, though it felt wrong on his lips. How long had it been since he smiled for real? Since home had been more than a distant memory? Forty years ago, he'd been just a regular teen, living a life of mediocrity on Earth.

Then, without warning, everything changed. Summoned to the New World.

The World's End, they called it—a place where demons ruled with the Authority of Gods. Humans didn't last long here. Not without becoming monsters themselves.

Thrown into this nightmare, there had been no time to adjust, no time to find his footing. He'd had to fight from the very start, and trust? That was a luxury he couldn't afford.

For decades, humans had learned to treat life as expendable. They hoarded what little they had, carving out small sanctuaries like the Forest of Death. Aries had founded it himself, driven by the need to survive. He trained, recruited, made friends, and killed. Always killed. Until one day, the killing no longer mattered.

The guilt had vanished long ago.

He had gone too far, he knew that now. Too far to live among others like he once had. The world only had space for gods and kings—he was neither. Only a warrior, a god of war, and even that path had reached its end.

Aries looked up at the sky. "It will probably be the last time I see a sky like this."

The stars twinkled above him, cold and indifferent. But one star—one lone star—shone brighter than the rest, its light unwavering. It felt… alive. Watching him. Knowing him.

His breath caught in his throat as something stirred within him. Fate? Madness?

Just a fleeting thought.

I've lost my mind...

His eyes fluttered shut, and silence followed him into the dark.