chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Fate that Ensnared**

It has been 6.5 years since I began running from the gods who wanted to destroy me. The places I've stayed have always changed—from dark valleys, lonely mountains, to cities forgotten by civilization. Every time I felt safe, another god would appear, trying to capture or kill me. They always said the same thing, as if the words were a mantra etched into their minds, "Kill the child in the prophecy."

I don't know what they mean. I don't remember ever hearing any prophecy about me. No one has told me why I am their target. All of this began so suddenly, as if out of the darkness that violently struck my life without warning. To me, this is not just a game or a battle; it's a hunt, and I am the prey.

Each night, when I'm alone and there is no sound but the biting wind, I always ask myself. What are they chasing? Why me? Why are they so desperate to destroy me? There are no answers, only a deepening mystery.

Now, I'm in a place that might give me a little more time to survive. This is the northern region, a harsh place with unrelenting snowstorms. Every day, a new storm arrives, covering everything with the cruel white of snow. The temperature is so cold, it feels as if the blood in my veins has stopped flowing. But I've gotten used to this pain.

Strangely, my body can adapt to any condition. I am not an ordinary human. There is something unusual and unnatural about my body. And the longer I live on the run, the more I begin to realize that my body is both a blessing and a curse.

My body quickly adapts to the surrounding environment. When I first arrived in the north, the cold nearly made me pass out. But within days, my body started to change. My skin became more resistant to the biting cold, my bones felt sturdier, and my breath began to adjust to the thin air. This blessing, I think, is the reason I can keep surviving in a place impossible for ordinary humans.

But there's a dark side to this blessing. My curse—my blood contains poison. It's not poison that will kill me, but it is deadly to those who fight me. There have been times during battles with the gods when I deliberately hurt myself. I would take their weapons, let my blood drip onto them, and then return the weapon to them. When the weapon, tainted with my blood, struck them, their bodies became poisoned. They didn't know what was happening until it was too late.

But that's not all. There's something even more terrifying about my blood. The gods, those trying to kill me, also want me alive. They know my blood can grant great power to anyone who can control it. I've heard them whisper in the shadows, hoping they could use my blood to enhance their strength. They want to control something that should never be controlled.

I remember the first time I realized my blood was a source of power. It was a battle I could never have won, fighting three gods at once. I was gravely wounded, barely able to stand. But when I was cornered, I felt something erupt inside me. The blood that flowed from my wounds began to change, radiating a deadly aura. I could feel the poison coursing through my blood, and the gods who approached staggered before collapsing to the ground, dying.

Since then, I knew I could control the poison in my blood. I began training, drinking various poisons to make my body more immune. At first, it felt like burning every cell in my body, but over time, my body began to accept the poison, even using it to strengthen my defenses. My body had become a living laboratory, where poison and immunity coexisted in a strange balance.

However, even though I can control the power within my body, I still cannot control the fate that hunts me. I must keep running. Those who know of my existence will continue to pursue me, and the only ones I can trust are Mia and myself.

Mia is the one who has always been by my side. She is different. Since the first time I found her, Mia has never changed. Her appearance remains the same, no matter how much time has passed. While I continue to grow and change, Mia stays as she was when I first found her—looking so young, with large eyes full of curiosity.

I don't know where Mia came from. There's no logical explanation for her immortality. But I know one thing: Mia is the only being that has never betrayed me, the only one who has never spoken of the prophecy or tried to take my blood for power. In a world full of lies and deceit, Mia is the only one I can trust. Her presence is a comfort in a life filled with suffering.

I often wonder if Mia is part of the prophecy. Maybe she knows something I don't. But she never says anything. She remains silent, accompanying me on this endless escape.

One day, when the snowstorm was at its fiercest, I left Mia in the cave we were using as a hideout. I had to search for supplies. The wind was so strong it felt like it was tearing my skin, but I was already used to these storms. As I walked against the wind, I saw something in the snow. A child lay there, his body almost buried under thick piles of snow.

I stood there, staring at the child. In my mind, I thought, "This child… about my age now, or at least looks that way. His face… reminds me of someone."

"The face seemed like something I had seen before, but I had forgotten. I didn't know where I had seen it."

The child slowly opened his eyes, with a weary and exhausted gaze. He looked so fragile, almost like a shadow that would disappear if touched. I felt something inside me, a sudden urge to save him. But I couldn't trust anyone in this world. Everyone could be a threat.

I approached him, staring sharply and said, "If you want to live, prove yourself." Without waiting for his response, I cut my own hand, letting my blood flow into my palm, then dropped a few drops of blood into his mouth. I wanted to see what would happen. Would he survive? Or would his body succumb to the poison running through my veins?

I turned and left him there without a word. I didn't have time to deal with others. I had to stay focused on my goal: survival. The only ones I trusted were Mia and myself. Everyone else was a potential threat. If the child survived, maybe he was worthy of life. If not, then he was just another victim in this cruel game.

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