Secrets of the Past (Prologue End)

Cain found himself in a void filled with fluorescent lights, glowing in the distance. They were stars.

In Netherane, in all of the Landfill, there were no stars in the sky. There were only the three moons and the black hole that overlooked them

Cain was awed by the vastness of the space, he had never seen anything like it. 

He quickly realized he could stand on the nothing surrounding him. There was ground beneath him yet he saw nothing below. It was nauseating, to say the least.

It was when he started to wander around the open space a figure appeared in front of him—a projection of an old man with a long white beard, covered in wrinkles. He wore green robes and held a staff resembling a tree root.

The old man opened his mouth, and his voice sounded husky but powerful, "Young man, you should not be here... but the other descendants are dead. So... you'll have to do. Listen up! There is not a lot of energy left; the magics of old will soon run out."

Before Cain could get a word in, the old man began to recount a tale.

==================

Where we are now is a room recreated to replicate the constellations of Neafis, the planet Netherane once called home.

Originally, Netherane had been a forest that teemed with life, home to the Great Earth Tree. Humans were created from it, molded from the earth itself.

When I was young, I was chosen to be the messenger and priest of the Great Earth Tree, granting me access to the energy of Neafis and the ancient magic tied to it.

However, Netherane lost this energy when it fell prey to the powers of plague and death after being transplanted to this place, the Landfill. The reason for this shift remained a mystery to everyone, but it led to the loss of the earthly energy provided by the planet.

The Great Earth Tree, a creation of the earth, was deeply affected. 

When we came to this place, the Great Earth Tree's roots were severed from the core when the transplantation occurred, leaving the Tree without its source. This change transformed the once-great tree into something unrecognizable. It began compensating for the loss of energy by siphoning vitality from its own creations.

Its roots extended through the ground, infiltrating the earth and connecting to all the roots of life. The tree infected them, draining energy and turning everything into withered husks.

With this siphoning, the landscape underwent a dramatic transformation. Meanwhile, humans found themselves in a foreign land, engaging in conversations and trade with other humans from different places. They shared ideas, food, equipment, and technology.

During these times, people like me slowly witnessed the horrifying transformation of the Great Tree.

The Tree turned into a source of disease and death. With it, the power of bacteria and viruses. It used this new power to infect humans, causing rapid mutations with no known cure.

Countless died, not only in Netherane but all around. It had far passed the million mark and was rising.

We conducted extensive research and finally opened the door for us, the people, to understand these afflictions caused by our once great protector, we realized they could control the pathogens it set on us. 

The saturation of energy from our old home or the uniqueness of the Landfill might have caused this newfound power. Regardless, this power became our steadfast method of curing our fellow humans. We were dubbed doctors and healers for our efforts.

But our actions drew the ire of the once-revered Great Lord, the Earth Tree, which had become twisted beyond recognition. Faced with this abomination, we resorted to the only solution we could conceive: sending the tree down into the earth, deep into the earth, using the last of the energy left in our bodies from Neafis.

Through our efforts, we succeeded in sealing the twisted tree Numineer deep in the abyss, countless died. 

With the trickling remains of our energy, we created cities. They were hailed as ancestors and ended up living for eons due to the side effects of our great power and the mutations of our bodies reacting to the ancient magics. 

In our encroaching age, we never gave up on returning the land we once had and one of us even succeeded in returning the land to its former lush state.

During this golden age of healing, we developed technology and materials to shield ourselves from Numineer's influence, strengthening our resistance to the still-living Tree of Plagues. 

However, mortality still loomed, and we had to pass on our legacies to our descendants before time ran out. 

One by one, we succumbed to death, leaving only a lone messenger behind to warn future generations if Numineer's influence ever returned. 

But now that messenger is dead and all our descendants joined him. Numineer was now closer than ever to being free, who knows what time had done to it, for better or worse.

==================

Cain gazed at the projection and scoffed, "And what is your reason for telling me this? Your 'descendants' have caused me hell, ruining and stomping on life! Do you know what this place has become for people like me?"

The image frowned with discontent, it too disliked its descendants' actions. Even so, it tried to persuade Cain.

"That may be the case, but it could just be the nature of this place, like how it corrupted my Lord! It is not my people's fault, and it doesn't mean you shouldn't help save the innocent who will be ruthlessly slaughtered!"

Cain laughed, "Innocent? There are no innocent people! You talk of them being slaughtered, but they already slaughter themselves for power and greed! I'm already closer to Numineer than human anyway, more disease than human! I owe you or your people nothing!"

The image gritted his teeth, displeasure radiating from its person. It was enraged.

"Not owing us? You have taken generations of knowledge and information for yourself! You learned our ways of controlling disease and the path of healing! How dare you say you don't owe us!"

It slammed its staff to the ground, waves of energy bashing against Cain like waves. But like the projection was a shell to its form, its power was hollow as well.

Yet it still kept a strong demeanor. "The audacity! You say you're not human, but you will always remain a human at heart, no matter how lost you are!

"Even now, I believe my lord is still deep inside that disgusting creature Numineer! So don't you dare say you have thrown away your humanity! For you forever hold your past within!"

"You're just an image." Cain stood before the old sage, it stared at him solemnly but retained its pride… and meager hope. 

Cain simply waved his hand, and the image disintegrated into particles of pure energy.

The energy felt clean, like cool running water against his skin, giving Cain a sense of peace as he breathed it into his lungs while walking through it.

"Y-You! You will regret this! You are only a pawn, a branch he is manipulating!"

As the last remnants of the priest disappeared, panels of the stars turned pure white one by one. 

At the end of this transformation, the entire room resembled a white void. Were it not for the items around the room, Cain would've thought he had been transported to a plane of nothingness.

The room was barren for the most part, with tables, racks holding weapons, and an area with a high-tech-looking fridge holding vials containing different pathogens. 

Excited, Cain first walked to one of the different rotting tables and examined the papers covering it. The pages detailed various ideas and inventions for blocking Numineer's influence, likely leftovers from ancestors before their demise.

The other tables held similar contents, but one table stood out. It was newer and made of pristine wood, neatly stacked with notes detailing the infrastructure of the Empire and Kingdom, including information about spies sent by both powers.

The papers also provided insights into events within the two kingdoms, factions, personal lives of higher-ups, divisions, their structures, functions, and true purposes. 

However, there were scarce details about the royal family, mainly emphasizing their significant power and that was it.

Not hiding the smirk on his face, Cain considered a clever idea. He memorized the papers and turned his attention to the weapon rack. 

The weapons on display were numerous and undoubtedly special and powerful.

He selected a pair of Yurombi from the bunch, their appearance was powerful and sleek but not flashy, featuring black hilts and slightly red blades with an obsidian hue. The pommels had green spiked ends, and the daggers' design gave off an ominous aura.

Cain didn't even need to decide, he immediately took their scabbards and set them on his belt, behind his back.

With some space left on his waist, Cain decided to choose another weapon for future training.

He delved into his memory and looked for a powerful weapon technique. After a bit, he settled on a maul. The one he picked boasted a long shaft with a short handle, one end was flat and the other featured a long spike like a stinger. 

The weapon was primarily stained with blood. But it also had golden details and a brown hilt. 

Overall, it resembled the possession of a war god. The accompanying weapon technique was exceptionally potent, compensating for the Yurombi's lack of sheer power.

Cain arranged his newly acquired weapons on his belt, realizing the clothes he was wearing were almost rags. His attire had been torn, bloodied, and riddled with holes, giving him the appearance of a beggar. 

'I should find clothes.' He made a mental note.

Finally, he approached the vials containing various viruses. Among them was a longevity vial, but Cain paid it little mind. 

He made note of the other vials, complete with labels but lacking detailed descriptions. He decided to investigate them later, he could always look for the information in his mind.

But now was the time to leave, he had already spent too long here. He grabbed all the vials, heading back through the other vault rooms.

Cain made sure to tear up documents and destroy traces of his presence as best as he could. He couldn't be connected, he couldn't show any evidence he was alive.

By the time he reached the first room, a team was cutting open the vault door.

'Shit, people are already here? Union…no, another country then.'

Cain prepared himself as the cutting stopped.

'Oh? They couldn't get in? Must not be very good then.'

Just as the thoughts extinguished, the vault door exploded into a torrent of flames. The intruders ran in, covered in black clothing and masks, brandishing short swords, bows, and various other weapons.

Cain recognized them as a task force from the Puffrid kingdom.

'Known for recovering lost items. Yeah, that has to be them, Union information can't be wrong.' He already had a considerable amount of information in his head on all political powers.

Each squad was led by a Grade 2 plague doctor, a profession Cain now detested. They may have been called doctors once, but they have long lost the right to be called doctors, especially in Grade 2, when their focus shifted from healing to harm. He decided it would be more accurate to refer to them as Plague Bearers instead, who knew what influenced him for such a decision?

Cain bit his arm, allowing blood to flow. As the crimson drops hit the floor, they transformed into a mist that slowly enveloped the room. 

The squad from the Kingdom quickly realized something was amiss.

"Watch out, this seems to be some trap. Cover your mouths!"

'Not an elite squad for nothing…if only they realized it wasn't a poisonous gas.'

It was too late. The mist moved with blistering speed, passing through the task force's clothing. It's deadly work already begun.

Their shrill screams reverberated through the vault, their skin melting, and their bodies oozing blood, reducing them to puddles that quickly evaporated and joined the red mist. 

Cain reabsorbed the mist, condensing it into his blood. He then illuminated the room with the closest available light source, a torch. He burned everything.

With his work done, Cain walked out while whistling.

…

Outside the headquarters, the city remained in chaos. The recently deceased had become zombies, driven by instinct to spread. With their leader gone, they mindlessly wandered, contributing to the city's undead population.

Cain doubted that anyone would venture to cleanse the city of its new inhabitants. They served better as a deterrent, allowing powerful groups to scavenge and use this place for their own uses.

Since Cain was near his home, he decided to visit it first. However, he also planned to explore a manor, one whose ownership he couldn't remember. But he knew it was important to go there.

Trusting his own judgment, he proceeded toward the manor, believing it held valuable items on his route.

…

Entering the manor where he had once resided, Cain found his memories of the place hazy and elusive. He climbed the stairs and reached his old room, where he discovered a young man rummaging through the closet.

The man locked eyes with Cain, his face drained of color.

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Prologue End.

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