The first and last text from the archive of the Tablets of Nothingness :
The sin of Nothing is the curse that has doomed most of humanity to perish.
It expresses the primary abilities that any person afflicted with sin obtains, nothing.
Wind sound... Green leaves flying above the sky.
After Seven months in the forest...
In the forest of the village of ruins
Dusk was slipping between the trees like a torn garment forgotten at the edges of time, and the cool breeze whispered in the ears of the leaves like hymns to creatures that had become extinct centuries ago. In a cave half-descended in the belly of the mountain,
Mayuth climbed the tree trunks lightly, but his agility wasn't perfect... There were moments of hesitation, as if his body had suddenly become stronger than usual, but he didn't yet know how to control it. His fingers tightened on the bark, sometimes slipping, then returning with strange certainty. In his other hand, he held a small dagger, which he quickly passed between his fingers as he climbed, trying out the movements he had recently trained himself to do. Quick strikes, but then suddenly cut short, as if he had forgotten what he intended to do. In a nearby corner, two heavy boulders he had just lifted lay, his arm muscles taut, sweat dripping from his forehead. He heard faint whispers... or perhaps hallucinations from the exhaustion of training. He jumped from a low branch, the fall not as smooth as he had wanted, but his feet touched the ground with moderate stability. His jumps weren't powerful yet, but better than they had been weeks ago. He didn't know why this power suddenly appeared and then vanished like smoke... but he could feel something inside him changing—slowly, randomly, as if his body were exploring its power before fully giving it to him. Mayuth stood for a moment, staring at the dagger in his hand, his breathing rapid, his eyes a mixture of bewilderment and determination. He was training, but he was also discovering himself anew.
Mayuth He is probably 17 years old now With black animal skin clothes and shabby pants with long black hair with some gray in it . And it was sat cross-legged, his back against the cold rock wall, contemplating a faint fire flickering lazily before him. Beside him lay a sharp dagger and a flimsy bow, like companions tired of waiting.
He was eating roast rabbit meat, gnawing at the pieces with his teeth as if chewing on petrified worries, his eyes wandering, not to the forest... but beyond the darkness, to something he had buried deep within his chest long ago.
In a nearby village, life seemed tense, like a taut thread about to snap. The village chief stood in the middle of a dirt square, surrounded by a number of volunteers, lined up in a ring that grew ever tighter around the villagers. Anyone with tattoos or strange marks on their bodies was put in line for interrogation, as if it were a ritual entering and exiting hell, not the village.
The merchants had been ordered not to sell anything without a permit. Mayuth didn't care. He walked past lightly, like an invisible shadow, until he heard the choked screams of two children being dragged toward the square. A guard violently handcuffed them, and an elderly man shouted, "Tupfu, leave them! They're just a boy and a girl, they look like they've sinned, nothing more!"
Mayuth didn't stop. He slipped through the alleys, avoiding the volunteers' eyes. One of them tried to call out to him, but Mayuth was faster than the wind. He ran and disappeared.
Then, high in a tree, he stood tall, dagger in hand, whispering to himself:
"I just have to know... why? Why did they do this? The politicians who gave them the orders are probably the ones who did it."
Within a few months, they had succeeded in brainwashing the villagers, making them believe that anyone bearing a "curse" or a "tattoo" was a danger that needed to be purified.
The Upper Island...
Inside a huge building high above the clouds, in a cold hall dominated by pale white lights, the Governing Council was meeting. Their faces were like masks, speaking in hushed tones about the "infected cases," about those they called "Spectra ." The decision was clear: if found, they would be arrested, and then their fate would be decided:
Either bitter government experiments...
Or execution.
Meanwhile, Mayoth had slipped into a shop and bought some gunpowder, avoiding the guards' gaze. He looked like someone was preparing something, something dangerous...
Horses arrived from afar, carrying the first contingent of official soldiers. Their commander dismounted and said sharply, "I hope you've prepared them."
"Yes," one of the villagers replied. "These are the ones we found."
A young man and a young woman, bound like animals, knelt at the soldiers' feet. The commander said with disdain, "Is that all you found? Are you making fun of me?!"
Then he added coldly, "Okay... I'll accept that. And maybe some of you will survive one day. Tell me... who hasn't passed your watcher?"
One of them stepped forward and whispered, "I saw a strange young man, sneaking between the houses. He hasn't undergone our training or our examinations."
The commander's tone grew louder. "Where is he?"
Suddenly, the soldiers rushed toward the village chief's hut, where flames were blazing from within. The charred body of a young, blond-haired man, wearing old clothes, lay beside an exhausted horse.
The commander approached, noticed a tattoo on the corpse's hand, and pulled a burnt piece of paper from its pocket. It read:
"If you want me... come to the big mountain near the village. I am the one who was crucified by the curse of death... come here, you bastards." A crescent-shaped sign.
One of the soldiers froze:
"This is crazy. What's going on? He's just a little idiot messing with us. Maybe he's trying to get our attention, or maybe he's a message that isn't even ours."
But the commander muttered:
"No... I don't think it's a coincidence. He knew that crescent-shaped tattoo was an old tattoo that hadn't appeared for centuries, and that he also carried the body of a spectre. I feel something strange about him."
Leave the detainees with a group of soldiers. We'll search for him.
In a few minutes... the sound of horses galloping in a forest.
A soft boom in the sky...
A soft flying sound...
An army approaches the area in a forest, with weapons ready and helmets shining.
A soldier whispered, "One young man? Even if we don't arrest him, will the Governing Council care?"
The commander replied, "That young man... is not like the others."
They approached a narrow path inside the forest. Night fell as if it had swallowed the colors. In the distance, a flame rose. From the side of a specific target near a mountain.
The commander ordered his unit to head toward the flames, remaining with only two soldiers. He had made an unintended mistake. He remained with the soldiers waiting.
Running... A rustling sound in the bushes. One of the soldiers took out his rifle and aimed at it... The sound of a crack. It was just... A large piece of wood shatters... a sudden, false target from afar. A bow above a tree fires an arrow that pierces a soldier's face...
He falls dead without even screaming.
The commander shouts, "Beware! The enemy is close!" Watch the place...
One of them jumps, and suddenly their horse's legs are shot with black pellets that release a substance around the horses. Then a fiery arrow is fired at them, burning the horses. The commander quickly runs out with the other soldier. It's a close attack.
On the horizon, the commander spots a running shadow.
It's Mayoth. He runs, his blood boiling. He's there to be hunted down. We'll kill him... The next moment, I won't be lenient with you, you rascal.
Mayoth whispers, as if announcing the beginning of the end to himself as he runs.
"It's time.... To find the reason"
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