1606, anno Domini.

I am not human.

Each passing day in my abode, a cave now feared by all because of my presence in it, I am reminded of the fact that I am the last of my kind. Water flowing from a river that passes through often splashes against my blue-ish scaly skin, my red razor claws, and my plated snout. My spiked tail drags behind me as I stalk the floor of the cave in search of rodents to feed on, but by now all of them have either been eaten or fled. Thus, I have begun to hunt outside, living up to my name as the Creature of Sin: the Lizardman.

Long ago I used to use weapons, and even longer ago I used to lead a pack. I was the first of my kind, and only a few years of aging gave me the prominent plate and horns that adorn my head, visually declaring me the alpha. We escaped from captivity, our creators slaughtered because they stood in our way. My brethren all died sooner than I did because they were made to… my long age a fluke that came with being the first of my kind. I may have been the strongest, but I had failed my purpose from the start. What a cruel fate for me.

One day as I rested in my abode after feasting on an unfortunate traveler, gently wiping or licking away the delicious blood that stained my hands and lips, I felt a presence enter the cave. This was no unknowing passerby… I could sense something different about him… a power beyond any that I have ever felt. He appeared before me, a tall man clad in ancient armor with a plumed Corinthian helmet. He carried in his right hand a glowing spear and his other an ornate shield.

"He must be a god…" I thought in my mind. I was shocked to hear him reply, "You will refer to me as Ares, the God of War, Aeon Calcos!" Never before have I been able to communicate with another being, besides others of my deceased pack.

"The years have taken your memory from you," his voice boomed like a war drum, "But I have need of you once again. Your master betrayed me and I have dealt with him accordingly, but since he bowed to me, now you will bow to me as well."

I simply stared at him before he extended his ironclad hand outward, and the next thing I knew, I had collapsed to the ground. Breathing heavily, I tried sorting through all of the thoughts that had just entered my head, returning to me as the lapses faded away.

I was a human, a Spartan soldier who lived in the Ottoman Empire. One day, I received the blessed Xi Sword and Game Shield, signifying that I was one of twenty-four warriors selected by the smith-god Hephaestus to destroy the accursed blade, Soul Edge. Perhaps he was jealous that such a weapon could be so powerful and yet not be made by him. During my journey, I got lost, though I was eventually found by a group of benevolent nomads. I was about to repay their kindness before Soul Edge's evil presence found its way into me and made me slaughter them all. I resigned myself to living alone in fear that I would never be accepted back into society.

Stories of my misdeed spread far and wide, eventually to the ears of the wretched Kunpaetku of the cult of Fygul Cestemus. He kidnapped me and turned me into what I am now, bending me to his will and ordering me to retrieve Soul Edge. I failed at that task.

One day years after that, though, I was freed. Some shockwave of energy shook me of the foulness that was Kunpaetku's will, and so I was able to escape with the help of the other lizardmen. We hoped to return to the old temple where I had been first transformed, but we found it ruined and Kunpaetku dead. All hope had fled from me by then, allowing the beast to take me over and lead the pack.

After I had gathered my thoughts, I thought in my mind a question towards the figure in front of me, "What do you want with me?"

"All I want is to offer you a chance at revenge," he declared, "Now I recognize Hephaestus as the true obstacle in my path, as it was his damned 'chosen heroes' that have denied me the blade Soul Edge for all these years. Of course, I myself cannot go forth and fight for it… so why not have the man most willing to end the smith-god do it in my stead?"

I liked the sound of the offer, but began to refuse, "I tossed aside my weapons long ago. As strong as I may be, I can never become strong enough to challenge the current wielder of that blade."

"In your current state, yes. But you forget that I am the god of war, and I can grant power beyond mere strength. Just watch."

He extended his hand and I began to feel pain again, but this time… this time it felt… soothing. The fires that raged in my soul danced at the promise of tinder to make them burn greater than ever before. I felt them extend upwards and come through my back as they marked my new greatness like a plume of feathers, but then I felt them cool and they soon became white feathers, lined just below my neck.

My confusion was visible as I tried grabbing at this new growth. Ares watched and said, "Surely you have heard of Icarus and how he perished when he flew too close to the sun. I trust that you will not make the same mistake."

I began to think about that story and how Icarus flew with a pair of wings, but surprise interrupted me as large, white wings burst from the top of my back. I was scared by them until I realized that I was in full control of them, and thus began to try and fly. I could not get that high up off of the ground, given my great weight as of now, but I felt new life in me as I felt power from these wings course through my veins.

"Be grateful, for that is only one of the gifts I have given to you," I turned to look as he spoke to me again, "After all, you still need a weapon."

I returned to the ground, my new wings retracting and disappearing into my back as quickly as they had appeared. and walked over to him, my now taller-than-average height almost nothing compared to his massive stature. He took a shard of metal in his hand it showed it to me.

"This is a piece of your old weapon, the Xi Sword," he explained, "While it may now just be a fragment of a filthy sword created by Hephaestus, I will use it forge for you new weapons."

Light began to pour through openings in the cavern and surround the fragment as it began to take a new shape, eventually forming into two handaxes with edges sharp as the end of the world.

"Behold," his voice thundered, "Ktinos and Anthropos, fury forged."

I took the axes in my hands and immediately liked the feel of them. I practiced my aged style as I cut through the air in rapid succession, the low swishes of the metal resounding through the cave. I looked over to Ares, his expression ever still, as he declared, "Now you are ready."

I stared at the axes, "Yes…"

Menelaus Mattas was the first of the original twenty-four warriors sent to destroy Soul Edge. The son of a wealthy Athenian noble, he liked the sound of becoming a hero. However, unlike the rest of the chosen ones, he lost the motivation to continue his journey once he had heard that other warriors had reached the blade first. He took the Alpha Spear he had been entrusted with back to his hometown and resumed living as he did before, without a care in the world.

It was the middle of the night in his great house where he lived alone. Menelaus slept on the bed in his room, with the filthy spear at his side. He only stirred at the sound of something rustling the bushes outside of his window. Hearing it more, he got up from the bed and went to investigate. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary to him at first.

The attack came swift. I jumped through the window and grabbed at his neck with my claws, wrestling him to the ground. Something about the look in his eyes seemed to say that somehow he recognized me. Regardless, he mustered all of his strength and managed to throw me to the side away from him as he went to pick up his spear, lying next to the bed as he had it every night. Grabbing it just in time, he used its metal staff to deflect a blow from my axes. He swept at my legs, but I jumped over it and tackled him out the window.

Now we were outside. We stood apart from one another, him in his battle stance and me in mine. We rushed at one another, clashing metal against metal. While he was able to withstand most of my attacks, I had a speed advantage. At one point, he tried to stab at me and I used the hooked end of one of my axes to wrest the spear from his grasp. Now he was unarmed.

I kicked him to the ground, but he was able to roll on his side fast enough to avoid my grasp. To catch him, I had to jump into the air, unveiling my wings as I dove and landed right on top of him, keeping him in place. I swung my left axe at him and he grabbed the hilt, struggling against me. He did the same when I swung my other axe. I ended the lock by biting his face with my vicious teeth, making him lose his grip and allowing me to strike him down.

I stood over his body and felt a great hunger. My claws became bloodied as I ripped at his flesh and began to consume it. As I did, I felt no regrets, but rather a euphoria. After all, it is my first goal to kill and consume the holy warriors of Hephaestus, to send a message. I realized that I was doing what I was meant to do all along… conquer a quest ordained by a god. I am not Aeon Calcos. His death was at the hands of Kunpaetku and I was born from it. Aeon Calcos was weak. I am strong. I will complete my quest.

I have never been human.