This is fanfiction that has been breeding in my head for months now, and, that I was meaning to write during the summer. But since I only recently finished the BBCSE story mode and I'm now starting college, I won't have much time to update as frequently because I'm real life embodiment of Sima Zhao from the Dynasty Warriors series (but African); I need to get my shit together.
Anyway, here is my first chapter. It's short but I hope it's enjoyable, especially since you decided to click this despite of the craptacular summary and lack of cover.
(PS. They should really add a Six-Heroes option for characters)
To those who temper and tap into its limitless power, the boundary becomes the definition of destruction, a catalyst for the decadence of something important; sanity, in an excruciatingly slow process.
Deep in the boundary is rumoured to be the answers to all of the world's sacred questions. Many humans have tried to attain that knowledge and wisdom, which only Gods should possess, via many extreme methods. The result was always failure heaped upon failure and a guaranteed terrifying demise.
However, some of the world's top scientists continued to claim that history hidden from the world had shown: there were rare cases of beings with the capability to sustain their existence within the boundary, and thus, tap into its power. Unfortunately, what even those top scientists were unaware of is that even those rare special beings lost something. Due to this, the means of survival remains unknown to most.
Inside the boundary, one of these seldom cases saw and lay on nothing; his limbs fragile and limply-hanging, his face bleak and expressionless, his body numb and cold as if he had broken the snow-woman's promise. Due to the colossal side effects of the boundary, it was only natural to assume that the boundary was the cause for his frigid state. However, assuming so would be a distortion of the truth, because his consciousness remained mostly intact, meaning; the boundary had not eroded his existence to an entirely crippling degree.
Why?
That was a mystery.
So, what was certain?
The man had been dead for an ambiguous amount of time, only recently had he awoke.
But he didn't know that; he could not remember much, or anything. The one thing that kept him existing, the only thing he could remember, was a beautiful woman crying; screaming what must have been his name, over and over again in dread before his vision faded to back, and sound ceased to be made.
"KEN! KEN! KEN! KEN! KEN! KEN! KE... K..."
Ironically, said memory only provided him with more questions. He began to ramble dimly; barely above a whisper because he had yet to reacquaint himself with his voice. "... Who is she..? ...Why is she crying..? ...Did I make her cry..? ...She's so pretty... and nice... I must be a monster to make someone like that cry... I think I want to marry her... Don't cry..."
Deep down in his mind, he knew the questions possessed simple answers.
"So why are they unreachable..? Why is the only thing I know, my name is Ken?"
It was because the wheel of fate had chosen his role and his body already agreed to it. It had agreed that there was only one thing he could do whilst trapped, the one thing she hated the most.
Like answering a question he did not want to answer correctly, he muttered lifelessly, grudgingly.
"...Nothing..."
Half way through this, I realised this could be a Hakumen one-shot...
Oh wells. Part 2, coming soon.
Leave a review if you feel like it.