A long time ago, far before the Hunter Society's foundation, before the Zoldycks became a dynasty, before they were a line, even before they were a family, before stories and History had been separated, lived seven men, warriors, princes and poets, who seeked Wisdom. They lived great adventures, and learnt a lot, but when they found Wisdom, it was too early for them and they were rejected. On their way back home, they had been approached by Power, because Power is partial to people abandoned by Wisdom. Power lured them by a gift, and the seven men accepted it. This gift was the Nen, and this is how it had been given to Mankind.
Everyone developped the Nen in their way. The one who wanted to protect the weak developed Enhancement; this one who wanted to change the world chose Transmutation; the one who wanted to provide anyone's needs created Materialisation; the one who wanted to relieve every pain worked on Specialisation; this one who wanted to support every natural talent made Manipulation; the one who wanted to keep everyone in touch designed Emission; the one who were impatient and hated surprise wanted Temporality.
To everyone Power gave a territory to lead, because Power fed on oppression, and when it gives a great gift, it expects a greater return. First it had been disappointed. Six men were astute and generous, governing with intelligence, instituting fair laws, balancing economy, developing art and peace. They had such a horror of crime it was even forbidden to kill criminals. Power had forgotten Mankind must not be wise to lead.
But the Temporal overstepped all its expectations. Right after his coronation, he settled on a mountain peak, and used his nen to rule a thousand years-old empire that didn't exist the day before.
From a day to another, fertile lands were dried up from centuries of over-exploitation, people became poor and ill, nearby territories were conquered for generations, museum were emptied and pieces of art piled up in a beautiful manor on the mountain peak that nobody could remember its building.
Temporality nen controlled Time, but not Destiny; and only Destiny controlled memory. Slave children of slaves remembered their freedom; lands conquered for centuries remembered their language; and above all, everyone remembered loved one of whom nothing remained. Streets and countries crawled with roaming people, screaming names, asking questions, waving frames surrounding blank portraits, looking for their husband, wife, relatives, siblings, children, friends, and all their researches leaded to the same conclusion : they were never been born. They never existed.
Madness hit them all. Population became a heap of living bodies sheltering dead souls, hunched on their tears and memories that were only images and sounds.
It's told the Transmuter had been indignant. It's told he traveled thousands of kilometers to the Time Empire, on a horse trained by the Enhancer. It's told he let the Manipulator used his skills on him, so he would never need rest. It's told the Emitter cleared his path, moving aside mountains, rivers and forests, while the Materialist made for him a bag that will never run out food and water. It's told he met the Specialist on his way, who was the most delicate poet of this time. He wrote a supplication so beautiful and so moving that it would bring the emperor back to his senses. His charisma and eloquence were renowned, so he accompanied the Transmuter. It's told every nen acted for the same goal.
Nobody knew when the Transmuter changed his mind. It's supposed it occurred when they reached the Time Empire frontiers. Because when he saw those poor wretches who exchanged their humanity for despair, he became aware of the extent of the Emperor insanity. He knew that no word could reach a mind already insensitive to kindness and beauty. He decided to kill him.
It was the worst sacrilege, and was perfectly aware of it. It was probably why he didn't tell his companion, neither the other nen users. He didn't want to compromise their ethic. That will cause about his ruin.
Before they could reach the Emperor in the mountain peak, they'd have to confront a frightening fighters clan. It was told that their pupils' color reflected their insatiable bloodlust. The Transmuter told the Specialist he had a plan : he told him to stay by the mountain's foot while he'd be stealing their traditional clothes and blend in with them. So the Specialist never knew his friend slaughtered the Kurta clan. He spared one male only, and cursed him: he was condemned to have a posterity, to rebuild his clan again, who will live and will be slaughtered again, only one male child spared, and so it will be every hundred years, so their tournaments will never end.
When the Transmuter reached the palace at the peak, the Temporal of course had left for a while. He had been watching the Transmuter arrival, snorting at this pointless project. He couldn't care in the least about his guardians. He never cared about anyone. He sheltered in the future, thousands years after, when every nen user were dead, and he was reigning as an absolute master on the entire planet. It was his favorite aera.
But no human remained to be reigned on. Barely a couple of animals. The planet were dead. Only one living form, covered in blood and out of breath, were standing in front of him. He was staring at him, pure fury brightening in his scarlet eyes.
After millennials of massacres, the Kurta understood they were cursed, and who was responsible for it. They understood what the Temporal wished the most, and it was Power, and Power ruled Mankind only. So they confronted Mankind, and won. They knew they only could win. They knew at least one of them would survive. One of them always survived. They used their curse at their advantage.
Either the Temporal used his power to go back in time and cancel the curse, or there would be no matter to have this power at all. The Kurta survivor had a knife pointed on his own throat. No trace of doubt, no nervosity, in these scarlet eyes. He was ready to die.
In a fit of rage, the Temporal went back in time. He knew he would need the Specialist's help to cancel the curse. He had to cooperate, and he hated this.
The Transmuter met him.
"Your chausses are soaking with blood.."
"So are yours. There is blood everywhere a foot can step on, because of you."
" I'm aware of that. And I know you need the Specialist now. He's the softest and the weakest of us. I won't let you join him without a guarantee. I don't trust you."
"I don't care about your distrust. Just tell me what you want, and let me pass."
"Your nen."
The Temporal's eyes were wide open.
"Nobody can steal a nen."
"I don't want to steal it. Just to carry it while you're around the Specialist. I'll put it in there", he said, joining his hands, and then slowly spreading them.
A hole of pure darkness appeared.
"I can transform my aura in pure void. You nen will be safe here. You know I can't handle such a power very long. I will retun it to you before it destroys me"
The Temporal shrugged. He acted like he didn't care, but actually he didn't had any choice.
He didn't expect what happened next. He had never considered the Transmuter could murder him the very second he became nenless. He had always seen himself as the most devilish of all nen users; as a Wisdom rejection, he couldn't know that good intentions may lead to worse acts than immorality.
Time was freed from its yoke and took its rightful place back. The lands got its normal states back, those who must have been born were born, bringing back joy and health to people. Then, Time turned to Destiny, wondering what punishment deserved Mankind for its hubris. Destiny vouched for Mankind innocence. But Death had been insulted. The Temporal forbid people to be born; so what ? Unborn people wasn't Death's concern. But the Transmuter intervened between It and Mankind. His pride was unequalled. Death reclaimed the Transmuter as its property.
For their innocence, Destiny cleared people's memory. Nobody had a single recollection of the Emperor and the dark ages he unleashed on them. And to satisfy Death's wish, Destiny let the manor remained, along with the dead corpses.
Destiny didn't like to be commanded by Death, and had been impressed by the Transmuter bravery; so it leave him his memory. Destiny's presents are not always gifts.
The Transmuter had been accused of murdering an entire clan and a unknown man with no apparent reason.
The four other nen users had been called in to judge the most sacrilege of them all. For his defense, the Transmuter said an stranger nen had grown into his own, and made him lose his mind. The Specialist applied his hands on him, and found it, extracted it, and enclosed it in a nearby tree. It was the first Nen Exorcism.
The Transmuter also declared a man with scarlet eyes needed his help. But he was nowhere to be found. He had ran away, taking away with him the curse.
The Transmuter had been sentenced to never leave the mountain, so he'd be haunted by his crimes forever. No one recognized Destiny's voice speaking through their mouths, when they condemned him to carry the Mankind worst sin. He'd be the executioner, the one who'd keep Mankind's hands pure and clean, by taking murder upon himself and all his posterity. The Death's property.
To protect the population from this unstable man, the Enhancer built high outer walls around the mountain, and massive gates no usual person could open. To keep him in, the Materialist weaved immense, willowy dogs, who were able to feel the transformation ability; if the Mountain's master was no longer a Transmuter, they would leave, hunt down and devour every trace of it. The Manipulator gave them eternal life, and the inability to get attached, so they'd always be impartial; they'd only spare those who would be able to open the enhanced gates.
The Emitter has a good heart, and projected into the mountain a spring of pure water, fat games and seeds of fruit trees, so he would never lack anything. To thank him for his attention, the Transmuter named the mountain by the lapping of the spring on the pebbles, Kukuroo.
The Enhancer wanted to protect the population, but not to cruelly isolate his friend. He had made the gates for his own use, and visited him often all his lifetime. The Transmuter married his daughter, and had two sons. He never left the mountain where he lived long, with his offspring. He was the first Zoldyck, and the guardian of the legend of the seventh nen.
°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°
Silva had heard this story his entire life, just like his father before him, and his grandfather before him, and all the Zoldyck's heirs. He had been told the importance of a Transmuter heir, at risk of unleashing on the world and every transformation nen user a terrible curse. No one should ever know the Zoldyck's weakness. And above all, no one should ever know that, maybe, lying inside a tree, remained the trace of a nen so powerful it controlled time itself.
Maha once mentioned the Zoldyck patriarch eight centuries ago, who was so concerned by a possible deformation of the story through repetitions, that he had written down everything in every details. It had been a disaster. A butler had stolen it, and ran away with it. He had been stopped and killed, of course, and the book had been burnt, but the alarm had been enough to keep the transmission orally only.
Nobody guessed what the butler tried by this theft. Nobody guessed he wanted to blackmail the Zoldycks, and as every wise blackmailer, had made a copy of the book. The copy passed through time, handed by curious collectors for its beautiful leather cover, then as a curiosity, then had been damaged, lost value, and had been thrown out, and ended in a dump where everything could be thrown, and had been found by a little boy bitten by an angel, who loved old books.