Regulus Corneas was nothing more than a simple young man, living a simple life, in a simple village, within an almost-unknown country located somewhere within the land of Gusteko. He had two siblings–brothers–and two parents. His father worked, but barely made much to support the family.

His mother mostly stayed at home, taking care of the house and her children, but sometimes she would disappear to do something without telling the family. Much as he hated it, he worked miscellaneous jobs to "provide", while his brothers worked in the mines.

Regulus was the sort of person that you would see anywhere in their world. He had pure white hair, and wore a simple clothing that seemed fitting of his position in society as a working commoner. The fabric didn't look particularly fancy, and with obvious seams and stitches, it was clear that it was hand-made.

If there was anything special about Regulus, it was that he had a missing piece.

A single piece that had always been out of place for him, that single issue which outweighed anything else weighing on his mind: contradictions. The faults in the human heart which created cognitive dissonance. Things that people always refused to reconcile or remove, or so he thought.

In the life of this simple man, with seemingly not much relevance, that simple weakness within the human heart - the contradictions, that feeling of imperfection that was what made a person human–it had become an extreme issue. An issue that he was obsessed with, to the point of constantly complaining of every small, tiny imperfection that he could pursue.

Regulus wanted to be perfect. He wanted everything, but at the same time felt as if he shouldn't need to want for anything. And everything around him continued to get in his way and interfere with that pursuit. The logic of the world itself got in his way.

That unnatural desire—it was the same thing which would create the monster who would come to be known as the Archsbishop of Greed.


" —There you go, Regulus. Your pay for the day."

A bag of coins was carefully dropped into the outstretched palm of a certain young man. His eyes, which seemed to lack a certain natural spark to them, turned down to the bag. For a day's worth of here and there work by a normal person, this little was to be expected. But for him—

"Isn't this a little lacking?"

Regulus cocked his head, an annoyed sneer appearing on his face. His golden eyes gleamed with pure derision.

"Say what you want, but I've worked diligently all day, haven't I? Aren't you supposed to be paying me my just dues? Honest work should be repaid with honest payment, shouldn't it? I can't possibly do much with thi-"

"Regulus."

The voice of the owner of the work agency echoed through the empty office, adorned with nothing but simple wooden furniture. Even for Regulus, he couldn't simply continue talking through such a stern tone, annoying as it was.

"If you want to keep working with us, you're going to drop this. Understood? You're being paid the same as everyone else. It's more than enough for your work."

That voice left no room for negotiation or argument. It was the voice of assured authority - backed by the power of the coin purse that rested light in Regulus' palm. That single coin purse was like a fulcrum - a point of balance which tilted all concepts of 'power' and 'rights' towards the portly man that sat at the desk in front of Regulus.

Regulus' striking golden eyes laid on the owner for a while. Words remained to be said - complaints that should be made, arguments that he wanted to continue throwing at the man who wielded his power over Regulus so boldly and outwardly.

But Regulus had long since understood just what sort of people lived around him. An unsightly, greedy lot. This man was no doubt pocketing the majority of the money that his workers made. Regulus was absolutely sure about it. Yet, rather than come out and admit it, he only cowered in his shell called 'power', ugly and disgusting.

"—I'll remember this."

It was what he said to everyone who drew his displeasure. The words which expressed the ire he held for nearly everyone around him. They were said with the purest of hatred. The owner simply shook his head, a sign both of his exasperation, and a signal for Regulus to leave.

The young man departed through the office door of the creaky building that served as a small work agency, leaving the portly owner behind to stare at the closed door.

"I truly do pity that young man—perhaps that's why I continue to put up with that behavior."

The owner spoke to himself, as if trying to convince himself of an argument that only he knew the full context of.

He knew, as much as everyone else in the small village did, that Regulus' family was perhaps one of, if not the worst-off family in the village. Their entire family worked, but still, they just never managed to make ends meet. Some considered it a miracle that they were even still alive.

Knowing that, the owner granted Regulus a job. And while the young man did work, there was just something…off about his personality. Perhaps it could be called a residual darkness…his mere daily complaints sometimes seemed like an incomplete spell - as if he were a Spirit Arts user without any spirits to work with.

If Regulus Corneas were ever to have had a chance to back up the ridiculous beliefs he seemed to hold with any substantial action, that would be a terrifying thing, indeed. Perhaps the only reason Regulus had not turned to a life of crime was that he regarded bandits and other such criminals with the same open disgust he treated everyone else with.

That, and Regulus had no talent for combat at all. If anything, the not-so-in shape owner himself could likely defeat Regulus with ease, even in a fight to the death with weapons.

However, the owner was not afraid of Regulus. Instead, he was hoping for a different possibility. A possibility that he saw within the boy, mostly thanks to a certain someone that continued to hang around him.

"—hah. Hopefully that girl can set him straight one of these days."


"Tch…that insufferable man…to think that he would continue to steal my rightfully-earned money. It's an issue to have to work for money in the first place, but to think that even after enduring such trials, I would still be denied that which I properly earned for myself."

Still lost in delusions and fantasy of being ripped off by the owner, who was most certainly just as fair and partial as he claimed to be, Regulus wandered through the poorly paved road of the village, towards the nearby forest. His feet guided him there, as a part of a natural routine after every workday.

"And I saw that, too."

Regulus bit down on the inside of his cheek, enough to draw a small amount of blood. 'The pain wasn't his fault. It was that of the owner, who had refused to properly pay Regulus in the first place. That severe misunderstanding perpetrated by one man had forced Regulus into a self-aggrieving anger.

"That look in his eyes. That…pity."

There was nothing in this world that angered him more than that simple twinkling of emotion in another person's eyes. The pity which was so disgusting and miserable a sight that it drove him to nearly drive his feet down into the ground. If he could, he would have cracked the road into pieces, and killed the owner of the agency.

Somewhere along the way, he managed to convince himself that the man, for all his "kindness", ultimately deserved death for what were, in Regulus' eyes, an endless slew of crimes.

Unfortunately, his weak legs and body were doing no such thing. He was not one of the fancy magicians that eagerly fought in wars, nor was he a swordsman that desired to test his mettle against everything that moved. He was just a person. A single man.

Maybe, if he really wanted to, he could kill just one of these disgusting people around him. But then he'd be arrested, stripped of even more dignity than those pitiful gazes already took, and locked away. That was ridiculous.

"I won't give up what little rights I have just to rid the world of those who don't deserve to live."

As much as he hated it, even Regulus realized that without anything or anyone on his side, his words were just that – words.

Regulus did not have the power to enforce his will. That was the single string that held him back from doing anything about these feelings and thoughts swirling around in his body. Ironically, despite cursing the owner for doing what seemed like a brazen swinging about of his authority, Regulus just as much despised authority and power of his own.

This was only the beginning of the pile of contradictions that made up the inwardly rotten person that was Regulus Corneas.

While his thoughts ran away, clouded over by anger, delusion, desire, and thoughts of inadequacy, Regulus' did not notice the extra pairs of feet that could just barely be heard somewhere far behind him. Instead, he just focused on getting to his goal.

His feet finally took him to where he needed to be. There was a small pocket in the forest where the trees grew extremely densely, making it hard, nearly impossible to tell them apart from one another. The gently falling snow only helped to camouflage the trees amongst each other.

Regulus approached a certain tree - it was much more aesthetically pleasing than the others nearby. Easy on the eyes, and for him, easy to recognize, even in the snow. He reached within the trunk of the tree, and smiled with satisfaction as his hand felt a rugged set of leather holding more coins. They were cold to the touch, but that didn't matter. As long as they didn't freeze.

"Good…very good.."

Deep within the tree was a hidden stash of money and small valuables that had been collected over years. A carefully hidden secret by Regulus, it was what could be called 'insurance'. For living in a village like his, being able to save this much was tantamount to seriously creating a small personal fortune.

Regulus only had one purpose for this money - moving out of this godforsaken village, country, and kingdom, then…marrying the one who was meant to be his wife. No - the one who was already destined to be his wife.

"Speaking of, I haven't seen her today. What a shame…"

She, like this money, was one of the few things that could truly ease his temper towards this irrational and insensible world. Perhaps he might even call her one of the few 'good' people around, though she was still far from perfect in his eyes.

"She's destined to become my wife. And I am destined to leave this trash heap, and become something greater. Destiny. A reality that I will build with my own two hands."

Regulus' grandiose words weren't a simple pathetic dream. He believed in them - to the point of delusion, Regulus Corneas truly believed that the world itself would belong to him, that he should rightfully be above all of it. These two things were just the first steps towards achieving that goal.

But he needed power. He needed rights to bring those things towards him. This money represented that. This money was everything to him.

Lost in those thoughts, Regulus was suddenly disturbed by a force against his shoulder. Something rough, a hand, which grabbed hold of his shoulders, latching on and gripping tightly.

"Guh-! Now just wait a second-! Just what is the meaning of—"

"Reg…looks like we were right to follow you. Just what do you have in your hand there? Today's pay?"

"Haha…looks like you've got a secret little stash, too. C'mon, bro, to think you've been hiding this from the family for so long…"

Two slimy voices slithered into his ears. Voices which made Regulus immediately tense, as he knew all too well just who these voices belonged to.

"What are you two doing here?"

Regulus could feel his entire body shaking. Not only in immediate rage, but in response to a frustration and a…fear. A fear he was hesitant to admit. A fear he would not admit.

"Don't say it like that. We just saw our little bro headed outside the village, and got a little worried. It's getting even colder these days, you know?"

"That's right. So stop being ungrateful and let us in on the secret."

The two people whom Regulus had to call his brothers spoke in unison like always, their words closing in on Regulus like an encroaching darkness. Regulus himself could feel his body being taken over with an unbelievable rage.

'Impossible. Impossible! I should have been careful. I'm sure I was careful! So why. Why are they coming here to take away what rightfully belongs to me? Why, once more?'

Regulus' inner voice screamed in a rage that was barely being contained by his body. He turned around with force, ripping away one of his brothers' hands from his shoulders. His golden eyes shimmered with unrestrained anger, as he stared the two of them down.

They were unsightly - almost gaunt-like. It was clear that they hadn't had proper, filling meals for an extremely long time. It made it obvious at a first glance that all that earlier aggression had just been bravado.

Their appearance was not important. For people like them, he cared not. As far as he was concerned, they were just people he had been forced to endure living with: people that had been foisted upon him since birth.

"Now, listen here—why do I have to share anything with either of you? I've properly, carefully, concisely built up every inch of this money all by myself. I haven't acquired it through any illegal means, and I've even starved myself more than usual some nights to build it up! So you two have no share in this. None of it!"

While Regulus raved, waving his hands, he could see the looks in their eyes - not looks of pity, but looks of hunger. They were gazes he understood well. For their family, barely struggling to survive day-by-day in the village by pooling all of their meager incomes together, they continued to feel an almost neverending hunger.

"We know that Regulus, but, come on…"

"Yeah man, you know…we're…"

The brothers' still tried to hold on to that slightly arrogant, forceful tone.

Thinking about it, it was only natural that they were a bit forceful. They were hungry. Unbearably hungry. Maybe, to some extent, a bit of malnutrition had already started to set in for them. Regulus' brothers looked even more frail than Regulus himself and the others already did.

Memories came to Regulus of his brothers sharing their food with him, even as they, themselves starved. It only made him sneer.

'Oh, please. The reason you both are so horrible-looking is because of what you did to yourselves. Giving me your food when I never asked for it, just because you heard my stomach grumble…isn't that completely your fault?'

What Regulus didn't bother detecting was the truth behind this encounter.

Under that forcefulness, there was a hesitance in their voices, strengthened by the fact that they refused to actually take the money from him through force. They just stood there now, looking awkward and guilty. Even in their desperation, the two did not want to do something as horrible as bully their brother out of his own hard-saved money, as insufferable a person as they considered him to be.

"'We're'...what? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you just because you're begging me with saddened faces? Is that sort of thing supposed to move me? If just asking was always enough, then our own family wouldn't be this poor."

His words, which cut carelessly, indiscriminately, like a sharp blade, sliced right through the two young men. But even with that, they didn't seem too affected by it. They just considered it blunt speech, something said without real meaning, but to Regulus, it was the truth.

If Regulus were a different person, perhaps he would have differently navigated the situation, realizing the lack of reaction his brothers had to his words.

Another person may have recognized the direness of their brother's behaviors, and offered to share with them to ease their burden.

Maybe someone different would have given up on hoarding the stash of coins and small treasures, instead sharing it with the entire family.

None of these possibilities could ever be entertained. When he stared at his brothers, all he saw was the immense greed in their eyes. He registered their hunger as a continuing desire to take away what was his.

To him, it was the unsightly grovelling of incomplete, unfulfilled people, who continued wanting what he had. To him, they were just beasts that endlessly continued infringing on what was rightfully his.

So it only pleased him, when his two brothers actually got on their knees and lowered their heads to him.

"We've got it, Regulus. We didn't mean to make light of what you were saving up here, seriously. But, we're…"

"We're just so hungry. So please, we just need a little bit to get some extra bread or something else to eat. We're begging you here, as family, Reg."

Even though the ground was cold, and the air was continuing to bite at their exposed skin, Regulus' brothers practically prostrated themselves before him. That was how desperate they were to just have a little bit from the stash that he was hiding.

"Family…"

'Family? Ha, don't make me joke. These two have always been lusting after what is mine. But, I'm not unreasonable. Of course, someone like me would never be that petty.'

The two brothers would never be able to see it, but a large smile spread across the face of Regulus. A smile that looked like it had been artificially pulled up, unnatural, lacking any real joy, only a pure satisfaction…

"That's right…that's the way. That's how you should've answered me from the beginning. Fine. I'll give you something…but it won't be free. You'll have to pay me back, with interest. It's only natural, right? I'm giving you something of mine out of the kindness of my heart. So, even if I'm not expecting anything in return, which I wouldn't be, as someone who's extremely kind, you should be willing to prepare a suitable compensation to give as thanks, right?"

Regulus tossed a few coins towards his brothers. It was more than enough to get some extra bread to fill their stomachs.

"O-Of course!"

"Yeah man, yeah, there's no problem!"

The two's eyes widened as they stood up and grabbed the coins that had fell at their feet, scrambling for them like beggars. They hadn't thought twice about agreeing, the hunger itself enough to overwhelm whatever pride or resistance they might have had.

"A-Alright…alright! Let's go, man!"

"W-We'll see you at home, Reg!"

The two people that Regulus called his 'brothers' ran off with idiotically wide smiles on their faces. The sight alone was enough to make Regulus nauseous.

'To think they would come here and smile after stealing away my money…they practically forced me to give it to them! But, that's fine. If they don't pay me back, there will be hell to pay. I hope they're aware of that. I am a reasonable man, but…I could never forget such a slight against me.'

Regulus took the pouches out and changed them to a different tree. He was at least aware enough to do that much. Frankly, the entire encounter had annoyed him. He only decided to give them a second chance after they properly begged for what they needed, and once he knew he would get something in return, as he always should.

He didn't derive warmth from familial bonds. Close, happy relationships wouldn't make his day any better, or fill his stomach more. Giving for nothing would not get him out of this incompetently run village and country.

He needed more substantial things. He needed to perfect himself. So that one day, he could fully separate himself from the ugly Greed that ruled over these lesser people.

With his business done in the forest, Regulus headed back to the village.


The village really was a shabby place. Some houses looked better than others, but in the end, it was a small village, in a small country, far away from the capital of the Kingdom of Gusteko.

It was not located in the war-torn lands of Vollachia, nor was it within the middling, bandit and mabeast-filled areas of Lugunica, but it was a poor and unfortunate village located in the most desolate, barren kingdom.

The people all around were dressed in shabby clothing, either meant for work or exclusively for staying inside and keeping as warm as possible. Barely anyone was seen around trying to talk to each other. Still, even all of these people…were better of than Regulus and his family.

While walking through the street, Regulus could feel the eyes on his body as he passed by. He could hear the whispers and voices like they were right next to his ears.

"Isn't he from that…?"

"They truly are a sad family…"

"It's a wonder they're even still alive…"

Words carelessly said, words Regulus could not help but despise from the bottomost depths of his soul. He had endured these sorts of whispers his entire life, and yet, even now, they continued as if there was nothing else to be concerned of.

He had grown sick of the gossip, the disgust, the curiosity…the pity. Were he able to, he would just wipe everything away. Leaving eventually was just his second best option.

"-hEY! R-Reg..! Regulus! Son! You…doin'...doin' alright?"

Passing by the village's pub, Regulus saw a familiar man momentarily. The man looked like Regulus, hair light gray instead of white, and had a hand reaching out for Regulus as he passed by. He had a mug of some cheap and foul-smelling swill in his hands, and even in the briefest of moments, it could be smelled, too.

Were it anyone else, perhaps Regulus would have had many words to give them. But for this man, Regulus just ignored him, passing by without a single word.

"H-Huh? Regul-regulus?!"

The man stumbled over himself, spilling his drink over the road. Regulus found himself sneering at the pathetic sight.

'It's amazing that man even dares to call himself a father when that's all he can do. Really, even those disgusting villagers can parent their children better than that.'

If Regulus refused to acknowledge his brothers, he refused to acknowledge his father even more. The man barely worked, and yet he spent all day, every week, drinking. Especially after Regulus and his brothers had become capable of working, the man cared less and less about actually finding a job to support his family.

Regulus didn't care to understand that his father was becoming older, and less capable of working the tough mining job that he used to. He didn't care to see that the alcohol was just the way the older man decided to cope.

And he certainly didn't care for the meager presents his father bought him every now and then, as if meant to be displayed as a worthless apology for his actions.

Regulus found himself walking away with increased speed, his feet practically digging into the path under his heel.

"Regulus?"

And in an instant, he found himself suddenly coming to a stop. A soft voice, melodious, entered his ears. He looked - actually looked - ahead of himself, and saw the one person in this entire village that he was glad to see.

"Ah…Melodia."

She had hair that looked bluer than the clearest rivers, silver eyes that were more reflective than any sort of jewlery that he had seen, and a…frankly, a beautiful smile. It was dazzling, even.

"Sorry to interrupt you. You just didn't look so well, Regulus. Like something set you off into one of those 'moods' again."

The kindness in her voice and her smile was enough to set any worries that Regulus had at ease. It was the mysterious power that this girl had over him. And funny enough, he didn't even mind it, oddly enough.

"No, it's fine. The things troubling me aren't even worth thinking about, especially when you're here, in my presence."

Melodia laughed, blushing a little bit at the overly forward way of speaking. Even in her shyness, Regulus couldn't help but find her perfectly charming.

"Don't say stuff like that so easily…a-anyways, I was actually on my way to go see your mother! I wanted to help her cook…I figured I could share some of the fish that my family managed to catch today."

"Again? You should know better than that. That woman—my mother, she gets far too carried away when you're there. She's already only good for complaining, and then she dares to try and talk your ears off—"

"Okay, okay, it's fine, Regulus."

Melodia waved away Regulus' rants like always, with her beautiful voice, and a single gesture of her hands. Any further argument that was building up in Regulus' throat just disappeared just like that.

"Focus less on your mother, and more about how delicious I'm going to make this food taste for you guys, alright?"

"...yes."

She was perhaps the one person in the village that could easily and properly control Regulus—not with any displays of force or authority, but just by being herself.

"By the way, I saw your brothers earlier! It looked like they managed to get some extra money to buy a little bit of bread! I'm sure that'll go well with the fish. Maybe I'll even see if your mother and I can make a fish soup—"

Still, that control hadn't really changed who Regulus was at the deepest parts of his heart. That part of him had already long-settled. No, all Regulus thought of while he watched Melodia walking beside him, listening to her words intently, was:

'Hopefully, one day, I can well and truly make you mine, and only mine. If only that day could be today.'


It was after a surprisingly smooth dinner. Regulus' brothers had left the house, and Melodia had gone off somewhere, too. At times like these, Regulus would have preferred to slip away. But, being the unfortunate one left behind in the home, Regulus had instead been sentenced to a different role.

"-could you believe him? Getting dropdead drunk off at the bar again? I swear to Od Lagna, that man…I can't believe I married him. He just wasn't that worthless back then. How can little Melodia bring more to our family's table than a working man? The snow's only going to get worse soon enough. Goodness gracious."

Regulus' mother, while putting away the dishes used for their dinner, spoke in a voice that was filled with a bottomless misery, anger, and deep dissatisfaction. Regulus didn't bother to hide the annoyance on his face, while she just rattled on however she pleased.

"Hm?" Regulus' mother turned around, facing her son with narrowed eyes. "-and what's with that look, huh? Staring down your mother like some sort of common thug? Were you even properly listening to your mother?"

Regulus could feel something snapping. He usually was able to withstand mostly everything by staying away from these people, minding his own business, enjoying the finer pleasures in life, like his time with Melodia.

But today had been a true test of his patience. His brothers came to beg money from him for food to fill their worthless stomachs. His father had reached out to him in a drunken stupor, holding some sort of pained, self-deprecating expression on his face. His mother was complaining to him even more about things he couldn't - wouldn't care about fixing.

"Listening? I've listened for far too long. A common thug, you say? Ha! Then, maybe I should be one. At least that means I would be taken seriously by you people, instead of constantly being treated like a joke!"

Regulus' mother was shocked into stunned silence. She knew well that her son was always…a special type of boy. But she had never seen this level of outright hatred in his eyes.

"-!"

The woman jumped in surprise as the dining room table suddenly fell over. Regulus had kicked the wooden table, his golden eyes narrowed in an unstoppable anger.

No, his eyes were golden, but Regulus Corneas was seeing nothing but red.

"And you call yourself my 'mother'?! Just what have you done to claim that sort of title-? When were you ever given that right by me?! No, all of you?! Father, my brothers, just what the hell did any of you do to deserve being called 'family'?!"

Regulus waved his hands, desperate to empty out his rage somehow. Meanwhile, his mother could not respond, completely and helplessly frozen in place while watching her son rant and rave. No, anyone watching that scene would not be able to respond.

It wasn't a secret that their family was poor. They didn't always get along well. In the cold lands of Gusteko, where the average temperature was enough to ensure that even the dirt roads remained frozen year-round, poverty was almost equal to death.

Yet their family survived. Surely, with a bit of luck, but also through effort.

Regulus' mother often took side jobs assisting other households with menial tasks for small amounts of coin. She also took care of their home, and made sure that they all continued to eat proper meals, despite the little that they could work with.

His two brothers relentlessly worked in the mines, ignoring their own health and poor conditions to bring back money. Those same two brothers would even give Regulus some of their own food when possible, showing him kind smiles despite their frail bodies.

Even Regulus' father, the worthless drunk that he was, made sure to work enough to contribute the most out of them, even buying small presents for the family every now and then. When he was sober, he just went right back to work, dedicating himself to a never-ending cycle that must have been extremely tough on him–tough enough for him to continue drinking.

Regulus lazed around after barely working short temporary jobs. Regulus built up his own money while ignoring the hardships his family went through. Regulus complained about pay, when it was a blessing that he had even found somewhere to work at all.

This same Regulus despised his family. He only heard his mother's complaints. He only saw his brothers taking from him, and then showing worthless pity as an apology. He only saw his father as a useless drunkard that barely brought anything back for the house.

Regulus Corneas, to the very core, was a man who could only see the fault of others, yet utterly ignored his own. He was the ignorance of a self-centered human mind, personified.

And the worst part, was that he could never possibly consider himself being wrong.

"What–what are you saying, Regulus?!"

His mother tore herself from the stupor that she had been in. Her eyes filled with hot, prickling tears, and her heart ached with an emotion she couldn't quite place. More than any pain of hunger, worry for the future—pure despair and sadness filled her heart at hearing her son's endless verbal abuse.

Regulus stared at her with an annoyance in his eyes that was so palpable, it may as well have been like a gas, filling the air, choking the woman who continued to look at her son with compassion that she now knew he would never return.

"I–we've all worked so hard to stand here together! I…I am sorry. I really am sorry that I say so much to you so often but–you should understand. I…just like everyone else, your mother is only human. I'm not perfect. Nobody is perfect. Not…not even you."

Regulus cocked his head, his body shaking. If he had been seeing red before, then Regulus was now not even seeing anything. He could not see the care and compassion in his mother's eyes. His ears didn't register the crackling of the warm fireplace that lit the dining room. The meal in his stomach that had been so lovingly prepared may as well have not been there.

Even if he could recognize those things, none of them would have changed his next action.

His hand reached out for something.

"You–!"

He ended up grabbing one of the fallen chairs. It was still holding together, but it was clearly fragile. A strong force would be enough to splinter it into pieces.

"Yooooooooou–!"

Regulus picked up the chair. And the scenery that was his home vanished in an instant.


Regulus found himself trudging away from town, towards the forest. His clothes were beginning to be covered by hints of snow. But Regulus could not feel the cold.

Instead, he felt the warmth of the red spots that now stained his clothing. It spread in small circles across the fabric, like it had been violently splattered all over his clothing without care or regard.

In his hands, which he had taken so much care to keep pure and unstained, were splinters. Splinters embedded into his skin, painful and red. Even so, he gripped tightly onto a broken piece of wood, which was dripping with the same red liquid that now stained his clothing.

The clothing his mother had so carefully made for him.

–the poor quality fabric-scrap that woman had dared to force on him.

"-at least she's dead now."

Those words pleased him. It pleased him enough to bring an unnatural, satisfied smile to his face.

She was dead. The woman who had given birth to him, raised him, and annoyed him to no end with her worthless complaints and useless drivel. It was the first time that Regulus had killed someone, but he realized now that it was a step that should have been taken a long time ago.

Despite feeling satisfaction with his actions, his innate curiosity drove him to consider a question:

When this had even started? From what time had he become so incensed with the people around him?

From childhood, he remembered being annoyed by other people. He was always surrounded by those with obvious shortcomings.

His alcoholic, unreliable father.

His complaining, annoying mother.

His greedy, useless brothers.

But most of all, yes, most of all, he hated those townspeople. The people who looked down on him with nothing but pure pity in their eyes. Pity that their words only echoed and strengthened.

He hated it. He hated all of them. Endlessly infringing upon his rights as a human being.

"Who gave you the right to look down on me? Who said that I needed your pity? Who said that I needed any of you?!"

His shouting went nowhere, muted by the snow that had begun falling a little while ago.

Sure, he starved. But he had never asked anyone to give him food. Sure, he needed money to escape, but he didn't need someone's worthless considerations to give him a job out of shallow sympathy.

Regulus Corneas understood now - because he was always lacking so much, he wanted even more. But he refused to call this feeling 'greed'.

Regulus Corneas just wanted to be perfect. He wanted everything in this world–and he wanted to show the countless, worthless other people that he did not need them. Least of all, he did not need their pity.

That was when he found it.

For a moment, his racing thoughts, the pain in his hand, any of those useless thoughts fell from his mind among the piling snow.

In front of him sat a plain black book. It had some sort of pattern on the front that he had never seen before, but at the same time, it felt so…familiar. Beside the book was a small black container, the likes of which would usually be seen holding some sort of fancy jewelry.

Both had been utterly untouched by the snow that was falling around them. Even now that the snowfall was coming down harder and harder, there was an untouched square of dirt that the two items sat within.

Regulus looked around – but his golden eyes caught sight of nothing but trees and snow. There were no footprints either. It indicated an eerie thought that these items had somehow just appeared here–popping into existence for no good reason.

Naturally, Regulus knew about curses and magic, but he was no scholar. His thoughts and knowledge on the subject didn't run deeper than any average person's. Still, even with that rudimentary level of understanding, Regulus could tell - these items did not belong in either category.

They existed in a world - in a classification of their own. Unaffected by anything outside the world, untouched by anything outside the world, unseen, except only for his eyes.

They appeared here, in front of him, at this exact moment. With no reasoning or explanation.

The average person would have felt fear.

Regulus Corneas felt an immense, unspeakable joy.

There was no doubt in his heart that within these items - the secrets to the perfection that he had been so desperately seeking would be found.

He tossed the broken chair leg to the side, ignoring the mixture of his and his mother's blood that splattered into the snow. His eyes almost frenzied, he kneeled, unable to feel the blazing cold biting at his knees and legs. His hands slowly, tenderly reached out to the black box first.

He brought it closer towards him, and opened it-

Within that box was – something. A coiled, dark, black something, which he could not describe, yet his mind still attempted to, regardless. That feeling of complete foreigness – it felt even stronger when looking at this odd item, which pulsated and moved as if it had a will and mind of its' own.

It was disgusting. It did not belong in their world. It was a nightmarish thing, which no sane person should even attempt to look at and comprehend—

"It's absolutely beautiful."

It was the first time Regulus had said that about anything in his life, besides his childhood friend, Melodia.

As he stared at the incomprehensible anomaly, he recognized it as his missing half. It only made sense–to make himself perfect, he would have naturally needed to take hold of something outside of this imperfect world's grasp.

Instinctively, he pressed it against his chest–

"Hnng!"

–and felt something vile slip into his soul.

It wrapped around his heart - around his mind - around his body - around everything, both taking and granting an immense protection that couldn't be matched by anything else.

He was sure that, were it somebody else, they might experience an immense drawback for attempting to take such unnatural power into themselves - but for Regulus, this feeling was just what he had been looking for his entire life. The missing half that should have always belonged to him.

Regulus would not realize that his compatibility with this power, in part, was due to his own twisted and vile nature. And why should he? Now, he had well and truly become the perfect being that he was seeking to be this whole time. No…he had already been perfect, it was just that he was missing the full extent of his potential.

Uncaring for the contradiction in that thought, eventually, it settled in his heart.

Regulus already knew what it was.

"My…authority."

The Authority of Greed.

He had never heard of a power such as an 'Authority' before. Nor did he know much, or care what relation 'Greed' had to it. All that he cared about was that this power now fully belonged to him.

Without thinking any further, his hand darted out, grasping the black book that had lay on the ground. The book that he was sure belonged to him. He slowly opened that book, his eyes widening as he took in the finely-written script that only he could understand.

"Ha…"

Regulus laughed, tilting his head back.

"Hahaha…"

He laughed again.

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

And again. And again. And again. And again.

Until finally, he felt himself run out of breath. He looked down at the ground, a wide grin finally settling on his face.

"As I thought, this power really did make its' way to me. To me, Regulus Corneas…"

He slowly stood from where he was kneeling down. And then, he activated his Authority.

Badump.

He felt a hefty pain in his chest. His breath was taken away forcefully, and it felt like his entire body had frozen up.

At the same time, the wooden splinters that had been embedded into his hand were forcefully ejected, shot out like they were hit by an infinitely strong gale. They tore through the trees as they flew into the forest, destroying a large portion at once.

The blood that had been flowing out of his wound ceased. Every bit of grime, sweat, and imperfection across his body disappeared at once, flecked off in disgust.

His body didn't reconstruct itself. His wound didn't heal.

That was not the true nature of the Authority granted to him. No, he didn't quite have the full grasp of his power, and that presented a problem.

According to that book, the book which had become his destiny, he needn't do anything but fulfill his own desires - as his desires happened to coincide with the book's writing.

He needed to destroy this worthless country. But how could he do that when his imperfect ability was leaving him barely with breath everytime he used it?

It was annoying. Irritating. If he was going to be granted semi-perfection like this, then it would have been better not to have it at all. That was what he truly believed from the depths of his heart.

Still, if there was some way to foist this burden off on another…then he would seriously be able to consider the book's writing. Regulus frowned. He what he needed to do, finally, but found himself unable to fulfill the requirements for doing so.

"-Regulus! Are you okay?! I came back to your house and I saw your mother and the blood and-"

That was, until he heard her sweet, melodious voice behind him. He smiled, slowly turning to face her, while tucking the small black book into his clothing.

"Melodia."

He addressed her with a voice that was somehow colder than before. His ability ran out, while he stared into her eyes. She was frozen in place.

Now that he had become perfect, Regulus found himself seeing her flaws more easily. The terror that was slowly developing in her eyes was unflattering. The way she shivered hid the true beauty of her usually upright figure. The snow she was allowing to fall on her hid the vibrancy of her skin and hair.

"What…What happened here, Regulus…?"

All of those things could be fixed later.

For now–

"Forget the small issues. What's important right now is that I have something to say to you, Melodia. After I'm finished here, that is. Ah- and don't bring up that woman in front of me again. It's going to be important that you learn to listen to me more, considering the life that we're going to be living together now."

Regulus could feel her gaze on his back while he moved forward, towards the village. A while back, when he was still incomplete, that look had been able to move him. Because Melodia, while beautiful, was a little bit of a headstrong girl.

Now, he hadn't even spared her a look back.

The village that Regulus Corneas lived in was at the border of his country. That meant, conveniently, that everything in front of him and Melodia was utterly worthless. It really was a good thing that she came here.

Of course, her life was immensely important to him. Even before gaining this ability, he had already considered her his. A piece of his property, just like those coins he had stashed away in the tree. Unlike those coins which were now meaningless, however, she still needed to be by his side.

He still had a use for her.

He took a deep breath and activated his ability. The immense physical burden on his heart was no longer felt. No, within the center of his chest, nothing could be felt at all.

Yes…he had shifted his own heart outside of his body. A bewildering concept, but the impossible became possible with this power welling up inside of his chest. And with his heart no longer within his body…he could effortlessly wield the power that had now become his.

He leaned down, grabbed two fistfuls of snow off of the ground, and tossed them through the air.

Just like the splinters that had been ejected from his hands, they tore through the air at immeasurable speeds, unable and unwilling to be stopped by anything. Unaffected by any outside influence, they continued and continued, ripping the village to shreds in but a single move.

"U-uuuuh…w-what? What?"

Melodia fell backwards into the snow. Her entire body was now trembling after that ridiculous sight. After seeing Regulus destroy their entire village in what was a simple wave of his hand. No–this was not Regulus. It couldn't be him. This was–

"Ah…"

Regulus let out an exhale, relaxing with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Seeing that ugly place destroyed is such a relief. Finally. It feels like my mind and soul are being cleansed. But…too many buildings are still standing. There might still be some unsightly worms, struggling around for survival. If I'm going to pursue perfection, I should do my due diligence. I suppose…one night. Yes, one night is all I need."

Then Regulus kicked.

Again, that hellish scene repeated, sending a missile of snow sailing through the air faster than the speed of sound. It further destroyed the village, tearing apart what remaining buildings were still there.

But Regulus didn't stop. He kicked one more time. Then again. And again. And again.

Time began to pass…


He kicked. And he breathed. And he swiped his hand. The snowfall that always fell in the land of Gusteko became a hell for the country that had housed his village.

Forcing Melodia to move with him, selfishly calling her his wife, Regulus Corneas proceeded through the entirety of the country, with perfect destruction at his back.

Then, after what was just a single day, the perfect destruction of an entire country was accomplished. Without a single ounce of guilt or hesitation, Regulus erased his birth country and village from the map.

Once the destruction was finished, he stood in the midst of what had once been the capital. He let out a small breath - not that he truly needed air anymore. Melodia stood a distance behind him, her eyes closed in learned deference. No, perhaps she had just decided it was best to shut her mouth and remain quiet, holding in all her despair, fear, and anger.

A normal person in a normal situation would have already broken down or exploded. But in the face of the impossible power that Regulus held, Melodia shut all of those feelings down. Instinctively, she knew that she would not live if she tried to argue or fight.

She had just been a normal girl. She had been eating dinner with her childhood friend's family. She had her own dreams and belief and happiness. And…whatever Regulus had finally turned himself into, just erased it all with a swipe and a kick.

"Ahh…"

Regulus admired the nothingness that remained of the place that had annoyed him for so long.

Having massacred his fellow countrymen, killed his and Melodia's families, and destroyed any remnant of any place that had been in their memorie, Regulus only had one thing to say to Melodia. Though, it was more of a statement than a true question.

"Shall I go and find some more wives?"


Destiny here. Consider this a warmup exercise for more Re:Zero.