The clanging of weapons rang out in a blood-red desert. A boy about 1.75m tall panted as he clashed swords with a 2m tall construct made of darkness. The construct wielded a steel halbert in one hand and in the other was an iridescent glow.

The construct's hand accelerated towards the boy's body, which was riddled with numerous cuts and slashes, the hand cleanly landed on his chest causing his body to be covered in an iridescent glow that faintly took the form of chains.

The boy had tried to dodge with all his might but his tired body was unable to. The boy fell to the floor his hand digging into the scarlet sand. The black construct raised its halbert into the air and swung down like an executioner, the axe-head beheaded the boy in one fell swoop. Blood spurted from his neck like a fountain, the blood dyed the sand a deeper red.

A flash of light emitted from the headless body causing the construct to reel back. The flash disappeared as fast as it had come, the boy's body and detached head had vanished into thin air. The construct's glowing blue eyes disappeared, its dark metal body slumped forward.

A few hundred meters to the South a burst of light came and brought along with it a headless body and its detached head. The faint iridescent chains constricting the body faded away. The body lifted itself off the sandy ground and sat upright.

A mask strapped to its right arm started to vibrate furiously; the detached head started to break down into pitch-black particles which flowed into the mask. Soon the head had all-together dematerialized.

A stream of black particles flowed from the mask and formed a shell around the body's headless neck, with the shell resembling the boy's lost head.

The black sun beating down on the crimson sand fell past the dunes on the horizon and disappeared out of sight leaving behind an empty dark sky filled with no stars nor hope. This cycle repeated itself two more times as the boy sat on the ground idly.

Three days had passed since the time of his beheading before he finally stood up. The midnight black shell cracked apart to reveal a new head connected to his neck. He lazily stretched his neck as though it had gotten stiff after a long day of work.

He scoured his surroundings and sighed. It was the same point he always got transported to. In fact, he wondered to himself why he thought the scenery would change; he had been here for so long yet not once did he find himself elsewhere. A wave of nostalgia rushed over him as he remembered the day he awoke in this hell-hole - it was still so vivid in his mind.

He had felt the sun beating harshly down on him. The coarse grains of scarlet sand grinding against his bare back and a spitting headache reverberating through his head. He pushed off the ground with one hand, the other gripped his head. He rustled through his ashen hair causing bits of red sand to come tumbling down.

He absent-mindedly looked at the rough scarlet sand, his mind began to wander before it asked itself, "Where am I? Who am I?" His face contorted into an expression of confusion though he quickly recollected himself, "Leo… was that my name? Leo… Leo… Leo…" Leo repeated his name a dozen times as though it was a calming sutra.

[Test Zero has suffered memory loss. The touch of the Styx doesn't seem to be very significant. Phase 1b, reset point, successful.]

Eventually, his interest in saying his own name over and over again dwindled, he focused his attention elsewhere, or to be more specific, on his surroundings.

In all directions, as far as his eyes could see was a sea of scarlet. Gargantuan hunks of metal pierced into the ground, their overall shape resembling misshapen weapons. With the blades of the weapons being coated in reddish rust and their sharp edges having been eroded by showers of sand picked up by the wind.

Leo could make out something slumping against one of the humungous 30m tall claymores in the distance, it glinted an ivory sheen making it stand out against the sea of scarlet.

He squinted his eyes in an effort to figure out what it was. Luckily for him, the ivory figure was just as massive as the claymore it was leaning against; Leo squinted for only a minute before he was able to make out what it was… It was a titan's skeleton.

The two curved ram-like horns jutting out from its forehead coupled with its colossal size were obvious indicators of its origin. Leo had read about them in fairy tales and history books in the library of the… In the library of what? Leo steered off-topic leading him to a gap in his memory.

While unable to answer the mysteries of his lost memories, Leo was distracted by something else in the distance; giant grey rings half embedded in the sand. Even from afar, Leo was able to identify a black haze extruding from the rings - he made a mental note to veer towards them first.

Leo fixed his attention back onto the dunes of red which were extending all the way into the horizon where they met the sky. The sky was singed a fiery red as though the air was burning and the sun was plastered dead above his head; each and every ray beating down on his skin like a hammer.

The sun was in an eclipsed state, the corona flared as if it was trying to remind this barren world the sun still existed even if it was eclipsed by the moon.

Leo took in a sharp breath. This wasn't the world he knew, where was he? The breath of arid air sucked the moisture out of his throat making his dry throat even more parched. A gentle breeze drifted past him causing him to awaken from his stupor.

Leo paced about for a few steps contemplating on what to do next, soon he marched forward towards the closest ring. Leo firmly dug his foot into the ground with each step, but to his dismay, he stepped on something loose causing his sense of balance to wane and his head to plant face-first into the scarlet sand.

Leo scrutinized the sand near his feet for what had tripped him. Without much effort, he was quickly able to ascertain the object as it stood out against sand much like the giant's skeleton.

It was a mask with two ram-like horns protruding out from its temple. It had six eyes, 3 on the left and 3 on the right, and was ashen in colour; a crack ran from the bottom of the mask to the top hinting at it having gone through hard times.

A sudden bout of memories rushed to the top of his head kindling his knowledge of the events that had last happened. He recalled his experience of killing the three-eyed bear, then the arduous escape from the pack of greenhounds, after that was running into the man-made cave with the mask on the wall.

The same mask that obliterated the greenhounds chasing him… the same mask that carved a magic circle into his chest… the same mask that had both saved him from untold suffering and caused him mind-numbing anguish… The same mask that called itself… Sloth. Sloth the Undying.

[Memories returning quite fast. The touch of the Styx doesn't seem to be very effective against the young ones. Perhaps, it was his anger that served as a catalyst for the return of his memories.]

Leo seethed with anger the second he remembered the name, he furiously stomped his foot into the sand and started to spout colourful phrases and make distinct gestures with his hand pointing them at no one in particular. The echoes of his vulgarities reverberated throughout the plain.

Leo nodded his head proudly, a burden had been lifted off his chest; if those know-it-all killjoy priests had heard him they would've… they would've what? In fact, what know-it-all killjoy priests was he talking about? His fractured memories were unable to answer his question.

[Distant memories seem to take longer to retrieve. Memory packets might be a good solution to this problem.]

With his bout of anger out of the way, Leo reached over and picked up Sloth's mask, to his surprise, nestled in the sand alongside the mask were two thick books bound in midnight leather. He recognized them as the books Sloth had pulled out of thin air. Leo's curiosity piqued. Sloth had gushed about them being the 'best mana art and battle arts' he'd ever find.

He wiped away the layer of sand on top of one of the books, embroidered in gold was the title 'Essence of Void', and opened it to the first page. On the first page were a few illustrations and an explanation of the basis of strength, "Anyone and anything can channel mana in specific ways to get stronger." It read.

It then continued "This book contains an illustrious, grandiose mana art of the void element specifically tailored towards my successor. This, of course, was written by the great and gracious me, as such, it is the very best."

The rest of the page was written in undecipherable text.

Leo rolled his eyes at Sloth's prideful embellishment; he could feel the irony dripping from the last line. In his opinion, Sloth was much more prideful than lazy.

"Would that mean the bearer of pride will be more lazy than prideful? That would be an interesting twist," Leo mumbled, but soon he came back to the matter at hand.

Leo flipped over to the next page, unfortunately for him, he was unable to understand most of the instructions for the mana art, and a large majority of the text was written in the same undecipherable text. The text he could read, he couldn't understand. He had never been taught how to read and use mana arts; he had only been taught orally on how to circulate his mana through trial and error - a method referred to as unstructured cultivation.

However, a glimmer of hope shone through like a beacon, the book had… illustrations. The visual aid was immensely useful in figuring out what the book had wanted to do.

Leo took a quick cursory look at each step reaching all the way to 3rd circle where there was a peculiarity. The pages containing the mana art for the realms beyond the 3rd circle had been blank! And the latter half of the pages had been ripped!

As he could not glean any more knowledge out of this book, Leo brushed away the layer of sand on the second book whose golden title was 'Essence of Sloth'.

Leo was getting the impression Sloth may not have been the most creative namer. Leo opened the book and read aloud the contents, "Spells are a manifestation of mana. Most spells use an element as a catalyst but they are rooted in iridescence - the base state of mana, non-elemental energy. Everyone is limited in the kind of elements they can command, this is called their affinity. You are restricted to the element of void." It stated matter of factly.

[A half-truth. Now that he has been tainted by lightning, he will be cursed by it. He will be shackled by his duality. My preparations for him are now rendered imperfect.]

Leo looked over at the next page. This time he was actually able to understand what it wanted him to do. There was no technical mumbo-jumbo allowing Leo to easily grasp the basic form of the battle art. To be more accurate, it was a loose collection of information in the form of images that told him how to maximise the strength of his punches and kicks - the building blocks of a fighting form.

However, Leo was slightly puzzled; the opening paragraph had zero connections to what was being taught.

He inquisitively scanned through the next few pages and surely enough, it started combining the kicks and punches with mana in ways he couldn't understand. However, the book hadn't introduced a single spell.

Leo sighed, Sloth was truly unreliable. He would have tried to do it by trial and error but he had read of the adverse side effects of fumbling about with no direction and he wasn't going to risk it.

Leo tore off a strip of fabric from his trousers and threaded it through the eye sockets of the mask which allowed him to securely tie it to his right arm. He stared at the books, they were too big to fit in his pockets or comfortably slot in between his trousers and underwear - he thought for a moment before ripping off another piece of fabric from his trousers. He secured the heavy books to his leg.

Suddenly, it hit him; why was he taking the mask with him? It just felt natural to do so - as though he was attracted to it by some mystical force - but now that he thought about it, why was he taking the mask? His mind couldn't fathom an answer yet he still couldn't put down the mask - it would feel wrong to do so. In the end, he made his mind up and brought the mask along with him with no rhyme or reason.

His preparations were done, 'there is no more point in idling about,' he told himself. He once again started his journey to the closest giant ring. He could tell it was going to be a long journey, but hopefully, it would be the key to leaving these strange lands.