The shrill sound of metal clashing, reverberations in the air. Chilling gales of the winter blowing past every strike. Cries amidst the forsaken lands, like madmen who fight only for themselves.

Gunfire and screams, disorderly shouts and the disturbing sounds of flesh tearing. A melodious cacophony which seemed to overlap the constant ringing in one’s ears. The true battlefield was such a place, where talks of peace were nothing more than the fragments of one’s imagination. Surely, there would no longer be men disillusioned by the false stability of their own countries who had sent them here. To this wretched place where humans were nothing more than ragdolls after taking a couple of stabs through their bodies. No one really knew what the other thought, but alas, the bloodied wastelands were the only proof required to reveal the muddy insanity, hidden within the hearts of men.

Riddled with darkness, flickering in between a state of battle mania was a young boy with his left eye shut tightly, irritated by the blood flowing down from his head. He was in a state of combat, just like the men around him, thus his eyes merely settled upon his current opponent, yet he was still perceptive of any possible flanks. Such a pair of trained eyes, those belonged to a yet-grown child with the scent of death clinging onto the back of his shoulders. Those eyes were cold and lifeless, yet they seemed to harbor a spark of anger, something that kept him from being torn apart by the superiority of his enemies bigger than him.

Clash. Another high-pitched frequency brought out from a single worn out dagger the boy had pocketed from a dead personnel nearby. It was one of the standard-issued ones from the army, thus he was rather familiar with it. However, it seemed that the quality of the metal used for it was about to wear out by every swing of the opponent’s two-handed sword. As another collision occurred, it would seem that both of them were already aware of the difference in weapon durability, and individual skill. A cruel smile was lifted on the man’s face, his face was obscured by a strange blur; like a recollection that seemed to be distant in years, the boy could not remember his face at all, nor the events following the last greeting of metal against metal.

Thump. Thump. Thump. His heart beat furiously according to the rhythm of the battle, but the memories of that battle were slowly fading away. Was he about to wake up from the other side? His black hair dirtied by the soot from the warfare began to change in color. At first glance, it seemed as if his head was lighted up by some kind of magic, but it was merely a visual misinterpretation. His hair was turning white at a noticeable pace, but nobody except the opponent before him had noticed such a change. Not even the boy himself had realized it.

Shiiiing. A powerful strike had broken the dagger into two, it was a miracle that it had lasted for this long in the first place. The broken edge stabbed onto the soiled ground nearby. The boy seemed to stop his movement for a brief second, looking at the broken dagger emotionlessly. He had no more weapons in his arsenal. There were nothing around him left to plunder and use. His head lifted itself slightly to match the blade coming down to cut him in half.

And then the boy felt a sudden warmness enveloping him, traces of life returned into his hollow eyes. It was a subtly gentle sensation, like his body was being hugged tightly. His bloodied face were covered by another hand which cleansed the dirt away, masking the visage of death with white.

....The roll of film nicked off at the most crucial moment, resurfacing the boy from the frozen time.

This boy was a man called Perun in the present.

The man opened his eyes slowly.

Left hand moving over to the top of his head where he thought would be severed, the vestiges of the war like a flickering flame. This was a phantom wound.

What he dreamt of, was a recurring nightmare of that time. His opponent at that time, wore the uniform of a general on the opposing faction, wielding that pitch black sword, it’s dark frame reflecting no light. These were all in the past.

Perun’s own broken dagger as well, with its cracked pieces left suspended in the air, captured at that single frame in time, completely encapsulated in his memory.

He was just 12 at that time, gaining the powers that made him a famous war hero. But now, he was but a shadow of his former glory. He was now the guildmaster, and proper father for his children. It wasn't as if the man did not feel bad about having lost his powers as he grew older, but he was also satisfied with his current life.

Perun was now a husband to a beautiful wife and his six daughters. He was no longer the bloodythirsty killer that he once was.

Hoping to raise his adopted children in a better and different environment than his, Perun did not reveal the existence of the Dark Guild he had created after retirement, to his new family. Since he merely filled the role as the guildmaster, Perun handled purely paperwork without seeing bloodshed for the rest of his life. Additionally, the paperwork had terms obscure to people unfamiliar with the underworld to eliminate any potential of his participation in the dirty work. His daughters would only see them as nothing more than ordinary files for an accountant. Occasionally, Perun would also sneak out and oversee the work of his underlings in secret.

He was a guildmaster after all.

Rubbing his scruffy white hair with one hand, Perun frowned from the displeasing feeling lingering in his body. It was an inpurity that weakened his vitality every time he had the same nightmare.

The nightmare that he had left on the battlefield 28 years ago, the one dream that happened irregularly in his peaceful life.

He could feel his body sticky with sweat just thinking about it.

Perun turned to look at the window outside to shake off the ominous thoughts, remaining still and dazed from what he had seen in his dreams. After basking his naked body under the sun for a bit, Perun felt himself getting a little better.

"...Fuahh..."

He yawned weakly. There were a few scars etched on around his toned body, signs of his violent past.

Ever since the fateful meteorite had struck the surface on Earth, Perun had became the progenitor of the awakened humans, more commonly known as 'meta-humans'. That was the cause of 'mana' created from the veins within the meteorite, giving birth to a world identical to that of true fantasy and magic.

The man was rather drained of strength even for a 41-year old, yet Perun's youthful face didn’t seem to look his age at all due to the side-effect of his pinnacle-grade 'magic' flowing within his body. That was because of mana, a new kind of element that created phenomenons that went beyond the limitations of physics.

While it was true that Perun possessed overwhelmingly pure mana, the quantity was disappearing and getting smaller day by day. The cause of his weakening powers were those nightmares which drained him from vitality without end, and soon Perun knew that one of these days, that flickering flame he called mana, would burn out, returning him to nothing more than a normal middle-aged man.

His time on Earth was getting lesser as the years passed.

Perhaps he had outlived his purpose, Perun thought with a wry smile.

He had kept it a secret from his family to keep them from worrying, but... it was just a matter of time.

Perun raised his wrist up and gazed at his hand with empty eyes.

(I should handle the delegation of work in the guild very soon... but what excuse should I give the girls...)

"Haaah..."

He sighed again, remembering how bad the relationship between him and his daughters was lately. It was hard to bring it up today as well.

Shifting his legs to the bedside, Perun stretched his arms strongly, ridding of the strain accumulated last night.

The time was a little past sunrise, the sunlight had begun to prickle his eyes. Perun squeezed the bridge of his nose with a little strength, allowing his eyes to close again momentarily before opening them once more after adjusting to the light.

When he was done, Perun paused for a moment and looked down at the bulge popping up under his blanket.

A smile crept up his stoned face.

(I guess I was talking in my sleep...)

As Perun remembered the soft sensation resting against his legs as he woke up from his sleep earlier, he quickly came to a realization of who had relieved him of his nightmare.

Perun flipped over the blanket carefully, revealing a woman with a short height, hugging his left leg coquettishly in a fetus position.

Her hands were extended outwards like a cat, her rhythmic breathing made his heartbeat calm like tides along a seaside.

"Are you having a good dream?"

Perun whispered to her. As if hearing those words in his dreams, the woman returned a pleasant smile without breaking from her trance.

The woman was his wife Pixie, the ideal Yamato Nadeshiko any man would yearn for. It wouldn't be an exaggeration for Perun to boast about her ethereal beauty as such, considering that Perun had seen his fair share of women back in the days. Pixie was also the reason he could move on from his violent past.

Pixie’s black lustrous hair parted in between her slim shoulders like strings, and while her appearance was one of an adult, it didn’t seem as if she had grown anything on her chest yet, and not a trace of wrinkles could be seen on her clear and smooth skin.

As he heard the soft puffing escaping her lips, Perun gave in to the urge of stroking her head. If Pixie could be described as an animal, then she would be like the Chesire Cat, a black-furred feline that held an aura of elegance and playfulness.

It looked like she was sleeping rather soundly, Perun thought it would be a shame to wake her up. Once he had become satisfied from the headpats as Pixie was, Perun decided that it was time to get up. As his hand left Pixie, he could see his wife feeling a little reluctant from it.

(...Sleep a little longer for now.)

Perun smiled again.

As he relocated Pixie’s arms gently to a pillow, Perun realized consciously that he had received a brief respite from it.

After adjusting Pixie to a position where she could sleep more comfortably, Perun moved to the shower space in his room.

It was soundproof using a coat of mana-charged curtain, so he was not worried about the sound of the shower leaking outside.

Equipment that utilized mana. That had become the norm of society, allowing for deeper and faster technological advancements for the human race. Things that required petroleum, electricity or any kinds of 'energy' had been replaced with mana, the ever omni-potent material in the air.

Still, the mana in the atmosphere required a medium or filter to be collected and refined into usable energy. They had thus become a new kind of product in the world. Washing machines, elevators, cooking stoves. The lifestyle of humans had become far more complex, refined and efficient than that of the past. Not many countries had remained to benefit from it however, considering the fact that more than half of the human population were unable to handle the changes of mana within their bodies. A portion of them died from rejecting the foreign substance, while the other transformed into feral monsters or hordes of zombies.

...While the meteorite had given humans many beneficial things, it had also put in an equal to disrupt their progress. In spite of everything, the humans who survived in a metropolis where mana is used primarily for the sake of mankind, were definitely happy. In Liberun, a newfound country that rose from the ashes of the old world, Perun and his family lived such a decent life.

In this moderately futuristic home, many things operated automatically as if they had a will on their own, as mana also could detect, trace and comprehend the intentions of its user. Their three-storey terrace house that had various equipment that ran on mostly mana, was a luxurious place where only the upper society could afford to live in.

...

In the shower room-

Perun lightly swiped his hand across a display panel lodged onto the side of the wall as if passing the gantry terminal of a train station. The black screen display lit up without much loading. The words “MANA INDUCTION ACTIVE” appeared, activating everything within the shower room.

The number ‘53%’ could be seen at the right side of the display panel.

Perun placed the dirty clothes which he had carried along from the bedroom floor, and placed it on a tray that was in standby. It quickly slid back into the wall once the clothes were collected, and the churning sounds of a washing machine could be heard from the other side.

The man walked further in and a thin glass wall closed automatically after he was inside. Within the sectioned shower space, the faucets began to run.

“52 huh… that's kind of low."

Perun muttered slightly as the shower continued to rinse himself smartly. His gaze fell upon the panel near the entrance of the shower room.

The nightmare had further sapped him of his mana. A strange thought overcame him for a brief moment.

"Should I test it... my mana..."

(...Of course not...)

But he resolutely shook off his thoughts.

"Haaahh..."

Sighing again, Perun noticed that he had been doing so quite abit today. The melancholy of his life was beginning to seep into his battle-hardened soul.

But he didn't have the confidence to test it. Perhaps it had gotten to the point where using his mana would cause his body to deteriorate even more without his knowledge...

Soap and shampoo were applied using an automatic dispenser, and Perun merely closed his eyes and cooled himself in the shower.

When he was done, Perun left the shower space with a towel around his waist feeling much more refreshed.

...

Perun walked over to the bedside with steady steps. He bent his body forward and swept her fringe to the side, and kissed Pixie's forehead lightly.

...Pixie’s ears twitched cutely like rabbit from it. The effect was rather visible.

Perun smiled at this change.

"Did I wake you up?"

"...Haauuuu~ Mn... Mm..."

Pixie opened her mouth a little and let out a cute-sounding yawn while bobbing her head up and down. It seemed as if she had just woken up from a nice dream, and was barely returning a response.

She was unexpectedly light-headed in the morning, but Perun sat beside her and waited patiently.

“Hmm... Perru? You’re awake already…?”

"Perru" was of course, a nickname.

Pixie giggled lightly with narrowed eyes. Raising her flat chest, she got up from the bed and wrapped her arms around his chest.

"Auu... Perru's warmth... rechargeee~"

Pixie truly reacted like a cat. She rubbed her small nose on Perun's body and sniffed continuously. Perun pushed her head away after a while, feeling a little ticklish.

"Kusu kusu... Mm, you smell good~"

"Good morning, Pixie."

"Hmm hmm... Good morning, Perru."

She smiled, now fully awake.

"You bathed already?"

She was not as tall as Perun, thus her head was right at the place where his chest was.

"Yeah, yesterday... uh..."

"Un, I know. I won't tell the girls."

Perun scratched his head awkwardly. Pixie was the only one who knew about his condition. Still, she had continued to stick by him. Perun wondered if his life that treaded on betrayal and revenge would change if he had met Pixie sooner.

“...But still.”

Pixie suddenly tiptoed and looked right into her husband’s eyes with a moderately serious gaze. Her eyes reflected his, as if trying to ascertain the truth. Perun returned this gaze with his own.

A few seconds passed, and Pixie got back on her feet again and smiled brightly.

“Great, doesn't seem you're lying.”

Of course, it was the half truth which Perun had told her. The fact that it was just a recurring nightmare and not that it drained him of his mana, resulting in a lower lifespan. In the first place, it was inevitable that she would find out, considering that the two slept together in the same room. Giving an adequate reason was enough for Pixie, although Perun felt a little painful inside fully knowing well that she would not be able to handle the truth.

Despite how cheerful she looked like, Pixie also had a deeply-seated trauma like the girls he had adopted.

The increasing frequency of it must have made her worried again. At this, Perun could do nothing but bite his lips in secret.

"Are you sure you don't want to hire a sleep therapist?"

“I'm fine, Pixie... ...I'm fine."

“...Alright. If Perru says so..."

While she still felt a little reluctant, Pixie could merely nod her head meekly. Perun felt as if he could see an invisible cat tail drooping down behind her.

"Well... enough of this topic, how about taking a shower?"

"Eh?"

Pixie raised her despondent face. Perun knew what would cheer her up. He grinned and raised her up in a princess carry.

"H-huwahhh! P-Perru...!"

Pixie became flustered, but it was clear that she enjoyed it. Perun continued with a grin.

"Let’s take a shower together. It's been some time since we did it after all.”

“Y-you took one earlier..."

“Come on, the bath is ready~”

"U..uuu..."

Carrying her into the shower space with a better mood, the two enjoyed their time in the bath and headed downstairs shortly after.