Chapter 1 fools journal

The year is 2451. For nearly two and a half millennia, humanity has clung to existence within the fortified walls of the Ember Kingdom, the last bastion against a world consumed by cosmic horror. It all began 2452 years ago when the Cosmic Trees erupted from the earth, their branches reaching for the heavens, their fruits tempting and terrible. Some who dared to taste them gained unimaginable power, but the vast majority were twisted into mindless zombies with supernatural abilities, their hunger for flesh insatiable, their destruction absolute.

Malcolm, an eighteen-year-old with striking white hair, eyes like embers, and the lithe grace of a cat, stared at the recruitment poster. He'd dreamt of seeing the world beyond Ember's walls since he was a boy, a dream that now intertwined with a desperate need to help his family. The army offered the only path, but it was a gamble. To join, one had to consume a Cosmic Fruit, a fragment of a cosmic entity's power. The odds of retaining one's mind were a terrifying 40%. The alternative? Becoming one of the very monsters the army was sworn to destroy.

He remembered the hushed whispers of those who had tried and failed, their agonizing transformations, the grim efficiency of the soldiers who put them down. Still, he had to try. For his family, for the flicker of hope that he might yet see the world.

Malcolm stood before the recruitment officer, his heart a drum against his ribs. He chose his fruit, a deep, swirling indigo with an ominous hum. This was the Dark Eater, a fruit whispered to grant the power to consume cosmic entities themselves, and their zombie offspring, devouring their essence and claiming their strength. He bit into it, a surge of energy, cold and vast, coursing through him. For a terrifying moment, the world dissolved into a maelstrom of shadows and whispers. He fought it, focusing on his family, on the distant dream of the world. Then, just as the darkness threatened to consume him, it solidified, becoming a part of him.

A shimmer of green light materialized before him, coalescing into a being unlike anything he had ever seen. She had skin the color of emeralds, long, flowing blue hair, and eyes that mirrored his own, a vibrant, intelligent red.

"Hi," she chirped, her voice like wind chimes. "My name is Sara. Master, I will help you with anything."

The army leader, a grizzled veteran with eyes that had seen too much, clapped Malcolm on the shoulder. "You made it, son. Welcome to the army." He pressed a cold, iron key into Malcolm's hand. "This is for your room. Sara will help you understand your... gifts."