The town was small, surrounded by weathered stone walls and watchtowers made of timber. Beyond the gate, smoke rose gently from chimneys. It was quiet—too quiet. The kind of place untouched by time, or perhaps forgotten by it.
Akira stumbled through the overgrown road, feet dragging, the last of his strength fading.
The guards atop the gate spotted him first.
"Oi, someone's coming—hold up…" one of them leaned forward, squinting. "He's coming from the west path. That's—"
"The Forbidden Forest," the other finished grimly. "No one ever comes from there."
They rushed down just as Akira collapsed at the threshold, face pale, clothes torn from the temple ruins. His breath was shallow.
"Damn, he's barely breathing. What is he—some lost mercenary?"
The younger guard noticed the faintly glowing pattern on Akira's chest—the remnants of the Eva Core's integration. A violet sigil, subtle but pulsing with life beneath the skin.
"Get the High Priest," he said quietly. "Now."
---
Akira stirred to the scent of porridge and the warmth of a damp cloth pressed to his forehead.
He opened his eyes slowly, the room a blur of stone walls, candlelight, and an old man in ceremonial robes.
"You're awake," the man said gently. "Good."
Akira tried to sit up but winced. "Where…?"
"You're in Umbria. More specifically, the Temple of Umbria." The man offered him a bowl. "Eat. You've been unconscious for hours."
Akira hesitated but took the porridge. It was plain, but warm and soothing.
"I'm Gregory," the man continued, "High Priest of this town. I've seen many strange things in my time… but none quite like you."
Gregory's eyes lingered on Akira's chest. The mark was now dormant, its glow faded—but not hidden.
"I recognize that sigil," he said. "It's been passed down in our records for generations."
He rose and retrieved a leather-bound book, worn but preserved carefully. Its cover bore the same symbol—etched faintly into the old hide.
"This is one of the few surviving accounts of the Great War," Gregory said, placing the book in Akira's lap. "Written by my ancestors. They served one of the Seven."
Akira frowned. The writing inside was completely foreign—some runic, flowing script he'd never seen before.
> "Eva Core translation enabled. Displaying overlay."
As Eva's voice echoed in his mind, glowing subtitles began to scroll just beneath the ancient text. He could read every word.
> "…and among them stood the Witch of Eva, her eyes reflecting starlight, her form a mirror of devastation and salvation alike. When the six fell, only she remained.…"
Akira's heart pounded. He didn't understand any of it. Not yet. But something deep within him stirred—recognition, not of memory, but of purpose.
Gregory watched him closely.
"You bear her Core, don't you?"
Akira looked up slowly.
"I… I don't know."
The priest nodded solemnly. "Then we must discover the truth together. For if you are who I think you are… then the world is about to change."
---