"Good afternoon, my precious diary."
"My name is Harris. Agent Name: [Swift Sword]."
"This journal is a collection of all the information that I, a [4th-Tier Agent] from the Dawnbringer Empire's 11th Special Unit, have compiled thus far. And, I want to remind myself that I am currently saving this for later use, for a worst-case scenario that includes me becoming corrupted."
"Anyway… Today marks the 1000th year since the destruction of Old Humanity. The modern, contemporary civilisation of the past is long lost to us now."
According to books, those buildings, streets, and academies turned to dust and rubble, and the rivers of blood flourished from endless demise. The Abyss opened up on the next day on the seven-day event of the [Horizon of Calamity] and consumed it all, transforming everything."
"Even the soil which plants grow on was so stained with blood and [Corruption] that the evolution of everything on this earth had become affected, and shifted to a more monstrous tone."
"But thankfully, the Corruption that affected everything included us humans, too, so a few of those mundane people were lucky enough to become the heroes of New Humanity, those whom we call [Wayfarers]."
"They will lead us through the darkness of the Abyss, aiding us to slay the most damning enemy in our path, the [Outer Darkness], the deepest evil in this Abyss, which we have assumed is indeed a [God]."
"Meanwhile, us Agents are there to support them through the use of [Myth Magic], granted to us by the leader of the First Resistance, [Dawnlight]."
"Unlike Wayfarers and their [Unique Resistance] against Corruption, we do not have anything to protect us in the [Abyssal Lands] beyond the [Dark Border] surrounding this continent, Velemona, the last surviving Continent."
"However, our affinity for Myth Magic can aid us in ways never expected. You see, Myth Magic is unlike anything that Old Humanity could ever obtain. With this power, we can wield the ability of Old Humanity's ancient myths and legends, possessing the power of [Magic] from olden times."
"While 1st-Tier Agents are the lowest tier, with an affinity barely above normal humans, meaning they can only summon the power of low-tier magic, 8th-Tier Agents are the highest tier, not only stacked with an incredible amount of affinity, but also capable of wielding a [Speciality] of a specific fable too, like that of [Hercules]."
"It isn't exactly known how that is possible, but it is speculated that it's because Corruption can specifically alter the lines between fable and reality."
"With this power, and the various other types of magic available, we can aid the Wayfarers in a variety of ways, and act as a failsafe for anything that goes wrong, and I mean, anything."
"The Dawnbringer Empire, the rulers of Velemona, value the 8th-Tiers very much, although not as much as the [Wayfarers]. Though, since additional information is so extremely classified about them, I'm not sure exactly why."
"It's most likely because they were the ones who sealed the Horizon of Calamity in the Abyssal Lands beyond the Dark Border. However, I don't think that's all there is to it, due to the "evidence" I've recently discovered."
"Oh, and yes, there is one more very important thing that I should write here."
"A prophecy has been declared in the Dawnbringer Empire's Capital, proclaiming that the [Child of Destiny] must be found, or else New Humanity will be doomed."
…
At that very same moment, in a small bar that was a great distance away from the Empire's Capital in the continent of Velemona, a small tale was being told…
"…My town was a strange place."
"…Before it got destroyed, I mean."
"It was built in a place surrounded by monster swamps, and in a country where torrential rain and mud blooms were widespread, and where creatures often lurked and stalked."
"For those who had lived in the larger towns and the great cities, the existence of such monsters was known, but not a frequent occurrence. However, the same could not be said for those who lived in smaller shacks."
"As you all know, long after the event that caused [Old Humanity] to collapse into a pile of steamy rubble, even with that advanced technology they had, the first thing we humans did after fending off all the monsters and claiming Velemona was to rebuild. But, even after all that time has passed, we haven't truly built anything worth a damn in comparison to the Old World, except the Great Capital."
"And, what's worse is that Old World technology is long lost to us now, due to the lingering Corruption that can warp the natural elements of this world to a bizarre degree. The only good thing to come out of its strange abnormalities was the [Constructs]."
"And yet, despite all this, despite their homes falling apart from a slight breeze, despite the fear and nightmares of monsters and brutes slaughtering and massacring them all, some of the town's locals, especially on this particular night, were filled to the brim with joy."
"They had just begun their annual Firewheel Festival, after all, to celebrate the day Velemona was born, and, on this particular day, to celebrate the birth of a new hero that had come from their humble town."
"All of you must know that man, too, who ran around with that cowboy hat and a banjo. That silly fool who nicknamed himself "Hash Brown". He's grown quite popular since he joined the Wilder Mercenaries, out in the desert regions."
"And, as you know, ever since the [Corruption] intruded on these lands slowly, the slowly rising group of people just like him, even while not being Agents or Wayfarers, did their best to defend against evil, allowing some human homes to live in peace for once in a while."
"…But… for some reason, that man, Hash Brown, wasn't there on that day. As if he chose not to fend against the monsters that had come to eat the townies and their children."
As if a powerful memory was suddenly resurfacing, the voice slowly faded, allowing his recollection to take over from then on.
"…"
"1…"
"…2…"
"…3…"
"…HAPPY FIREWHEEL FESTIVAL!"
The celebrations began in earnest, as the residents of a dainty town cheered while skipping and prancing around, enjoying themselves at the festival's venues. And there, amongst the crowd of joyous fellows, lads and lassies, a young child looked up and enjoyed the warmth of the atmosphere around him.
He was his hero, and it was the same for many other young boys and girls in the town. After all, that very same man was comparable to someone like [Harbinger] in their eyes, an edgelord Agent with a devilish smirk who had once helped defeat [The Dragon of Dread], a child of the [Titanfolk].
But then, suddenly, it began to rain. Although the townies weren't impeded, this was a sign of disaster. On this day, calamity would strike like red lightning, signalling the beginning of a grand renewal.
Boom!
Just like that, the lightning strike hit one of the venue stalls, indirectly causing a man to collapse. A few of the people went to help him back up, while the small boy watched with curiosity.
They mumbled a few things that were unable to be heard, while thunder and red lightning bellowed in the distance.
Funnily enough, while red lightning was a newly-born geographical characteristic of Velemona, it was also considered an omen. However, that wasn't going to stop the town's citizens, since this opportunity to celebrate was hard to come by.
But they would soon all be begging for another chance, another chance at keeping their precious safety and security, even after knowing the risks of throwing such a festival.
Because the bringers of Corruption, the Demonkin that were waves upon waves of monsters, suddenly attacked once midnight struck. He didn't notice it at first, but when the young boy first caught sight of the endless wafting of flames as it consumed the venue stalls, his eyes turned to the great, slobbering beasts all around him at this point, which charged at every living thing in sight.
He was too young to make sense of it all, even when he saw his fellow younglings get mercilessly ripped to shreds.
But then, when one of the monsters came for him, in a great stroke of luck, the red lightning came down to save him. It was as if it had come specifically to save this poor, terrified child.
"And I, Harlock, a young man who had also just barely survived with a gnarly wound on my head and a claw mark on my chest, watched as he ran into the darkness of the night, away from the monsters and fire, and away from it all."
"…It makes me sad to think that the poor boy probably didn't even survive the night, unless he was special from the beginning."
"Not just because of the risk of hunger, or thirst, or sleep deprivation, or anything else, but first and foremost because of the natural Corruption levels that the monsters carry within them and spread into their surroundings."
"…"
"…Yet still, I find myself thinking about the words he would utter, in the minuscule chance that he would be able to survive."
Harlock put down his glass of alcohol and stared upwards. He imagined the young boy running and running until his legs ached and until the tears of blood stopped running down his face.
"Hm… what would he say…? Maybe…"
He imagined the boy's furious, irate, irrational expression in that moment and shivered.
"…It seems even I wouldn't be able to comprehend his rage. This world is… very… very cruel."