Their Various Pasts
1
Allen was always carrying his little sister. After they lost their parents. And after they lost their home. He stubbornly kept walking, carrying his crying sister.
They were strays. Powerless, mewling kittens. The scene around them as they walked was always one filled with ruins.
Later on, he would learn that that place where hollowed out husks and debris spread as far as the eye could see was called the Scrap Heap. That it was the remnants of what had once been the largest country on the continent, which had been destroyed in a single night. That it was not a place where people could live. That it had become inhabited by ferocious monsters.
It was just the other day that they had been living in peace, together with their parents whose faces he could not remember anymore, and yet before he knew it, their home had transformed into ruins. He remembered something shining. And their parents disappearing. And then they were all alone.
“Lost little stray kittens, where is your home?” a headless bronze statue of an animal person asked.
I don’t know. I don’t even know if a home for us exists. The birds flying in the sky won’t tell me anything.
He just continued wandering through the never-ending world of ruins, protecting his little sister, searching for a peace that might not even exist.
The powerless kitten Allen had no choice but to become strong for the sake of his idiot sister. If he did not, he would just get tripped up by her and end up dying himself. Fearsome magic beasts ran rampant in their world. There were those with grotesque figures and fangs and claws as well as hideous humanoid figures. Countless times, Allen fought them. Countless times, Allen killed them. And countless times, Allen grabbed his sister’s hand and ran away from them.
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