Part I: Anima
PrometheusPart I: Anima
The world is split into two things: life and death.
All roads, whichever you take, lead to one destination—death. It’s inevitable, inescapable. Even the greatest of people die.
Once every couple of millennia, two people are born who hold these two halves of the world in their hands; and though their names are rarely recorded, they are known as Life and Death.
In the time that they live, the balance of the world is disrupted, and fate can be altered. The one who holds death has the power to kill where fate doesn’t allow, and the one with life is capable of raising those who should’ve remained dead.
But like everyone else, they, too, perish—because even though one may try to change fate, destiny was written out a long time ago.
Prologue
"Kim Jongin," the teacher called, frowning. "Is Kim Jongin here?"
We were barely five minutes into the first day of school and I was collapsed, rag doll style, over my desk and ready to make up for the sleep that school had deprived me of. I wasn’t quite ready for this yet—in fact, I didn’t know when I would be. Maybe ten years down the line, when experience would finally make me see how important learning would be. As for now…
"Kim Jongin," the teacher repeated again.
No one answered, and I could feel my eyes slowly drooping shut.
"Alright, then—"
Abruptly, the door of the classroom flew open, hitting the back wall with a ridiculously loud thump. I snapped upwards in surprise, jolting, and falling out of my chair in the process. There was another ridiculously loud noise, though this time, it was my chair crashing to the ground…with me. Or possibly, it was my yell as my head slammed against the rim of the seat. Or maybe both.
Laughter ensued from the class, snickers, a couple sympathetic oohs, and I felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. The back of my head still throbbed. I righted my chair and climbed back up, then turned my gaze to the source of the noise and the reason I had fallen. I blinked.
A boy, at the door. He carried a huge armful of books like he had taken everything he needed for every single period of the day, covering the bottom half of his face from view. His hair, a chocolate brown color, was swept over his forehead in a purposely messy, boyish style. His eyes were the only part of his face that I could see, and they scanned the room intensely.
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