Heres: World’s Still Screwed

They called me Heres, Keeper of Balance, the sacred idiot who'd hold the world’s crumbling self-worth together. Didn’t ask for it. Didn’t want it. But here I am—bleeding, spitting, laughing at the cosmic joke. Aou, this miserable marble of a world, doesn’t need another hero. It needs a demolition crew.

After years in isolation, betrayed by everyone who ever shook my hand or kissed my cheek, I thought I had nothing left. Turns out, I was wrong. Somewhere beyond the venomous cities, the monster-infested woods, and the soup that tried to kill me at Mama Roggie’s Tavern, there’s still something. Maybe not hope. Maybe not love. But something that reminds me why I haven’t let this planet rot without me.

This is my story. It's ugly. It's bloody. It might just be the last one anyone ever tells. And if you’re hoping for a happy ending, go stick a fairytale where the sun don't shine. Heres out.