Millenium : The Awakening of Heroes

In the narrow, dark streets of Aethis, nestled in the heart of the country of Isrue, daylight struggled to pierce through the persistent fog. The shouts of quarrels and bursts of laughter echoed in the air, but for Ikku, it was all a distant hum.

Sitting on a worn-out bench, he watched the passersby, his eyes filled with unattainable dreams. Ikku was just an ordinary teenager from a chaotic household. Neither particularly tall nor short, standing around 5'10" , his short red hair was often messy. He wore a red T-shirt and black shorts, layered with a sleeveless black vest, and black sneakers completed his look.

His parents, trapped in their addiction to alcohol, had never provided him with the support he needed.

Constant moves and endless arguments at home had built a deep sense of solitude within him.

At school, he was invisible, a mediocre student who neither attracted attention nor friendship.

"Life is so boring," he thought, his face turned toward the sky.

"It's time to go home, even if I don't particularly want to."

Ikku stood up and started walking toward his house.

On his way, he overheard a conversation that piqued his interest:

"Imagine if someone ever managed to gather them all," said the first man.

"Then they'd immediately be recognized as the greatest hero in history," the second man replied with a laugh. "But honestly, that's impossible."

The first man, clearly drunk, noticed Ikku and called out to him.

"And you, kid, what do you think? Surely, you think it's doable, right?!"

"What are you talking about?" Ikku asked, intrigued.

"The four jewels, of course!"

"The four… jewels?"

"What are they teaching you in school these days?" the man exclaimed, holding his head in mock despair. "There are four jewels hidden in the world. For thousands of years, adventurers from all corners of the globe have sought them out. And for good reason! The legend says that whoever gathers all four will gain immense power and be hailed as the greatest hero of all time! This quest, which has existed for millennia, is called Millenium!"

"Leave him alone," the second man retorted, leaning against the wall with a bottle of liquor in hand, amused. "The kid doesn't need to hear your nonsense."

"Why not?" replied the first man, playfully tapping Ikku's shoulder. "After all, a man's ambitions are his most precious treasures, hahaha!"

The word "Millenium" echoed in Ikku's mind, sparking a flame he had never felt before.

His usually dull eyes lit up with newfound determination. For the first time, an idea took root in his mind: perhaps this legend was his chance. His chance to escape, to change the course of his miserable life. To prove he was more than the boy everyone ignored.

As he resumed his walk, his thoughts swirled:

"Millenium... Maybe I could try too."

Ikku eventually arrived home. The day had been like any other: dull and uneventful. But as he reached the threshold of his apartment, muffled shouting seeped through the poorly insulated door. His parents were arguing again.

He stopped in front of the door, a knot forming in his stomach.

"Not again..." he thought, clenching his teeth.

The voices inside were chaotic but unmistakable. His mother's shrill, angry tone cut through the wood, followed by his father's heavy, slurred mumbling. Laughter mixed with yelling and insults. Ikku could feel his spirits sink.

Clenching his fists, he hesitated. Every night, it was the same scene—senseless arguments that only deepened his loneliness. His instincts screamed at him to turn around, to run far from this misery, but he had nowhere to go.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly pushed the creaking door open. Instantly, the shouting hit him like a wave, enveloping him in a whirlwind of anger and chaos.

"You're nothing but useless!" his mother screamed, her voice trembling with rage.

"And you think you're any better?" his father shot back, his words distorted by alcohol.

Ikku froze for a moment in the doorway, watching the sad spectacle of his parents. Empty bottles littered the coffee table, and their alcohol-flushed faces were twisted in anger. His father raised a hand, threatening, but Ikku quickly averted his gaze.

He had neither the strength nor the will to intervene.

Without a word, he shut the door behind him and quickly headed to his room, trying to make his presence as invisible as possible. The shouting didn't stop, and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Why do I stay here?" he murmured to himself, his fists clenched in frustration.

He quietly shut his bedroom door and collapsed onto his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Here, in this tiny space he called his refuge, he could finally distance himself from the storm raging just a few meters away. But even here, the shouting echoed in his head, like an unending infernal melody.

Ikku curled up, trying to block out the insults still flying in the living room. Each word cut into him, each shout dragged him deeper into his own powerlessness.

He closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come quickly and that tomorrow would be different. But deep down, he knew nothing would change. Not as long as he stayed here.