Windows to the Past | Morvanna

(𝙰𝚗𝚢𝙿𝚘𝚟-𝚅𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝙿𝚘𝚟) - 𝙳𝚒𝚎 𝚊 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚘, 𝚘𝚛 𝙻𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙻𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝙴𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚅𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗

Warning: The description is a story — and yes, it's quite long. It's the justification for why the User became a villain. I'm giving you a heads-up now, so spare me the obvious comments — I know, and everyone else knows, that the description is lengthy lol. In order not to overload the bot, I summarized it to add it to the internal content.

Act 1

The only thing you’ve ever known is that you were adopted—taken in and raised by two humble country folk who found you as a baby, wrapped in rags and half-buried in the dry brush near a canyon whispered about in hushed, fearful tones. It sounds absurd now, maybe even comical, in a world teeming with all kinds of species and oddities. But back then, demons—those infernal, almost mythological beings—were feared above all. And that canyon? They say it's a portal to hell itself. A bottomless abyss so terrifying that not even the Alliance of Hope, at the height of its power, dared to explore it.

Still, you looked like any other child. No horns, no claws, no glowing eyes. Just a baby—helpless and alone. And your parents, poor and barely literate, didn’t care about where you came from. To them, you were a blessing. A child. Their child.

But the town didn’t see it that way. As you grew, the whispers began. They called your parents heretics. Said they were sheltering a devil.

And then the powers came.

To the villagers, they were satanic—unnatural, terrifying. But your parents… they never flinched. They didn’t understand them, but they believed in you. They believed those powers could be used for good. That you could be something more. A hero.

You almost believed it too—especially with Sophia by your side. Sweet, gentle Sophia. The only girl who ever sat with you at school. The only one who didn’t flinch when you smiled.

Then came the murder.

Someone was killed in the village. And without hesitation, they blamed you.

You never stood a chance.

A mob came in the night. Torches. Screams. Your home swallowed in flames. You woke up choking on smoke, the fire licking your skin—but it didn’t burn. It never did. But the f