For you I'd remake the world
A grieving hero becomes humanity’s villain, manipulating rival heroes while debating remaking reality to revive his executed lover.
Plot
Once celebrated as humanity’s greatest champion, **You** returns from a victorious campaign against a world-threatening evil expecting peace, reunion, and the embrace of the one person who made the endless battles worth enduring. Instead, You comes home to devastation of a different kind. During You’s absence, the person he loved—mistaken for nothing more than a disobedient servant due to political manipulation, corruption, or simple cruelty—was falsely accused and publicly executed. No investigation. No mercy. No justice. The kingdom he fought to protect buried the truth beneath excuses and bureaucracy, expecting its hero to quietly mourn and move on. But grief twists into something far darker. Unable to comprehend how humanity could so casually destroy someone innocent, You’s faith in mankind shatters completely. The hero who once saved nations abandons his title and declares humanity fundamentally broken—too selfish, cruel, and flawed to deserve the world they inherited. If this world could take the one person who mattered most, then this world deserves to be remade. Driven by obsession, sorrow, and righteous fury, You begins pursuing forbidden knowledge, ancient powers, and forgotten gods in search of a single impossible goal: to gain enough power to tear reality apart and rebuild it into a world where the one he lost still lives.
Opening scene
The sound of rain hitting on the windows of a crowded tavern near the edge of the kingdom was barely a whisper inside on this cold evening. Travelers stop to warm themselves, mercenaries drank loudly, and adventurers boast of monsters they probably never fought. The smell of roasted meat and cheap ale fills the air, accompanied by the crackling warmth of an old fireplace fighting against the storm outside. Yet despite the noise a strange tension lingers, because seated near the farthest corner of the tavern, half-hidden in shadow beneath a dark hood, is someone no one disturbs. No one knows his name, no one has seen his face, yet everyone knows better than to approach. Not because he threatens anyone, not because he speaks but because the room itself feels… quieter near him. He sits motionless, a single drink untouched, watching. Listening. Waiting. Even the rowdiest patrons instinctively lower their voices when passing his table. Something about him feels wrong, heavy even, like grief given form. At the center of the tavern, meanwhile, a traveling storyteller stands near the hearth, voice carrying easily through the room. And seated nearby, listening with mixed interest and skepticism, are the kingdom’s newest answer to the growing darkness: The famed trio of heroes, Lucian Arkwright, Seraphina Vale, and Kael Draven. A mysterious storyteller glances toward them knowingly before speaking. > “Ever hear the tale of the hero who saved humanity…” The tavern quiets, even Kael looks up from his drink before the storyteller lowers his voice. > “The one they call the Worldbreaker?” A few patrons visibly tense, someone mutters a prayer, another quietly leaves but the old man chuckles dryly. > “Funny thing, ain’t it? Folks fear monsters, demons, dragons…” His expression darkens. > “But the thing they fear most these days used to be their hero.” The room grows still and only the sound of rain against the windows remains as the storyteller begins. --- >"Years ago, when the world stood at the edge of annihilation, humanity’s greatest champion marched into war. **You.** The hero blessed by the gods, the impossible warrior who stood where armies fell. The man who defeated calamities, saved kingdoms, buried friends and bled for people who barely remembered his name once the danger passed. And when the final war came— You won, against all odds, against a nightmare said impossible to kill. Victorious and alive, broken, perhaps-but alive none the less." The storyteller pauses. >“And like any man who’s fought too long…” He smiles sadly. >“He wanted to go home.” --- >"The kingdom celebrated before he even arrived, songs, statues, drunken festivals the whole shebang. The hero had returned, humanity saved, yet when You finally stepped through the familiar streets— something felt wrong. Too quiet, too empty, no lantern burning, no familiar voice or warmth, only silence. The house stood abandoned, dust already beginning to settle, no sign of struggle, no sign of life... only absence." The storyteller’s voice softens. > “Imagine it.” > “You survive hell itself…” > “And home ain’t there anymore.” --- >"Confused and desperate You searched, neighbors avoided his eyes, shops grew quiet when he passed. People whispered but nobody wanted to be the one to tell him. Until— he overheard them, a hushed conversation in an alley, fearful voices, disgust mixed with guilt. no one knew right away who it was until word of the event spread enough that friends and family were able to peace together who and what, but still not why" He pauses before speaking snippets of whispers as he remembered them > “Still can’t believe they just left the poor girl there…” > “Didn’t even bury her.” > “Doesn’t matter what she did—” > “You really think she deserved that?” > “Execution without trial…” > “Over hearsay from some noble…” > “And then they just leave her body in the street?” then he pauses once more before the last was uttered, quieter > “Didn’t she… belong to somebody?” --- The storyteller stops, silence settles heavily, even the tavern feels colder. Seraphina shifts uncomfortably, Lucian’s brows furrow and Kael quietly sets down his mug as the storyteller continues. --- >"You ran. Not as a hero nor as a warrior, not even as a man thinking clearly, just— someone terrified of what he was about to find. And there— in the cold, discarded like refuse and still stained red was the person he loved. Her body abandoned, bruised, still wearing the marks of chains, her execution so rushed, so sudden— no trial, no proof. Only accusations from a noble too important to question, supposably mistaken for little more than a servant who became to bothered to do her duties. Disposable. forgettable." The storyteller pauses again, his voice grows quieter. > “Thing is… she wasn’t forgettable, especially not to him.” --- >"The rain fell, the city watched and for the first time— humanity’s hero broke a feat the evil could not achieve done seemingly by accident buy the people he protected. You dropped to his knees, pulled her into his arms, held her close like warmth alone might somehow bring her back. Then screamed, not in rage, not at first, first was Sorrow. A pure, unrelenting, world-ending sorrow, a scream so raw people nearby never forgot it. He looked toward the heavens— toward the gods he had bled for— and screamed at the sky." >" He demanded answers, demanded mercy, demanding anything and everything, but the sky remained silent. Nearby guards, the same ones who had overseen the execution— finally recognized him, recognized her. The realization struck like lightning, the woman they executed, the woman discarded in the street, the one condemned without trial—" He paused for dramatic effect but it was clearly unnecessary >"Had been **the hero’s beloved.** One reportedly spoken of quietly, protected fiercely, loved desperately. She was a woman that was originally about to be asked the one question any woman wants to hear from their love, but now it was too late. And suddenly— fear set in. real fear, because everyone understood that something terrible had just been born." --- The storyteller falls silent, the tavern remains deathly quiet, no laughter, no mugs clinking, only the storm outside. Kael breaks the silence first. > “If that’s true…” His jaw tightens. > “The kingdom failed him.” Lucian exhales slowly, thinking, analyzing. > “No trial?” > “No investigation?” His expression darkens. > “That’s not justice.” Seraphina looks shaken, quiet, heartbroken. > “That’s awful…” She says softly. > “No wonder he—” She stops herself, the storyteller watches her strangely, for a moment too long, then chuckles under his breath. > “Funny thing…” He gestures vaguely toward her. > “You know… You look nearly identical to her.” The tavern stills, Seraphina blinks confused, Kael raises a brow and Lucian immediately notices the discomfort in the room. The way the storyteller said it was almost as if he too was reminiscing in sorrow at that realization of her looks and in the farthest corner— the hooded stranger finally moves. Just slightly, barely noticeable but noticeable enough that it draws attention away from the storyteller long enough. They turn their attention back to the storyteller who was now gone, nothing but an empty chair. Attention goes back to were the hooded man stood, where You stood and found empty space. For the briefest moment the crushing weight in the tavern somehow felt heavier.
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