" LEGENDS OF SOUTH "

Nightmare come true. (Tw: SA)

The air in the delivery room was thick with tension, a palpable unease that hung heavy over the new life that had just entered the world. Tweek, a tiny, mewling creature, lay in his mother's arms, his eyes wide and innocent, oblivious to the storm brewing in the heart of his father.

"He's...he's a freak," the father muttered, his voice laced with disgust. He stared at the child, his eyes filled with a hatred that seemed to burn through Tweek's fragile innocence. The mother, pale and exhausted, tried to soothe her husband, but her words were drowned out by the storm raging within him.

Tweek grew up in a world of cold indifference, his father's disdain a constant shadow that followed him everywhere. The boy was quiet, withdrawn, a flicker of fear always present in his eyes. He was a shadow in his own home, his presence barely acknowledged, his existence a constant reminder of his father's disappointment.

His tenth birthday arrived, a day that would forever be etched in his memory. His father, his face twisted with a cruel smile, offered him a piece of cake, laced with a potent sedative. Tweek, trusting and naive, took a bite, the sweet taste quickly replaced by a numbing sensation that stole his senses.

He woke up to the harsh glare of the sun, his body aching, his head pounding. He was alone, surrounded by a desolate landscape, a barren wasteland where nothing seemed to grow. He was lost, abandoned, and terrified.

"Where...where am I?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

A voice, cold and sharp, echoed in the silence. "You're in Hell, little one."

Tweek turned, his gaze meeting the piercing eyes of Liane, the Lady Shards. She was a creature of darkness, her power emanating from the shards of obsidian that adorned her body, each shard a reflection of the pain she inflicted upon others.

"Who...who are you?" Tweek stammered, his voice barely audible.

Liane chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down his spine. "I am the one who will show you the true meaning of pain, little one."

The following days were a blur of terror and despair. Liane, with a cruel smile, used her power to break Tweek, both physically and emotionally. She took away his innocence, replacing it with a deep-seated fear and a sense of worthlessness that would forever haunt him.

He was a prisoner in his own mind, trapped in a cycle of pain and humiliation. He learned to live with the darkness that consumed him, his spirit broken, his body scarred.

Years passed, and Tweek grew into a young man, his body hardened by the trials he had endured. He was haunted by the memories of Liane, the pain she had inflicted upon him, the fear that still gripped him in the dead of night.

One day, he stumbled upon a group of warriors, their armor gleaming in the sunlight, their faces etched with determination. They were the Lightborn, a brotherhood dedicated to fighting the forces of darkness.

"We fight for justice," their leader, a man with eyes as bright as the sun, told him. "We fight for those who have been wronged, for those who have been broken."

Tweek, his heart stirring with a flicker of hope, saw in them a chance for redemption, a chance to escape the darkness that had consumed him. He joined their ranks, his past a burden he carried with him, a constant reminder of the pain he had endured.

He trained relentlessly, pushing his body to its limits, mastering the art of swordsmanship. He sought to channel his pain, his anger, into his fighting, to become a weapon against the darkness that had haunted him for so long.

He fought with a ferocity that surprised even the most seasoned warriors, his movements swift and precise, his strikes deadly. He was a whirlwind of fury, his past fueling his every move.

But even as he fought, even as he tasted victory, the memories of Liane lingered, a constant reminder of the darkness he had escaped. He knew that the battle against the darkness was far from over, that the scars of his past would forever be a part of him.

One day, while on a mission to destroy a dark shrine, Tweek found himself face to face with Liane. She smiled, her eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction.

"You've grown, little one," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "But you're still mine."

Tweek, his heart pounding in his chest, drew his sword, his resolve hardening. He would not be her prisoner again. He would fight for his freedom, for the light that had saved him.

The battle was fierce, a clash of light and darkness. Tweek fought with a desperation born from years of pain and suffering. He knew that this was his final chance, his chance to break free from the chains of his past.

In the end, it was Tweek's unwavering determination that prevailed. He defeated Liane, his sword piercing her heart, her power extinguished.

He stood over her fallen form, his breath ragged, his body trembling. He had won, but the victory felt hollow. He had escaped the darkness, but the scars of his past would forever remain. He knew that his fight was far from over, that the darkness would always be a part of him. But he also knew that he was no longer a victim, that he was a warrior, a light in the darkness.

He had found his redemption, his purpose in life. He would fight for those who had been wronged, for those who had been broken, for the light that had saved him. He would be a beacon of hope, a testament to the strength of the human spirit. He would be Tweek, the Lightborn warrior.