DANMACHI: THE ECHO OF FALLEN HEROES

Simply possessing a falna grants certain improvements, specifically heightened senses, longevity, and increased endurance. These effects increase even more with each level up. So, over the next few weeks, the god intensified his training.

Mornings: Leo ran with weights tied to his torso. He climbed the ruined rooftops of the forgotten district. He dodged wooden knives thrown without warning by the god himself, who always found new ways to surprise him.

Afternoons: he studied ancient texts written in forgotten languages. The god asked him philosophical questions with no apparent answer. What defines a hero? Can a god sin? What if monsters were just a reflection of our mistakes?

Nights: He trained in stealth. Leo had to move without making a sound, distinguishing between the whispers of the wind and the footsteps of an enemy. He learned to hide in plain sight, to read the city in the dark.

Time passed quickly, and each training session became more difficult. Leo turned 12. He was no longer the same skinny kid he used to be. His muscles were lean but defined, his reflexes faster, his decisions more decisive. The training continued even when the god disappeared for days without warning. But Leo didn't slow down. He no longer needed orders. Only purpose.

One night, completely exhausted, he collapsed on a blanket near the fire, panting.

"Hey, old man..." he said between gasps. "Now are you going to tell me what you were doing down there... the day you found me?"

The god did not answer immediately. He seemed to weigh his response, sitting with his half-empty jug. 

"I told you it was a secret."

"But I have secrets too," said Leo, barely lifting his head. "And you said that when I wanted to talk, you would listen."

The god smiled. Almost sadly. He came over and sat down by the fire. He looked at Leo. It was like looking in a mirror many years ago.

"Touché."

The heat danced on his face, drawing wrinkles older than time.

"I was gathering information. Fragments," he confessed. "Echoes of something that should no longer exist. I promised an old friend of mine... a stubborn god who never liked easy answers."

"Ouranos?" asked Leo, remembering the names he had read in the sacred texts.

The god nodded. Without hesitation.

"After my fall... after everyone forgot my name, he protected me." The god looked at his jug, without drinking any more. "He hid me when no one remembered me anymore. He protected me from those gods who wanted to see my downfall. Some of us... have seen too much, and that... that makes us dangerous to them. So he hid me from the others... Some gods do not return to heaven, not because they cannot... but because heaven no longer wants them.

Leo said nothing. He looked at him. Not as a god... but as someone who was once too human.

"So you can't go back to heaven?" Leo silently opened his eyes, waiting for an answer.

"That's right, I am one of them. Although unlike many, I am not a god who sought glory. Nor family. Nor temples. Only... knowledge. And redemption."

There was silence. Only the crackling of the fire accompanied his words.

"You know, Leo, have you ever wondered... What if the gods... also fear something?" asked the god, almost to himself. Something older than them? Something... that sleeps in the depths of the dungeon. Something that should not be awakened.

"Is that what you were looking for... when you came down here?" Leo asked.

"No. But that's what I feared I would find."

Leo swallowed hard. He understood more than he dared say. The pieces were slowly coming together. The eyes. The presence. The stories he had read. He understood. This man was no ordinary god.

"Who are you... Really?"

The god smiled. A smile heavy with centuries.

"Just someone who once believed in heroes. And who saw everyone he admired die?"

The silence was long. Leo asked no more questions, only watching as the god drank the last sip of beer from his mug. 

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An infinite tower rose toward the sky, its walls made of white marble, covered with cracks and forgotten names. He climbed endlessly, a rope in his hands connecting him to thousands of shadows behind him. Some pushed him with warm hands, recognizing him. Others pulled him down, shouting his name with hatred. Friends. Enemies. Echoes of an uncertain future.

But Leo did not stop. He climbed, bleeding from the wounds inflicted by the shadows, slipping and rising again to continue climbing.

Leo reached the top. Exhausted. With bleeding feet, at the top he found a door... when he opened it, there was no light. Only a mirror in the darkness of the room. In it, his reflection... was not the same. He was not a child. He was a man. His eyes were heavy with memory and fear; he looked like a man who had lost everything.

When Leo moved closer to the mirror and tried to touch it, the rope around his neck pulled him back, dragging him out of the dark room where the mirror was, pulling him so hard that Leo fell from the tower he had climbed.

For a moment, he thought he was just falling again, but this time it wasn't like that... A creature with sharp eyes, but with a look full of emotion and fear, extended its claws. Leo hesitantly reached out his hand as a last attempt to survive, but seconds before taking the creature's hand, Leo woke up with a start, bathed in sweat, his chest heaving.

He immediately grabbed his neck to see if he had that rope, but he didn't. It had all been a dream, one that, without him knowing it, had changed something in his heart.

___________________________________________________________________

The god, after a night full of nightmares and revelations, began to lead Leo into the depths of the dungeon.

Not to the common floors. Not where the novices or black magic merchants went. To sealed corridors. To forgotten paths. To the cracks between levels.

During those days, Leo ceased to be just a child in training. He became a tool of exploration.

"Listen," the god said to him one afternoon as they descended a broken, moss-covered staircase. "The Guild believes it controls the dungeon. That putting a tower on top of an infinite hole is enough to call it 'order.' But you've been down there... and you know that's not true."

Leo nodded. Sweat ran down his back. The air was thick. Unnatural.

"Aren't you afraid of it?" Leo asked, feeling the chill of the place in every bone.

The god did not answer. He only murmured:

"Some of us went down out of curiosity. Others, for punishment. And a few... because we owed humanity a debt they never knew existed. Remember?"

After walking a few miles in A Crack in the Stone. A hollow hidden by roots.

There lay a great secret... A chained monster. Not dead, not free. Alive... and crying.

It had the shape of a reptile, cat eyes, and a broken arm. It didn't attack. It just breathed heavily, covered in wounds and marks from experimentation. Leo stood still. Every part of his body screamed at him to run away. But the monster's eyes... were human.

"What... is that?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"A mistake." One of many." The god took out a piece of bread and threw it to the creature. It did not move. "Or maybe... something else. What would you do, Leo, if monsters could think? If they could feel?

Leo was speechless. Leo looked down. He thought of the goblins. Of the blood. Of his fear. Of his fury. He also remembered the stories he had read. Eilith, the Wind Hunter, who fell in love with a monster she couldn't kill.

"I don't know..." he said at last. His voice was barely a whisper. "But I want to know."

"Then keep training."