James Ashlem woke up and immediately felt a great weight on his wrists. He clenched his teeth tightly as if that would somehow save him. Exhaustion hit him with an abyssal force. The worst part was that he couldn’t remember how he had ended up in that absurd place. He took a deep breath and felt even weaker.
The place was dark—so dark that it was difficult even to glimpse the slightest sliver of light. Ashlem tried to free himself from the chains again, but it was in vain due to his lack of strength. He opened his eyes as wide as he could, but the action brought no new vision.
He stayed silent, his mind focused solely on escaping. The obvious questions were already circling endlessly in his head. To make matters worse, he couldn’t remember anything—not even his own name. Perhaps something terrible had happened to him.
"Who is in this fucking place?" the Hunter shouted, but silence was his only companion for several minutes.
He paused, closed his eyes, and felt hunger gnawing at his stomach.
"Damned bastard who left me here, I have an enormous craving to eat a whole cow and then beat the crap out of the piece of shit who tied me up, because he doesn't know that I am..." the man thought, but his thought died when he realized he no longer knew his own name, his memories had abandoned his mind. "Damn it, I can't even remember my own name."
"Who is in this fucking place?" he shouted again, then his head slumped weakly to the ground.
He couldn’t feel his feet or other parts of his body and sensed that he had lost his vision completely, perhaps due to the total absence of light.
Suddenly, footsteps—someone’s or something’s—approached the place where Ashlem was imprisoned, and he listened with a glimmer of hope. Hunger was so overwhelming that he was on the verge of losing consciousness. The door creaked open and the lights flicked on, revealing a very tall, thin man with ashen skin.
Ashlem was seated in a chair that looked more like a throne, his wrists shackled with burnt-chocolate-colored chains. The chains extended to the floor, also binding his ankles, but all in a way that seemed almost inhuman. He lifted his head with difficulty, as if his afro hairstyle weighed several kilos, and looked at the man who was clearly entertained by his suffering.
His voluminous hair looked like a wild crown—a blend of power and resilience. Each strand seemed to vibrate with its own life, as if his afro were a manifestation of his untamable strength. The wooden chair creaked under the mass of his powerful body, muscles pressing against the tight golden shirt, revealing years of accumulated strength. The chains on his wrists and ankles looked fragile compared to his magnitude. That exuberant, almost chaotic hair, paired with dark brown eyes cold as ice—eyes that, despite exhaustion, remained fixed, analyzing every movement with the patience of a predator—was a crown of threatening presence.
"I hope you've brought me a whole cow and some wine so I can recover and wipe out your shitty race," said Ashlem.
"That wouldn't be very wise. Look at this space," said the man calmly, staring him down.
"And who the fuck are you to deny me a simple little lunch?"
"If you moderated your language, maybe we could have a decent conversation."
"I'm not in need of conversation, I'm in need of food."
"Be careful how you speak to me. You don't know who you're dealing with."
"Alright, alright... I surrender," he said, laughing.
"That's better. Before I bring you your food, let me introduce myself properly."
"If it were up to me, you'd give me the food first, then we'd talk later."
"Nero is my name, and I am here to use your strength to achieve my goals."
"Nero?"
"Yes, Nero: The Devourer of Souls," said Nero with a vehemence that betrayed his ambition.
Ashlem looked at the man and suddenly cracked a smile at the corners of his lips, the smile of a madman.
"Interesting, but will I still get my whole cow?" said Ashlem, and immediately after, his stomach growled audibly.
Nero turned, presenting his back to the Hunter, revealing his massive black sword that seemed to pulse with darkness around its hilt and throughout its intricate design.
"I will be stronger than anyone after I drain all your energy," Nero said, gesturing with his right hand and closing his fist.
"But couldn't you do that after giving me my last meal?"
"Hunger turns you into a useless man, Hunter," said Nero.
After hearing "Hunter," Ashlem questioned himself: "So I am a Hunter? What the hell is going on here?"
Time didn’t have to pass much longer before a tall woman with a curvy body and dark skin entered the small room, carrying a tray full of various meats and a bottle of wine, just as Ashlem had asked.
"Finally, someone understands what I need," said Ashlem.
"Well, I'll be back soon. Now is your time to feed so you can die with dignity. And don't ask me how you're going to eat your meal."