At first it was just a faint point of light, then it swelled at a frightening speed in an instant. Millions of people in the wilderness below the point of light looked up, their eyes changing from wonder to fear, and then one by one they opened their mouths as if they were shouting, but they couldn't hear the sound. All the sounds were drowned out by the white light. It descended on the ground like a giant egg, and the white sky turned into night because of its reflection, and the wind swept away the giant egg, and the earth shook silently. A catastrophe presents itself as it is in a quiet way, and the audience is itself. The light was gone, the earth, the crowd was gone, and all that could be seen in the void was the darkness of the abyss.

The world was born in obscurantism, the earth was barren and there was only the scorching sun in the sky, and then plants were born by feeding on sunlight, animals were born by feeding on plants, and fangs were born by feeding on flesh and blood. Eventually, the man who feeds on all things is born. Since then, the world has come to a standstill, and no one can feed on man, except for himself. In this race for survival, where competition is the main theme, people expand their power through clusters, and form bonds by looking for similarities above species. On top of this, nations and states were born. Since then, it has been known for its name, and people have put on various crowns for it, and then worshipped, shouted, and charged with swords under the self-made crown. Faith gives justice, and justice brings courage.

However, there will be doubters. For example, refugees suffering from hunger and cold, such as the parents of soldiers killed in war, or babies who do not know anything about the world. Immediate pain and ignorance make them wonder.

On August 15, 962, a protracted war came to an end with a magnificent explosion. Millions of soldiers were reduced to nothingness in an instant - there were no winners. The light of the explosion was like the majesty of a god, and the people who saw the white dome hundreds of kilometers away gave in. The desperate saw it as the wrath of the heavens, while the warring parties accused it of the other's cruel conspiracy. However, in any case, such a heavy blow and the pain and trauma caused by years of war and chaos have ushered in its temporary tranquility in the world. And that bewildering explosion has also been covered with legends in people's word of mouth. Over time, when the storytellers described what they called "the light that even the sun dimmed," they called it the Sun-Eater.

In the years that followed, the effects of the war faded, and the rebuilt houses, the increasingly bustling streets, and the ruddy faces of the people remained in the eyes of the people, indicating that the world was coming back to life. But what the eye can't see, like the scar left by a wound that heals, or the whisper in the dead of night. These indelible remnants are embedded in the dark corners of peaceful life like pins and needles, and when you occasionally glance up, the colic pain of the pinprick makes people avoid it. So people choose to ignore them, to hate them, to reject them. It seems that this can turn those past days into a trance nightmare, wake up and wipe a cold sweat, and everything will be over.

One evening, a lone wolf roamed in a silent wilderness. The setting sun reflected its crimson tongue and sharp fangs. The wolf had not eaten for days, and hunger had weakened it and made it even more ferocious. It looked around, its mouth whining, but all it could see was the blackened birds enjoying their food. The meat had long since rotted. The lone wolf stared at them, as if hesitating. As time passed, it gradually fell into a situation where it had no choice.

Suddenly, there was a commotion, and the wolf had never heard such a strange sound.

The wolf followed the voice, and the sound came from a pile of corpses. Like all living beings, this wolf is terrified by the unknown. However, it smelled of fresh meat from the blood that permeated it. Driven by hunger, it walked towards the pile of corpses, following the sound and smell of the carrion. Then it saw the thing. A ball of white and tender meat, clenched with two small fists, the eyes on his face were squinted, and his mouth was slightly open and he whispered.

This lone wolf is seeing a baby for the first time, although it is very familiar with "people". It had not yet understood the relationship between the ball of flesh in front of it and the corpse lying on the ground. Otherwise it will not be afraid. It stuck out its tongue and gently licked the baby's white skin. It was stained with clotted blood, but that didn't stop the wolf from feeling the tenderness beneath the rotting blood. It smelled like a wolf cub. The wolf cub had been carried on its back all along.

The lone wolf licked the baby's cheek again, realizing that he was harmless. It opened its mouth at him and stuck its teeth out. The little one, perhaps feeling the heat and humidity on his face, opened his eyes with a slit. In front of him was a large tongue and sharp fangs that glistened coldly in the afterglow. The little one has not yet learned to fear. Seeing that mouth getting closer and closer to him, he clenched the fangs with a small outstretched fist. Then, the fangs reached forward and hooked the swaddling cloth that wrapped the little one.

The lone wolf snatched the baby out of the pile of corpses and placed it on the ground. The shadows of the two of them were reflected on the ground, pulled by the setting sun that was getting lower and lower. A tender baby and a hungry beast stared at each other for a long time. The lone wolf suddenly picked up the baby and threw it on his back, and a wolf howl echoed through the wilderness.