It was a cloudy day, filled with distant chatter and laughter. On the outskirts of the lively city—where joy echoed faintly like a memory—stood a teenager beneath a willow tree.
His blood-red hair fell in messy strands over his forehead, and his crimson eyes reflected the gray sky above. Shadows stretched beneath him, long and soft, cast by the swaying branches overhead.
Wearing a gray sweater and black sweatpants, Ester stood beneath the willow tree, its long, curtain-like branches swaying gently around him. His raven-black backpack hung from one shoulder, weighed down not just by supplies but by intent.
"After staying in that hellhole of a house... I finally escaped—with my wound healed," he whispered to himself, his voice flat, almost detached.
He knelt down in the grass, unzipped his backpack, and pulled out a small silver box cutter. The blade clicked into place with a soft snap.
Just a few feet away, a squirrel paused beneath the shade, nibbling on something it had scavenged. Its ears twitched, but it didn't sense the danger.
Ester's crimson eyes narrowed.
Then—shhhk.
He slid the blade clean across his wrist, just deep enough. Sharp pain pulsed instantly, but he didn't flinch. He simply let the blood pour, watching as it dripped from his fingertips and hit the grass with soft plips.
And then—it moved.
His blood slithered across the ground unnaturally, pooling into thin strands, dancing in the air like marionette strings made of crimson silk.
"...Please forgive me," he murmured, eyes dim.
The blood whipped forward.
A quiet thud followed. The squirrel's tiny body jerked, impaled through the upper torso. Its mouth was frozen mid-squeak. Lifeless.
Ester approached it in silence, crouching down. He reached out with a gloved hand and gently picked it up, careful not to crush it. The warmth was already fading from its fur.
"Sorry..." he whispered again, though his voice betrayed no regret—just exhaustion.
He turned and walked back to the willow tree, its presence like a guardian watching over something grim.
Kneeling at its base, he set the squirrel down beside him and opened a side pocket on his backpack.
"Now..." he said, more to the wind than himself. "Let me grab my plastic bag."
His hand fished around until his fingers touched the smooth surface of a folded ziplock bag.
"Ack... damn, this pain still hurts no matter what," Ester snickered under his breath, wincing as he grabbed a clean rag from his backpack and wrapped it tightly around his wrist.
His gaze dropped to the lifeless squirrel lying in the grass. Without hesitation, he flicked the box cutter open again and sliced into the squirrel's body. Warm blood began to pool beneath it.
This is disgusting… but I need to do this, he thought grimly.
Carefully, he tilted the squirrel, letting the blood drain into the small plastic bag he held steady in one hand. His face was tense, eyes unblinking, forcing himself not to gag.
Bsss.
He froze.
Something stirred in the nearby brush. Leaves shifted. Twigs cracked softly.
Ester's head snapped up. He dropped the squirrel with a wet thud and turned quickly, ready to remove his rag and weaponize the blood again if needed.
A shadow stepped out from the bushes.
Meow.
A cat.
Ester blinked.
It stepped closer—slender, elegant, with soft yellow fur and piercing golden-yellow eyes that seemed to gleam unnaturally under the overcast light.
Ester stared. "…Do cats normally have golden eyes like that?" he muttered, unsettled.
But after a moment, he shook it off. Probably just a weird stray. He turned back to his task, ignoring the feline as he resumed slicing into the squirrel's body to extract what little blood remained.
His stomach churned at the sight. The open flesh. The smell. The mess. But he didn't stop.
He couldn't stop.
This was the only experiment he could run. The only way to understand his quirk.
Finally, the blood ceased to flow. The squirrel's body was dry, pale, limp.
Ester leaned back, wiping sweat from his brow, when he heard it again—
Purr…
Then, more curious.
Meow?
He turned slowly.
The cat hadn't left.
It was still watching.
Still staring—with those eyes that felt… too human.
Does it want the body? Ester thought as the cat got closer and wound around his leg with its tail up.
He didn't know what to do. The cat was still watching him—quiet, unmoving, like it was waiting.
After a moment, Ester sighed and looked back at the squirrel.
"…Fine," he muttered.
He carefully sliced away the fur-covered skin, making sure not to leave any hair behind. Then, with practiced precision, he began carving thin strips of meat from the squirrel's side, avoiding the organs as best he could. His hands moved quickly, but not carelessly—he wanted it to be clean, safe… edible.
He placed the small cuts of meat on a clean wrapper from his bag and slowly set it down a few feet away from the cat.
"There. It's not much… but it's something," he whispered, watching the feline carefully. "Take it or leave it."
As the cat walked toward the meat, it began eating hungrily—tearing into the strips without hesitation.
Ester stared for a moment, then turned his head away, guilt tugging faintly at his chest.
"Now… let's test this quirk," he muttered, standing. "Let's see if I can control another animal's blood…"
He opened the bag containing the squirrel's blood, the liquid dark and still slightly warm. Holding his hands out, he focused—eyes narrowed, breath held.
Nothing.
He tried again, pushing all thoughts out of his head. Cleared his mind. Reached deep into whatever instinct had let him move his own blood before.
Still… nothing.
Silence.
Just the quiet rustle of wind and the soft chewing from the cat nearby.
Ester's hands trembled slightly.
Did… I just kill an innocent animal… for nothing?
His thoughts spiraled—shame rising in his throat.
Then—he paused.
A sound.
A man's voice.
"Stupid kid, that's not how you do it."
The voice came out of nowhere—raspy, low, and laced with irritation. Ester flinched, his eyes snapping toward the trees behind him.
No one.
The wind rustled the leaves. The air was still.
Maybe I'm just hearing things, he thought.
"Kid! Down here!"
Ester froze. Slowly, stiffly, he lowered his gaze… and locked eyes with the golden-eyed stray cat.
"…A cat?" he whispered, his voice shaky with disbelief.
The feline licked its paw lazily, then looked up at him with a sharp glint in its eyes.
"CAT?! How dare you!" the creature snapped, voice suddenly booming with bizarre clarity. "I am the MOST AMAZING BEING in the ENTIRE WORLD! You DARE reduce me to just 'a cat'? Blasphemy!"
Ester's jaw dropped.
Then he screamed.
He scrambled backward and fell flat on his back, staring at the talking cat like it was some kind of cursed spirit. His heart thundered in his chest.
"No—nope—no way, I've officially lost my mind!" he gasped, pointing. "Cats aren't supposed to talk!"
The cat gave an offended huff and sat down, tail flicking with annoyance.
"Well, maybe if you used your quirk properly, I wouldn't have to waste my breath correcting you," it said, calmly licking its paw again. "But here we are. You're butchering squirrels like an idiot, and I had to step in."
Ester's voice cracked. "WHAT are you?!"
"I already told you," the cat said with a smug grin. "The most amazing being in the world."
"Amazing being… Ha…ha… yeah, I must be hallucinating after my failed attempt," Ester muttered, blinking at the yellow-eyed stray.
He shook his head, trying to come back to his senses—until SMACK.
Something pawed him hard across the cheek.
"Ow—what the hell?!"
The cat sat there with its paw raised, a judgmental look in its glowing eyes.
"Hmph. Stupid human," it sniffed. "You're not hallucinating. As you can clearly see, I am a great, magnificent being—unfortunately trapped in this horrendous feline body!"
The cat spat the word like venom, flicking its tail dramatically as if offended by its own existence.
Ester groaned and slowly pushed himself up from the ground, still rubbing his stinging cheek.
"You? A great being?" he muttered, wincing. "This has gotta be a joke…" He eyed the creature cautiously. "But… what do you mean I did it wrong?"
Despite still being in shock, Ester tried to maintain his composure, forcing himself to focus past the absurdity of a talking, slapping cat.
The cat sighed—an exaggerated, heavy thing full of disappointment—and leapt onto a nearby rock, eyes narrowing down at Ester like a teacher scolding a lazy student.
"You don't just slice a squirrel and hope something happens. You think quirks tied to blood just happen to work because you spilled a little?" The cat huffed. "You're not channeling it, you're just bleeding. There's no will in it. No command. No structure. You're wasting your potential—and my time."
Ester stared, eyes widening. "...My potential?"
The cat's grin turned sly.
"Exactly. And lucky for you... I've decided to teach you. Be grateful to me, THE MOST AMAZING BEING IN THE WORLD IS TEACHING YOU!" The cat chuckled as he laughed.
Ester sighed, lost in thought. His shoulders slumped as exhaustion began to creep in.
Quietly, he packed up the box cutter, sealed the blood-filled plastic bag, and reached into his backpack for a half-empty water bottle. He twisted off the cap and poured a bit over his hands, rubbing them together to rinse off the sticky blood.
"A talking cat claiming it's the most powerful being in the world? Yeah, no thanks—I'm not buying it." He narrowed his eyes, wiping his hands dry with a rag. "You're probably just some quirk user messing with me… a prank, right?"
He paused.
The cat tilted its head, smug and unbothered.
But before Ester could take another breath, the ground beneath him cracked like glass.
WHUMPH.
A swirling black void erupted beneath his feet, shadows slithering upward like hungry hands.
"Wha—?!" Ester barely had time to react as the darkness surged, swallowing his legs first, then his torso.
"HEY! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!" he shouted, arms flailing as the world blurred around him.
The cat sat calmly at the edge of the void, tail flicking lazily.
"You were saying something about not trusting me?" it purred.
And then everything went black.
BUMP.
Ester landed hard—but thankfully, the ground beneath him was soft, cushioning the fall. His back took the brunt of the impact, sparing his head. Groaning, he sat up, dazed.
"You humans are inferior!" the cat's voice rang out above him, sharp with arrogance. "Hmph! Don't lump me in with those so-called 'quirk users'—I am far beyond such petty tricks! But no matter... I'll show you why you should trust me… MEHEHEHE!"
The cat's laughter swelled like thunder as the black void around them began to twist and change.
In an instant, the shadows melted away—replaced by shimmering golden light.
Ester's breath caught in his throat.
They now stood in a vast golden realm, stretching beyond the horizon. Mountains of treasure—glittering coins, jeweled goblets, ancient artifacts—filled the space as if it had existed for millennia. The air shimmered, heavy with the scent of something divine and dangerous. Smoke billowed in coils above Ester's head, crackling with strange energy.
"W-What... what is this place?" Ester whispered, his voice barely audible as he turned in a slow circle, wide-eyed.
A low snicker cut through the air.
"WELCOME TO MY SPACE!" the cat roared. "I am Velquor—the Great Being! The Supreme Existence! Your new master… and the one who shall end all things when the time comes!"
As the words echoed, the cat's body began to transform before Ester's eyes.
Fur vanished. Limbs lengthened. His form grew taller—powerful.
Golden, wavy hair tumbled down his back, reaching his waist in radiant curls. His eyes gleamed like twin suns—sharp, feline, and full of fire. His skin was a deep, rich brown, like polished earth kissed by starlight. His face was sharp and defined—cheekbones high, jaw firm, lips thin and shaped like they belonged on a ruler's statue.
And his body… broad and mighty. His chest rippled with muscle, abs carved like stone, arms thick and built like a seasoned warrior's. The very air around him shimmered with pressure and heat.
Ester stared up at the divine figure, mouth slightly open.
"…You were the cat?"
Velquor twitched, his eye narrowing in irritation. "Tch. That ridiculous form was just for the human world—nothing but a cursed vessel," he muttered, brushing a hand through his golden hair with disdain. "I was bewitched by someone… someone powerful. But as the years—or maybe decades—passed, I never found him."
Then, with a sudden flourish, he spread his arms wide, striking a pose. "But behold—my true form! Glorious, radiant, divine! Handsome, right?" he added with heavy sarcasm, his smirk wicked.
Ester stood frozen, blinking as golden sparkles shimmered around him in the vast, endless space. He glanced up at Velquor and said carefully, "…Yeah, uh, Velquor? If you're such a powerful being, why'd you drop me into your space like this?"
He kept his voice steady—not too scared, not too angry. He really didn't want to die here, especially young and still a virgin.
Velquor smiled creepily and said,
"Because some pesky humans are walking your way. Hphm, they seem very, very hostile towards you, you brat!"
He ran a hand through his long blond hair, the golden strands shimmering even in the dim light. The throne beneath him was carved from dark stone, adorned with twisted runes that pulsed faintly with ancient power. He settled onto it with a lazy grace, his piercing yellow eyes narrowing as they studied Ester.
"Though… I wonder how someone so young could have made enemies already. Haha! It's almost impressive… or foolish."
Smoke curled around his feet, filling the endless golden chamber with an eerie haze. The coins scattered across the floor glittered faintly like stars in the dark, but no light could reach the shadows in his eyes—shadows that promised power, danger, and perhaps salvation.
"Enemies? I've never met anyone except the... Haah," Ester muttered to himself, piecing it together. He did it, the thought sharpened in his mind.
Velquor's golden eyes gleamed with curiosity as he leaned forward slightly.
"Brat, did you actually figure out who's behind it? What if I lied to you?" His voice was teasing but held an edge of menace. He waited patiently, watching Ester's reaction closely.
"Even if you lied, I'll figure it out sooner or later. That bastard still hates me for no good reason—this shitty stepbrother of mine." Ester said, completely forgetting he was still in Velquor's space.
Velquor's golden eyes narrowed, a slow, amused smile curling his lips. "Hmph. Such bitterness in one so young. I like that spirit."
He leaned forward on his throne, the shadows around him flickering like restless flames.
"You carry grudges well—perhaps that fire will fuel your power. But be warned, brat, vengeance can consume even the strongest souls."
Ester met Velquor's gaze steadily, the sharp sting of his words only hardening his resolve.
"I have no grudge against a boy like him. It bothers me why he hates me so much." Ester said quietly, his eyes darkening with confusion and frustration.
Velquor chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound echoing through the golden hall. "Boy? Aren't you young? But never mind that. He hates you, huh? Tell me, brat… did you do something to deserve that hate?"
Ester stared into Velquor's eyes and said, "Yes, but I won't tell you until… you teach me how to control other animal blood." His voice sounded cocky and confident, but deep down he was still scared.
Velquor's golden eyes narrowed, a sly grin curling on his lips. "Hmph, clever brat. You want power before trust. Very well, I like that spirit."
He waved a hand, and the golden room shifted, revealing ancient runes glowing softly on the walls. "To control the blood of others, you must first understand its nature—its will, its flow, its strength."
The smoke around Ester thickened, swirling into shapes of animals—wolves, birds, snakes—all shimmering with blood-red light.
"Focus," Velquor commanded. "Reach out with your mind. Feel the life force in them. Only then will you bend their blood to your will."
Ester took a deep breath, heart pounding, and reached out into the swirling forms…
__
Hm? Oh, I think this is a long pace, oh well. MUAHAHhaha, I will show you guys what velquor looks like soon or never.
So tired