DanMachi: It's destined to lose its self.

Kopii slowly and unsteadily rose from the cold stones, his body aching and his head ringing like a funeral bell, emphasizing the weight of the memories flooding back. He ran a hand over his face, feeling the disgusting roughness of dried blood and ingrained dirt that seemed almost tangible. The alley around him was silent, with only the distant hum of the market reaching him, reminding him of the life seething behind him, but this silence pressed down on him like an approaching storm, foreshadowing imminent misfortune and dangers he could only guess at.

He looked around, trying to piece together the fragments of his memories into a whole, as if from a broken mirror. The woman in the shop, her fake smile, the amulet that disappeared like a mirage. The hooded man, the gleaming dagger, the dance with death in which Kopii barely survived. Too real to be a mere accident, and too sinister to be a truth that could simply be forgotten.

"They're in cahoots," he whispered, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white, as if trying to control the raging emotions within him. His fingers trembled, not from fear, but from the seething rage that pierced his soul. He had been trusting, but absolutely not blind. He had no idea where he was, his clothes were dirty, worn and soaked in blood, and the cold and approaching night squeezed him in their grip like the relentless grasp of fate.

He needed to run. Staying here was tantamount to signing the death warrant destined for him in this bleak world. Kopii listened. The noise of the market sounded closer, beckoning with its life and at the same time scaring with its chaos. He moved in its direction, creeping along the damp walls like a ghost, trying to blend in with the shadows that seemed to be his only allies. Every rustle made him flinch, every shadow seemed like the figure of a murderer, waiting for him around the corner, ready to plunge him back into nightmares.

And then he burst into the market square. The bright light of torches, the deafening noise of voices, the intoxicating smell of roast meat - all this crashed down on him after the darkness of the alley, like a blow to the head with a blunt object. Kopii was overwhelmed by disorientation, which came like a hostile enemy. He looked around, trying to understand where he was, in what part of this living and bustling world. The architecture of the buildings was unfamiliar, as were the faces of the passers-by, flashing like ghosts. He was in a strange city, alone, wounded and betrayed, like a weary traveler left without a roof over his head. He needed to survive at all costs. "I need to become… stronger," Kopii remembered how the woman fleetingly spoke of the need to go down into the dungeons and receive… some mysterious "theology of God." What did she call it? Falna… Grace, sometimes referred to as a blessing, bestowed by Gods and Goddesses upon members of their families. The thought that he needed to join someone's family to become stronger again filled his mind.

Kopii stepped into the surging flow of the market crowd, his body tense like a bowstring, ready to fire at any moment. Every glance thrown in his direction seemed sharper than a dagger, piercing his defense. He felt his wounds throb, reminding him of the recent battle, but he couldn't afford to stop, no doubts or hesitations. His goal was clear - to find someone who could bring him into the family of gods. Falna Grace. That became his only salvation. Kopii made his way through the crowd, looking for any signs that might indicate the presence of Falna. He listened to snippets of conversations, peered into people's faces, trying to catch some hint of a divine connection. Merchants were calling out to customers, children were running between the stalls with squeals, street musicians were playing simple melodies that merged with the hum of life. All this seemed so alien and unimportant compared to his own desperate and relentless struggle for survival in this cruel world.

Kopii somehow found an utterly brazen path to the right, went into a dark alley to rest and tidy himself up, because he was exhausted. Sitting down on the cold pavement, he felt the piercing wind prick his skin, as if this whole world was against him. "My luck couldn't be worse," he thought with bitterness and sadness. "Not even a day has passed since I was robbed and beaten." He was already ready to fall into an anxious sleep when suddenly an elderly woman approached him, unexpectedly emerging from the shadows. Her black hair was gathered in a neat bun on the top of her head, and her thin, old-fashioned face glowed with kindness and care.

"Hello, boy," she said softly, her voice sounding like a message from a distant comfort. "I see you need help. Will you come with me? My name is Maria Martel, and what is your name?"

Kopii froze, cautiously peering into her face, trying to read her intentions. Distrust fought with desperate hope in his heart. Finally, he squeezed out, as if looking for a saving thread of communication:

"Kopii. My name is Kopii."

Maria smiled, and her eyes warmed, as if instilling hope.

"Kopii, then. Come, I have a warm hearth and some food. You'll tell me what happened to you, and we'll try to fix everything."

She held out her hand to him, and Kopii, after a moment's hesitation, accepted it with gratitude. The warmth of her palm seemed to him the salvation in this strange and hostile world that he had always sought but could never find. He got up, feeling his wounds respond with pain, but next to Maria, fear and anxiety began to recede, giving way to serenity and hope.

They walked for a long time, as if endlessly. The further they went, the darker the streets became, the houses looked abandoned and desolate, like gloomy ghosts, full of unnecessary history. Kopii couldn't stand it and asked, rummaging through his thoughts:

"Where are we going?"

Maria, after a pause, replied with a gentle, insistent calmness:

"To my orphanage. It's a place where we help those in need."

"And where is it located?"

"On Daedalus Street."

"What is that area?"

"Daedalus Street is a vast residential area for the poor of Orario. It was designed by an eccentric man known as Daedalus, who possessed a wildly disordered mind. Due to numerous redevelopments, this area is quite confusing, like a web."

"I see," Kopii muttered, sadly and a little bitterly thinking that he was again facing a miserable existence full of difficulties.

Maria led Kopii through narrow, dirty streets, where the walls of the houses, like closing jaws, pressed with their narrowness, like merciless guards. The air was thick with the smells of rot and dampness, penetrating his lungs, disgustingly harmonizing with his inner state. Kopii felt his body treacherously tremble under the influence of all these sensations, but he gritted his teeth, not wanting to appear weak and out of place in this place. His wounds ached, every step echoed with pain, as if it was unnatural, but he walked, because he simply had no other choice. He was fighting not only the distance, but also himself.

"You look like you've been run over by a cart," Maria said, her voice sounded soft, but there was something alarming in her eyes, indicating her concern. "What happened, boy? You can tell me."

Kopii was silent, his lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't know if he could trust this woman, but her warmth and care seemed to be the only light in his dark life, the only thing he could cling to in this chaos.

"It doesn't matter," he muttered finally, trying his best to hide his despair that had gripped him. "Just… a bad day, no matter how you look at it."

Maria did not insist, showing her kindness. She just nodded and continued to lead him, her steps were confident, as if she knew every crack on these pavements, as it was once, full of confidence. They came to a wide square, surrounded by dilapidated buildings, where shadows moved as if alive, dancing with fear between memories. Kopii felt a chill run down his spine. Something was wrong here, but he couldn't understand what, as if a veil of fate concealed the true.

"Here we are," Maria said, pointing to a tall building with peeling plaster, which was very different from everything he had seen. "This is my orphanage. Here you can rest and find protection from the outside world."

He asked her how many children there were, with hope in his heart.

"Many," Maria replied with optimism. "Here you won't feel as lonely as before."

A week passed. At first, the children shied away from him, watching cautiously and curiously, but gradually Kopii made friends. It seemed to him that he was the oldest of the children in this chaotic game of fate; he was thirteen years old now, and he had experienced many hardships. The oldest here was nine-year-old Rai, a human boy with chestnut hair that was perpetually out of place. His skin was covered in small cuts from constant playing outside, which added to his character. Rai was friendly and quickly befriended Kopii after hearing his sad story. He became his first friend who understood. Rai also dreamed of becoming an adventurer, like the heroes of his favorite books. Then he met a girl named Fina. Fina has long, waterfall-like straight cream-colored hair, and she has ears and a tail like a cute little animal. She is very open and says whatever comes to mind, without thinking about the consequences or formalities.

There, Kopii met Sir, and they quickly became friends, forming a strong bond of friendship. She is sixteen years old and has already seen quite a bit in her short life. She has bluish-gray hair tied in a ponytail, and eyes of the same unusual color. Her skin is fair, with a peach tint, like rays of sunshine. She behaves cheerfully and good-naturedly, usually being slightly mischievous, and sometimes scaring others jokingly with ease. Kopii didn't trust her 100%, even though he liked her as a person. Sir helped the orphanage and Maria Martel herself to take care of the children, as if serving as their protector. She said that she works as a waitress at "The Hostess of Fertility," as he understood it, a pub where various people with their stories gather. He didn't know anything more about her, and that didn't reassure him, but at least this small fragment about her life gave him some clue about hope.