.
.
.
.
The sun slowly rose, giving light to end the dark night, waking up all the living that had close their eyes in deep slumber, except for one. The one who doesn't sleep nor dreams, but takes the quiet black night as his second home, where nobody could interrupt him from entering his own world, the world of new ideas and discoveries this world had never seen.
On top of a cold snowy mountain, where many giant white furry yetis lay dead with large chunks of the mountain destroyed. There he was, his silver hair waving from the cold snowy breeze with his eyes closed, his mind and body still in a meditative state.
The mana surrounding him being somehow diverse. Different from all the normal humans, making it some way, unique and divine, forcing even the birds and small animals to gaz
