Inside Michael's room, the dim light from the bedside lamp cast soft amber shades over the quiet space. The air felt heavy, as though the walls themselves were holding their breath. Michael sat on the bed, now wearing a simple T-shirt and trousers. The faint rustle of fabric and the soft ticking of the clock were the only sounds that dared disturb the silence.
Beside him, Luna sat close enough that their shoulders brushed. Her hand crossed over his, fingers weaving gently through his own as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Her voice came out low, almost a whisper, but trembling with questions that had lingered for too long.
"Michael," she said, her tone tender but filled with confusion, "would you mind explaining all this to me now? Why are you really here? And… why can't Aunt Luminous recognize me?"
Michael's expression changed. The warmth he usually carried faded into a shadow of seriousness. His gaze turned distant, caught somewhere between the present and a time long buried. Luna lifted her head slightly, eyes meeting his, as silence tightened around them.
For a moment, neither spoke. Only the faint hum of the night wind through the window filled the pause. Then Michael slowly turned his eyes upward, took a soft breath, and said, "It's… a long story, Luna. If I were to begin, it would be when we were little kids. When we lived in a totally different universe."
Luna blinked. Her heartbeat quickened as fragments of her childhood flashed across her mind — blurred laughter, distant starlit nights, faces she couldn't fully remember. Her eyes widened, brows drawing together. "Wait… when we were kids? Didn't you and I always play like any other children? What are you saying, Michael? Tell me everything — from the beginning."
Michael gave a slow, heavy nod. His tone softened as if he were afraid the memory itself could break if spoken too loudly. "It all started on your fifth birthday… on planet Akrox," he said, his words carrying the echo of nostalgia and pain. "You invited me and my mom. Not just us — everyone your family knew. Your mother, Cassandra, threw a grand party that day. You remember, don't you?"
Luna's lips parted, but no sound came. She tried to recall, but her memories felt like shards scattered across time. Still, she nodded faintly.
Michael's voice lowered. "When your party ended, my mom and I started heading home. That's when I saw him — one of your guests. He was standing alone in the garden. There was something about him… something that didn't feel right. Even as a kid, I could sense it. The moment our eyes met, everything… went black."
The quiet in the room deepened. Luna's hand unconsciously tightened around his as she stared at him, unable to look away. Michael's eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
"When I opened my eyes again," he continued, "I wasn't in the garden. I wasn't even in Akrox anymore. I was… somewhere else. A place completely black. Devoid of light, sound… anything."
His voice trailed off, and the room seemed to fade around them. Luna's vision blurred for a moment — and the story itself swallowed the scene whole.
A boy's breathing echoed faintly through a boundless darkness.
Michael, no older than eight, floated helplessly in a void without gravity or direction. His limbs hung weightlessly, his mind half-awake, struggling to process the emptiness around him.
"Wh… what is this place?" his small voice trembled, bouncing into the nothingness. "Is it… that weird man's work? I knew it… he was suspicious!"
He twisted around, scanning every direction — but there was no ground, no sky, not even a sense of distance. Just an infinite black stretch that swallowed every sound the moment it was born.
Minutes — or perhaps hours — passed without meaning. The boy began to drift, moving without walking, floating without falling. His heartbeat was the only rhythm left to him.
Then, something changed.
Far ahead — or maybe very near — a faint light flickered in the dark. It shimmered like a mirage, distant but calling.
Michael's eyes widened. "Light? Finally… something!"
Driven by instinct, he propelled himself toward it. The closer he came, the warmer the air became. First, a gentle heat kissed his skin — then, it grew harsher, almost suffocating. Sweat formed on his forehead, trickling down his face.
Still, he didn't stop.
The light expanded, pulsing brighter until it revealed itself — a glowing sphere, swirling with a strange mixture of blue and violet hues, spinning slowly in the dark like a miniature star.
Michael's breath caught. "What… what is that thing? Why's it so hot?"
The air around it shimmered like molten air over a desert. He could feel his skin prickling, his throat drying. Yet, something in him — fear, hope, or childish defiance — refused to back away.
He clenched his fists, muttering, "I just want to go home… back to Mom. Whatever this thing is… maybe it's a way out!"
Ignoring the heat that burned his face, he stepped closer. The temperature rose — first to pain, then to agony. His tiny arms trembled as he reached out, the tips of his fingers nearly melting from the radiant heat.
"Ahhhh! It hurts! Ughhhhhh!!!" His scream echoed into the abyss. Tears blurred his eyes, but he didn't pull back. With a broken cry, he forced his hand forward — and finally touched the sphere.
The moment his skin met its surface —
Boom.
A blinding flash exploded outward, flooding the void with violent light. The sound of crackling thunder tore through the silence, and the very air rippled like shattered glass. The shockwave threw Michael backward, spinning through nothingness as his small body convulsed in pain.
"Ahhhhh! Ughhhhhh!" he gasped, voice breaking.
The sphere pulsed again, faster now, releasing waves of energy that spiraled through the void in circular bursts.
Voooooom. Zooooom. Shhhhaaaaa—
Each pulse tore at the air like roaring thunder. Michael's fragile body was flung farther and farther, tumbling until his consciousness finally faded.
Silence returned. The sphere hovered alone in the dark, its light dimming, its rhythm steady.
After what felt like an eternity, Michael stirred. His eyes fluttered open, breath shallow. "Ugh… my body… it hurts… what's happening to me?"
As he floated there, pain coursing through his small frame, he suddenly noticed — the sphere was right in front of his face again.
He froze. "Wh… what?! How did it… move?"
The sphere hovered silently, glowing softly now. On its surface, faint letters began to shimmer, as though etched by invisible light. Michael squinted, reading aloud:
"When the memories surge,
There is a price to pay.
If the goal is achieved,
You should pray."
He frowned, lips twisting in confusion. "What kind of nonsense is that? Memories? Goal? What is this garbage supposed to mean?!"
Anger flared in his young voice. "I thought I could escape from here with this thing's help — but this sphere's just… garbage! One hell of a garbage!"
The moment the word "garbage" left his mouth — the sphere vibrated. Slowly at first, then violently, as if offended by his words.
Michael's breath hitched. "Uh… w-wait… did it just—?"
Before he could finish, the sphere drifted closer, ignoring his fear. "No… no, stay back!"
He tried to move — but couldn't. The void itself seemed to lock him in place. The sphere stopped just a hair's breadth from his forehead — then, with a flash, pressed against it.
Electricity exploded through his body. His scream was swallowed by light.
And once again — everything went dark.
* * * *
Far away, under a storm-wracked sky, the heavens burned in streaks of gold and violet lightning.
In a vast courtyard surrounded by broken marble pillars, two figures faced each other — Luminous Uraser, and the man Michael had seen at the party.
The ground trembled under their presence.
Luminous stood tall, her long silver-black gown rippling like liquid moonlight. Her hand gripped a longsword with an omega-shaped emblem at its hilt, glowing faintly in her grasp. Her eyes burned like two suns — fierce, beautiful, and terrifying.
Across from her stood the man — calm, indifferent, and unarmed. His long coat fluttered gently in the storm wind. He smiled faintly. "Hoho… so the great Luminous Uraser had a child… and didn't even invite us to the celebration? How courageous of you."
Luminous didn't move. Her expression hardened.
The man continued, "I don't know where you sent your son, but… you should know, our people are already moving. There's nowhere he can hide now. Hehehe."
Her fingers tightened around the sword's hilt, a faint glow building along its edge. 'He's not the one who sent my son away?' she thought, fury mixing with fear in her heart. 'Please be safe, Michael… wherever you are, Mommy will come to you soon.'
Then, her voice cut through the storm — calm, deadly.
"You could harm him, yes… but not after today. Because you—" she took a step forward, lightning framing her face "—are going to die here and now, Lucas."
Lucas's smirk vanished. His eyes widened in disbelief, fear flashing for the first time. "Wait— you're serious? You wouldn't dare— I'm under the protection of the—"
Luminous moved.
Her blade sliced through the air, leaving a trail of light. Lucas stumbled back, panic setting in. "Hey! Someone stop her! She's gone mad!" He fumbled in his coat, pulling out a small, glowing cube. "I… I have to run or she'll really kill me!"
He slammed his hand on the device.
Flash.
In an instant, his body dissolved into light — and reappeared miles away, deep inside a silent forest on the opposite side of the planet.
His breath came ragged. "Damn that woman… she's lost her mind." He looked up at the night sky, clutching his chest. "I need to tell them… before—"
He stopped.
The forest around him had gone completely still. Not a leaf moved. The air felt cold — too cold.
A shiver crawled down his spine. Slowly, painfully, he turned his head.
Behind him — she stood.
Luminous.
The same calm expression, the same quiet fury, as though she had been there all along. Her silver-black hair swayed gently in the wind, her blade now resting loosely at her side.
Lucas's knees nearly gave out. "H-how did you— you shouldn't even—"
Her voice came low, smooth, almost playful — but carrying the weight of death itself.
"Where do you think you're going, Lucas?" she asked, taking a slow step forward. "Why don't we… have some fun?"
Her smile curved — not warm, but terrifyingly serene.
The air trembled. The night grew darker.
And as the wind howled through the forest, the world itself seemed to hold its breath.
_______
To be continued....