When Kairos was small, his mother would sit by his bed every night and tell him the ancient story.
Long ago, the sky tore open and Dungeons poured into the world. Vast gates to realms ruled by god-like entities. For six terrible years, humanity fought the Great War.
Cities burned. Bloodlines were nearly wiped out. In the end, the humanity and their awakened heroes barely sealed the rifts.
Before the God of Dungeons vanished, it delivered its prophecy:
"A thousand years from this day, the seals will shatter. The fallen shall be reborn in greater wrath. Yet one marked by Fate shall rise, a soul unseen in any age. Through him, the world may stand… or fall forever."
Little Kairos would clutch his blanket, silver eyes wide.
"Will the chosen one be strong, Mother?"
Liora would trace the faint silver rune on his collarbone, the strange birthmark no healer could explain, and smile softly.
"Stronger than anyone, my little star. But the strongest always pay the highest price."
She never told him what that price would be.
***
One year later. Age seven.
The central market of the Voss capital was alive with noise and color. Merchants shouted, airships hummed overhead, children laughed.
Kairos held his mother's hand tightly as they walked.
Then the world shattered.
Mana particles ignited like blazing suns. Every emotion from every stranger stabbed into his mind, sharp, overwhelming threads of intent.
Sounds became thunder. Colors burned his brain. He saw too much. The vibrations between atoms, the branching possibilities of every movement.
He collapsed screaming, hands clawing at his eyes, blood streaming down his cheeks.
"It's too bright! Everything's screaming! Make it stop, Mother!"
People gathered, whispering. Liora dropped to her knees, shielding him with her body.
"Kairos, breathe! I'm here!"
The pain was endless. Healers later confirmed it. His psychic perception had awakened far too early and far too strongly. The overload threatened to destroy his mind and his physical sight.
In desperation, Liora pulled a strip of black relic silk from her pouch. Cloth salvaged from a sealed dungeon fragment, woven with powerful suppression runes.
She wrapped it gently around his eyes, tying it firmly.
The burning stopped. The screaming light vanished completely.
But so did everything else.
With the blindfold on, Kairos could see nothing. Absolute darkness. His normal eyesight was completely sealed by the relic's power.
Yet something new emerged.
Through his psychic sense, he could feel the world. Vague shapes of mana flow, the rough outlines of people and objects as glowing currents and pressures.
Enough to navigate, to avoid walls, to know when someone approached.
But no detail, no color, no faces.
He was truly blind now.
Liora held him as he cried.
"I can't see you, Mother…"
She stroked his hair.
"You will again one day, my love. When you're strong enough to control it. Until then, this will protect you."
From that day, the blindfold became his prison and his shield, and the world labeled him blind.
Children mocked him openly. Clan elders dismissed him as broken. Even allies pitied him.
"A blind child as heir? Impossible."
But he adapted.
With the blindfold on, he honed his psychic sense to razor sharpness. Mapping surroundings by mana echoes, predicting movements by intent threads, fighting by pure instinct.
Without it, the overload returned. Blinding mana particles, overwhelming flows, visible people as blazing silhouettes of energy.
He could see, truly see faces, colors, the world, but only for short bursts before pain and disorientation forced the blindfold back on.
He never let anyone witness those moments. Let them believe he was helpless. It made victory sweeter.
***
Five years later.
The Alliance Academy preliminary awakening ceremony.
All children of the Three Great Families between ages twelve and eighteen were tested for early resonance.
Elara Veyne stepped to the altar first among the top prospects.
She had been raised differently.
From the moment she could speak, her father, the Veyne Clan Head, had told her she was special. Portraits of Kael Veyne lined every hall. Statues of him burning demon lords stood in every courtyard.
"You are his direct reincarnation," her father said nightly. "Your flames will surpass even his. When the Dungeons return, you will be the one the prophecy speaks of. The savior who burns away the darkness."
She trained until her hands blistered and healed, until she collapsed from exhaustion. Isolated, no friends, only duty.
She believed it completely. It was her entire existence.
When her hands touched the altar, crimson fire erupted. Pure, controlled, hotter than any child's flame should be. A phantom silhouette of Kael Veyne flickered behind her.
"Perfect inheritance resonance! Crimson Sovereign Flames. One hundred percent purity match to Hero Kael Veyne!"
Veyne elders wept. The hall cheered.
Elara stood tall, silver-white hair glowing, crimson eyes proud.
Proof.
Then came Kairos Voss.
The blind boy everyone pitied or mocked, led forward by a guide, hands outstretched, touched the altar.
The stone cracked. Silver psychic energy exploded outward. Pressure forced elders to brace. Monitoring crystals shattered.
"Psychic dominance mutation. Purity unmeasurable. Highest early resonance ever recorded!"
Guided back, Kairos casually pulled his collar aside, letting someone describe the glowing silver rune to the hall.
The Alliance elder's voice carried.
"The Mark of Fate's Arbiter. Exact match to the prophecy records."
The cheers for Elara died.
Murmurs spread.
"A blind child?" "The prophecy can't mean a cripple."
Elara's fists clenched, flames flickering wildly.
The next six years became war.
Every tournament, every ranking, they clashed.
Elara dominated with flawless flames, crowds adoring the beautiful heiress.
Kairos followed relentlessly, guided only by psychic sense. Stopping attacks before they formed, crushing opponents without seeing them.
Whispers grew.
"A blind prodigy? Impossible." "The prophecy deserves someone whole."
Elara heard them and trained harder, desperate to prove the doubt wrong.
Kairos heard them and smiled in the darkness, pushing his limits in secret. Extending the moments without the blindfold, learning to control the flood of mana particles and true sight.
He had never seen Elara's face. Only her blazing crimson mana signature. Fierce, unyielding, beautiful in its intensity.
Their rivalry consumed them.
Until the Triennial Youth Tournament finals. The greatest stage.
The day Kairos would finally see the world, and his rival, with his own eyes for the first time.