The sky over the capital was not blue. It was the color of a dying ember—a deep, bruised violet that signaled the presence of the Great Reamite Siphon. High above the marble spires of the Pioneer's Magic Academy, the atmospheric pressure felt like an invisible hand pressing the breath out of every commoner in the streets.
"Don't look up, Alexa," a soft voice whispered.
Vanessa Walker knelt in the dirt of their small garden, her hands stained with soil and the juice of a crushed apple. Even in her tattered rags, she carried a glow that no amount of poverty could dim. To a boy of six, she was the world. To the Heavens, she was a fugitive.
"Why is the sun turning black, Mama?" the young Alexa asked, his voice trembling as he clutched his wooden practice sword.
Vanessa didn't answer immediately. She looked at her son—at the eyes that held a flicker of something far deeper and darker than the "Solar Light" she had tried so hard to pass down to him. She felt the Dormant Darkness inside him stirring, responding to the coldness in the sky.
"The gods are hungry again," she finally said, her voice like cracking glass. "They have forgotten that light was meant to be shared, not hoarded."
Suddenly, the air turned static. The birds went silent. From the shadow of a nearby oak tree, a man stepped out. He moved like smoke, his face hidden behind a tattered hood. His presence didn't feel like the oppressive weight of the Academy; it felt like a cold, comforting embrace.
"Vanessa," the man said. His voice was a rasping echo. "The Watchers have crossed the Veil. Odin's eye is fixed on this house. You have to leave. Now."
"Uncle Shadow!" Alexa cheered, running toward the man. But the man didn't hug him. He kept his hand on the hilt of a blade that seemed to be made of solidified night.
Vanessa stood up, wiping her hands on her apron. She looked at the sky, where a golden tear was forming in the fabric of reality. "It's too late, Brother. If I run, they'll track the resonance. They'll find the boy."
She turned to Alexa, her expression suddenly fierce. She grabbed his small shoulders, her fingers glowing with a light so bright it made the boy wince.
"Listen to me, Alexa Walker," she commanded. "The world will tell you that you are nothing. The Academy will tell you that you are a dud. Your own blood will tell you that you are a monster. But you are a Walker. You belong to no realm and no god."
She leaned in, whispering into his ear as the first golden lightning strike hit the town square a mile away.
"Inside you, there is a door. Never open it until you are ready to burn the Heavens down to find your way home."
With a violent shove, she pushed Alexa toward the man in the shadows. "Take him, Shadow. Strip your divinity. Hide in the mud. Make him look like a commoner. Make him look... weak."
"Vanessa, no—" Shadow started, but the sky opened.
A pillar of pure, blinding gold descended, obliterating the garden. Alexa felt a hand catch him, pulling him into a freezing darkness just as he saw his mother's silhouette disappear into the light. She wasn't screaming. She was standing tall, her own light clashing against the divine pillar until everything went white.
Ten Years Later
Alexa Walker sat at a scarred wooden desk in the back of a dusty classroom. His eyes were dull, his hair unkempt, and his mana-signature was so low the testing crystals barely registered his presence.
Across the room, his step-brother Fredreck was surrounded by laughing sycophants, showing off a flicker of flame between his fingers.
"Look at him," Fredreck sneered, gesturing toward Alexa. "The son of a runaway and a sick man. A total waste of the Walker name."
Alexa didn't look up. He didn't blink. He just stared at the back of his hand, where a faint, invisible line of text began to shimmer in the air—a screen only he could see.
[DAILY QUEST: FORGE THE MORTAL VESSEL]
[Progress: 29.5 / 30.0 KM]
[Time Remaining: 00:04:59]
He felt his heart stutter, the "Stardust Decay" poison in his father's veins weighing on his mind like a mountain. He stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"Where are you going, dud?" the teacher barked.
Alexa didn't answer. He had 500 meters left to run, or his heart would stop. As he walked out of the room, the shadows beneath his feet seemed to ripple, and for a split second, the temperature in the room dropped to freezing.
The war hadn't started yet. But the clock was ticking.