Chapter 1: The Spark Beneath the Fog
In the beginning, no one knew what triggered the change.
A pulse—a ripple in reality, invisible but undeniable—swept across the planet. It laced itself through the sky, earth, sea, and everything living between. Within days, animals began to twist and evolve. Forests moved with intent. Insects glowed with unnatural intelligence. And creatures that once hid in burrows or myths stepped out into the light, cloaked in fire, thunder, shadow.
They became known as Evolved Beasts—and they were unstoppable.
Humanity's weapons crumbled against their hides. Tanks were crushed beneath molten paws. Cities were erased from maps in hours. The golden spires of Velminth, the floating libraries of Sōrano, and the desert walls of Tazarek all fell within weeks. Even New Harmond, humanity's last tech stronghold, collapsed when its own AI defenses turned feral to buy more time.
But not all was lost.
From that chaos rose five sanctuaries—The Grand Cities—places where humans learned to adapt, build, and survive.
⚬ Iyesgarth, capital of the Arcane Union, where magic research and soulbinding schools flourished.
⚬ Kilerth, the steel fortress of the north, home to imperial Beast Courts.
⚬ Nivengarde, a storm-wrapped coast city shielded by tamed leviathans.
⚬ Daraxus, the mountain-buried forge-city where beast-warriors trained.
⚬ And Cindralis, a wandering titan-city that marched forever on the backs of living gods.
But far from their walls, in a quiet corner of the continent, there were towns like Murkwell.
"Shit—I'm late!"
Pleione jolted awake, her blankets tangled and half her hair stuck to her cheek. She scrambled upright, scanned the tiny room she shared with her familiar stack of books, and leapt out of bed with a yelp. "It's summoning day. Summoning day—oh gods."
From the kitchen, the scent of eggs and tea wafted in.
"Language!" her mother, Anita, called without turning from the stove. "You have ten minutes or you're riding the merchant cart with Old Man Jallo."
Pleione bolted down the stairs, still tugging on her second boot. "I didn't hear the bell!"
"You didn't hear me knock either," said her father, Xander, appearing from behind the curtain that separated their small sitting room from his workbench. He tossed her the charm pendant she'd forgotten. "Don't leave without this."
She caught it mid-run, slinging it around her neck. "Thanks, Dad! I'm going—!"
"Breakfast—!" Anita shouted.
Pleione snatched a slice of toast from the table. "Love you both!"
Then she was out the door, into the mist.
Murkwell was quiet that morning. Fog rolled off the fields in thick coils, curling around chimneys and weathered fences. The dirt paths, slick with dew, gleamed pale in the early light. Small wooden houses lined the hill, some glowing with candlelight, others dark—waiting.
Beyond the rise stood the Murkwell Regional Academy for Familiar Awakening, built of riverstone and wood, half swallowed by old vines. It wasn't much compared to the crystal towers of Iyesgarth, but it was all they had. And today, it mattered more than ever.
Students from Fernwyck, Rellstone, and even a few outliers from Northhollow's overflow program had gathered here. Most were nervous. Some were excited. All were watching the summoning circle at the center of the courtyard—a cracked slate of ancient stone where generations had tried, and failed, to summon greatness.
Pleione spotted Ashley, standing under the arch by the training hall. Her short black hair was slicked back, and she was already scribbling in her notebook.
"You made it," Ashley said as Pleione skidded beside her. "You look like a ghost ran you over."
"I overslept."
"I figured. Nerves?"
Pleione shrugged. "A little."
Truthfully, she wasn't sure. There was a strange feeling sitting beneath her skin. Not fear. Not excitement. Something... humming.
The bell tolled a final time. Students hushed.
From the front steps emerged Principal Harwin Kael, robed in deep blue with golden stitching along the cuffs. He looked like he'd stepped out of a history book—half wizard, half war veteran.
"Today," he said, "you call your soul forth."
His voice was calm, but powerful. "What you summon is not merely a beast, but a reflection of who you are—and who you may become."
One by one, students stepped forward. Some succeeded—summoning small familiars with glowing eyes and simple traits. Others stood in silence, their marks faint and quiet.
Then came Pleione's turn.
She stepped into the circle.
The wind stilled.
Her Mark, etched like a serpent's eye onto her left wrist, shimmered faintly. She lowered her palm, murmured the chant.
And the world blinked.
A crack of thunder split the still air. A pulse of energy radiated from the stone, and in a flash of light, a shape coiled gently into being.
A serpent.
Not just any serpent. Its scales were a deep violet laced with blue lightning. Obsidian markings glowed like circuitry along its back. Red eyes—glassy and aware—met hers.
A student gasped. "That's a B-tier—!"
"A Thunder Devouring Snake?"
"In Murkwell?!"
Pleione barely heard them. The serpent slithered forward and gently wound itself around her forearm, nestling there as if it had always belonged.
She blinked. A shimmer passed over her vision—and suddenly, text floated beside the creature:
[Species: ???]
[Age: 16 Years Old]
[Sex: Male]
[Tier: B Tier]
[Grade: Iron Grade]
Her heart skipped.
"…Why can I see this?" she whispered.
She looked around. No one else seemed to notice the text. They were still staring in awe. She steadied herself and walked back to the line, the familiar still coiled around her arm, heat thrumming through her skin like bottled lightning.
Ashley blinked at her. "You summoned a B-tier."
"You too," Pleione replied, noticing the raven perched on her friend's shoulder. Its six eyes gleamed. Mist curled off its feathers like living ink.
Pleione focused—and again, the floating text appeared.
[Species: Six-Eyed Raven]
[Age: 16 Years Old]
[Sex: Female]
[Tier: B Tier]
[Grade: Iron Grade]
The raven tilted its head, as if sensing her gaze, then blinked its eerie, multi-eyed stare.
The rest of the day blurred by in waves of congratulations and awe. The principal spoke to her. So did two visiting scholars from Iyesgarth who had been observing the circle quietly. They jotted something down in a silver journal and vanished before the final bell rang.
By the time she reached home, her heart was still racing.
She opened the door—and was immediately met by a burst of confetti.
"Surprise!" her parents shouted.
"Ohhh… you guys," she said, holding back a grin.
Her mother gasped at the familiar. "It's so beautiful."
Her father, however, took a cautious step back. "That's… a snake."
"It's a tiny snake," Anita said, smirking. "You scared?"
"Of course not. It's just... vivid."
Pleione chuckled. For the first time that day, she felt calm.
Later, after dinner and a quiet talk about everything that happened, she lay in bed. The serpent rested on her blanket, flicking its tongue at the air.
She watched it, questions swirling in her head.
Why could she see familiar data?
Why her?
She didn't have answers.
But as her eyelids grew heavy and the quiet hum of her familiar's energy lapped at her soul like distant thunder, she realized something:
This was only the beginning.