— Earth
A young man, around twenty, stretched lazily, yawning as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The morning light filtered through the thin curtains of his small rented apartment, casting a soft golden glow over the modest room. With a sigh, he shuffled toward the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the quiet space as he began his morning routine.
He had lived alone for as long as he could remember. Growing up in an orphanage, he learned how to fend for himself early. Now, through sheer determination and relentless effort, he had earned a place at a well-regarded university. Life wasn't easy, but thanks to government subsidies, he could at least afford three meals a day—most of the time.
A gentle brush against his leg pulled him from his thoughts.
"Mm… Niuniu, you're awake too?" he murmured, glancing down at the black-and-white cat weaving affectionately around his ankles.
"Meow~"
A small chuckle escaped him as he bent down to scratch behind her ears. "Hungry? Alright, let's get you fed."
With a piece of bread clenched between his teeth, he moved sluggishly to the storage container, scooping out cat food and pouring it into the dish. The sound of dry kibble clattering into the bowl sent Niuniu eagerly trotting over, her tail flicking in contentment.
"I'm heading out, Niuniu. Don't go running off today, alright?"
He quickly changed into fresh clothes, slung his backpack over one shoulder, and slipped on his headphones. As he stepped out of the apartment, the crisp morning air greeted him, carrying with it the distant hum of the waking city.
"Yo, you're up early today," a warm voice called out.
He turned to see his elderly neighbor, a frail yet kind woman, watering the potted plants outside her door. She had always been there, one of the few constants in his life—a presence that, over time, had come to feel like family.
"Got an early class today, Grandma," he replied, kneeling to tie his shoelaces. "Take care of yourself, alright?"
The old woman smiled, her wrinkled hands trembling slightly as she pointed toward the street. "Be careful on the road, dear. There have been… too many accidents lately."
A flicker of concern crossed his mind, but he quickly masked it with a reassuring nod. "I'll be careful."
Hopping onto his bicycle, he pedaled leisurely down the street, letting the morning breeze wash over him. This was his favorite part of the day—the moment when the world felt calm as if time itself had slowed just for him. Closing his eyes for a brief second, he inhaled deeply, savoring the crispness of dawn, the warmth of the rising sun, and the distant scent of rain lingering from the night before.
And then—
"Come back."
His breath hitched. His fingers instinctively squeezed the brakes, bringing the bicycle to a sudden halt. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as his gaze darted around, searching for the source of the voice.
But there was no one.
For a long moment, he remained still, his grip on the handlebars tightening. Then, shaking off the unease creeping up his spine, he forced himself to continue forward.
Lately, these hallucinations—these whispers—had been occurring more frequently. He had dismissed them at first, attributing them to stress, exhaustion, or perhaps just the lingering remnants of dreams.
"We need you… Come back."
His jaw clenched. With deliberate slowness, he reached up and pressed his headphones more firmly over his ears, drowning out the voice with music.
But deep down, he knew.
It wasn't going away.
And something—something beyond this world—was calling him.
...
"Waaah… waaah…"
The piercing cries of a newborn echoed through the grand, cathedral-like hall, each wail bouncing off the towering marble pillars. The child, swaddled in dark cloth, trembled in the arms of a cloaked woman, his tiny fists clenched as his fragile body shuddered with each sob. The woman's black hood cast a deep shadow over her face, concealing all but the slight parting of her lips as she cradled the infant closer to her chest.
"Bring him forward."
The command slithered through the air like a crow's rasp, dry and foreboding.
The woman stepped forward, her boots clicking against the polished stone floor. The rhythmic clack… clack… clack… of her slow ascent up the grand staircase reverberated through the silent sanctum, broken only by the hushed murmurs of the gathered figures. As she reached the center of the altar, she lowered herself onto her knees, her grip on the child tightening.
Without warning, a ring of figures in white-platinum robes moved in unison, their movements eerily synchronized as they surrounded her in a tightening circle. Their presence was overwhelming, faceless beneath their hoods, their robes rustling softly like whispering ghosts.
"We must not delay any longer."
A voice, smooth yet absolute, resonated from the far end of the sanctum. Its source sat upon an awe-inspiring throne—no, something far grander, something beyond the station of kings. The throne's towering frame, adorned with ancient inscriptions and embedded gemstones, gleamed as golden sunlight streamed in from behind, casting the figure in a near-divine silhouette. The light was blinding, making it impossible to meet his gaze directly.
"As you command, My lord."
A second voice, hoarse with reverence, answered. The speaker—an aged man draped in ceremonial gold—stood beside the throne, bowing deeply before turning to face the altar.
"Begin the ritual!"
The robed figures immediately responded. They reached for each other's hands, forming an unbreakable chain around the woman and child. Their fingers interlocked, trembling slightly as they began to chant in a forgotten tongue, their voices weaving into a chilling harmony.
The air grew heavy.
A strange pressure filled the room as if the very walls were breathing. The ancient stone trembled beneath them, deep groans echoing through the foundation.
Then—
Rumble…
The towering ceiling quivered under the force of unseen energy. The stained-glass windows trembled violently, emitting high-pitched creaks as their ornate frames struggled to contain the immense power building within the sanctum. Tiny fragments of dust cascaded from the vaulted ceiling, swirling in the sacred light that had begun to descend.
The roof, once solid and eternal, now split open with a deafening CRACK! Chunks of debris tumbled down, shattering into sharp echoes as they struck the marble floor. The noise was overwhelming—a mix of grinding stone, the fluttering of robes caught in turbulent air, and the rhythmic, almost desperate chants of the gathered figures.
And then—
A single beam of divine radiance pierced through the heavens, striking the child with unerring precision.
The baby's cries momentarily faltered as his tiny body was bathed in the celestial glow, his fragile form trembling under the weight of a force far beyond mortal comprehension.
...
"Time is running out."
Just when the young man thought the voice in his head had finally faded, it spoke again. But this time… it was different. The words weren't just the usual, distant murmurs—there was urgency.
Before he could even process it, the voice roared through his mind, louder than ever before.
"We need you… We NEED you!"
"Ahhh—!"
A sudden, unbearable pain exploded in his skull. His vision blurred as he clutched his head, his fingers digging into his scalp as if trying to physically tear the voice out. His bike swerved dangerously before skidding to a stop—in the middle of the road.
"We don't have much time… We need you!"
His breath came in ragged gasps. His heart pounded like a war drum, its deafening thud-thud-thud echoing in his ears. The world around him spun, twisting into a hazy mess of colors and sounds.
...
"The Holy Light shall bless the Holy Son, bestowing its divine grace upon the Land of Rune!"
The robed elder's voice rang through the grand hall, hoarse yet filled with conviction. He raised both hands toward the heavens as the surrounding mages deepened their chants. Their intertwined voices wove a powerful incantation, vibrating through the very air, growing in strength with every syllable.
The woman at the altar tightened her hold on the infant in her arms. The child, bathed in cascading divine light, emanated a growing magical aura—so potent that even the most experienced sorcerers could not help but feel a shiver of reverence.
...
"We're out of time… We must fight."
"Great Celestial Deity, we beseech you—bless the Holy Son with the most formidable magic, an unbreakable spirit!"
"We have lost once before…"
"Let the Holy Son carve a path through the thorns of battle…"
"We need you to fight… We will aid you… Against—"
The voice thundered through his skull, each word a hammer striking his consciousness. The young man's body trembled uncontrollably, his breath coming in short, choked gasps. His fingers dug into his temples as he let out a strangled scream, the unbearable pressure pushing him past his limits.
"Celestial Deity, bless our Holy Son—"
"Become… the STRONGEST!"
BANG!!!!!!
A deafening crash shattered the air.
The impact sent shockwaves through the street. A massive cargo truck screeched, its tires wailing against the pavement as it plowed into the bicycle. The force of the collision twisted the frame like paper, metal shards flying in every direction. The driver's panicked scream tore through the chaos.
"Shit! SHIT!"
His hands trembled violently on the steering wheel. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he stared in horror at the wreckage before him.
"That damned kid—why the hell did he stop in the middle of the road?! And why… why didn't the brakes work?!"
His heart pounded against his ribs as he fumbled to unbuckle his seatbelt, stumbling out of the truck. His breath hitched as he scanned the scene. The mangled remains of the bicycle lay in a heap of twisted iron.
But—
No blood.
Nobody.
No sign of the young man at all.
The driver's blood ran cold.
"What…?"
Frantic, he spun around, searching every inch of the street. But no matter where he looked, the result was the same.
The boy had vanished.