"The crown… what a pitiful thing. Once it sat upon my head, and the stars bent their light for me. Yet in the end, even gods are nothing but dust scattered before the void."
The crown lay heavy in his hand.
His fingers clenched around the broken diadem. It splintered into motes of light, dissolving into the dark.
No thunder marked the end, no divine chorus mourned the fall. The throne beneath him crumbled to ash, scattering into the abyss without sound. Even the stars trembled and dimmed, unwilling to watch the last sovereign of gods breathe his final breath.
His chest rose once, then fell shallow, each breath dragging threads of divinity into dust. His gaze flickered, past the ruin of heaven, past the crawling hunger of the Outer Gods, toward a silence that felt endless.
"I tore apart eternity with my own hands. I fed my blood to the roots of the world, rewrote its withering script, and left behind nothing but silence. To preserve what remained… I erased myself."
The silence deepened. Even the hunger paused, as if to listen. His body unraveled, his veins burning away into pure light.
"Now, I awaken in weakness. A frail body, a fleeting breath. They call it life… but I know it is only a mask stretched thin across death. Heh. How laughable. Even stripped of divinity, even buried in ignorance… the weight of what I was will not vanish."
His lips parted one last time, voice like ash on the wind.
"The world may forget. But I will not. Not forever. This sacrifice led me towards the darkness. I will accept. It's my duty to protect them bcz I am the ruler…"
And then, the throne broke.
The world ended.
And like a dream, he fell…
★★★
Ren Calder woke to sunlight. His hair was messy black in colour. His eyes were blue. White fair skin with long medium hair, sharp jawline with a handsome face.
Sunlight cut through the thin curtains of his room, pooling across the sheets, warm against his skin. Dust motes floated lazily in the beam of gold. The ceiling above him was ordinary, painted cream, with a faint crack splitting across the plaster like an old scar.
For a moment, he simply lay there, breathing. His chest rose and fell with a fragile rhythm, lungs filling with air that felt too shallow. Alive, yes. But weak.
The dream still clung to him. No, not a dream. Something heavier. Something etched into the marrow of his bones. He could feel it even now, a whisper beneath his heartbeat, like the echo of a vast silence.
Was that truly a dream? Or… a memory?
His fingers twitched against the sheets. Pale. Human. Not divine light coursing beneath the skin, but warmth, fragile and fleeting.
The silence was broken by hurried footsteps outside his door.
"Ren! Wake up already!"
The voice was bright, sharp, familiar. Before he could respond, the door swung open with little ceremony. A girl peeked inside. Her cheeks puffed in annoyance, hair tangled from sleep, eyes alight with impatience. A girl with pale amber skin, dark curls that seem untamable, and sharp green eyes that are always calculating.
Mira. His sister.
She placed her hands on her hips, narrowing her gaze. "You're still lying there? Don't make me drag you again. You'll be late."
Ren blinked slowly. His throat was dry, words rough as he murmured, "Mira… it's too early."
She huffed. "Early? The bus is in twenty minutes. And also Mom told you to stop reading weird stuff at night."
Ren offered a faint smile, though his eyes lingered on his own pale hands. "Yeah… weird stuff."
Mira narrowed her eyes. Scanning his face. "You had another nightmare, didn't you?"
Ren didn't answer immediately. Throne. Pain. Divinity. And a word… Ruler. His mind recoiled as if prodded with a hot iron. He forced a shrug. "Just… noise in my head. Nothing important."
"Liar," Mira muttered, but she turned away. "Breakfast is on the table. If you take too long, I'm eating yours."
"Thanks," he said quietly.
When she left, Ren let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. His body felt heavy, like he had carried someone else's death into this room.
★★★
Shower. Clothes. A splash of water on his face. By the time Ren came down to the kitchen, the normal rhythm of family life had already begun. His mother moved briskly between the stove and counter, tall, graceful, with silver-streaked black hair always braided neatly down her back. Her eyes are a muted violet, soft yet sharp when she speaks.
Their father sat at the table, broad-shouldered, skin bronze, hair streaked with gray. Eyes steel-blue, commanding. He scrolled through reports on a thin glowing screen. Mana circuits traced faintly along its edges.
Mana circuits gleamed faintly along the edges of the device, a common sight these days.
"Ren," his mother said without turning, "eat quickly or you'll miss the bus again."
"Yes, Mom." He sat across from Mira, who was already halfway through her toast. Mira smirked when she saw him.
"Hey! Brother, what did you see in your dreams today?"
"Nothing new. Just the same things I see every day—that's what I saw today." Ren replied dryly, pulling a plate closer.
The clink of utensils, the aroma of eggs, the low murmur of their father reading something aloud about "mana tariff disputes in the northern provinces". Everything painted the picture of a world both familiar and strange. A family breakfast, ordinary in form, yet infused with the quiet hum of a society where magic was not legend but infrastructure.
"Big news," his father said, adjusting his glasses. "The Academy board just announced that first-years will be required to demonstrate mana affinity before winter term."
Mira perked up. "That means you'll have to finally show them you're not useless, Ren."
He gave her a look. "Appreciate the encouragement."
Their mother clicked her tongue. "Mira, enough teasing. Finish your food. Ren, don't forget your charm crystal. Last time the bus monitor nearly sent you back."
Ren nodded absently, though his mind was far from charm crystals or bus rides. Throne, Ashes rattled in his ears still. That whisper… Ruler… burned inside him with a weight no one else at this table could feel.
★★★
The bus waited at the corner, a long, sleek construct of metal and mana-runed glass. Blue sigils pulsed faintly along its sides, powering the vehicle with a steady glow. Students filed in, some chatting animatedly, others yawning.
Ren climbed aboard, Mira at his side. She quickly darted off to sit with friends, leaving him a seat by the window.
As the bus rumbled forward, mana engines humming beneath, Ren stared out at the passing scenery.
The city stretched wide, towers of steel intertwined with crystalline conduits that pulsed faintly with stored mana. Streets buzzed with carriages both mundane and arcane. Advertisements flickered on glass screens, promoting everything from "Mana-Infused Energy Drinks" to "Spell-Assist Tutors."
It was a world balanced precariously between the modern and the mystical.
Yet none of it felt solid to Ren. The world outside blurred, and all he could see, behind his reflection in the glass, was that throne again. That voice. That word.
"Ruler…" he whispered under his breath, as the bus carried him deeper into another ordinary day. He lived in Elaris city.