The tremor hit at midnight.
It wasn't natural—no tectonic faultline, no underground explosion. It pulsed outward from the RSA compound like a silent sonic boom, folding the air in an expanding ripple that only Awakeners could feel.
Alex sat bolt upright in bed, heart thundering. His pendant had begun to burn—no longer around his neck, but embedded inside his chest. The heat came from within, like a second heart made of lightning and storm.
And something was wrong.
He stumbled to the mirror. His eyes were glowing again—more intensely this time. Silver with threads of gold. Crackles of energy sparked across his arms, jumping between fingers like living electricity.
"The world is accelerating," whispered the voice within.
"Too fast."
He clutched the sink, gasping. Inside his mind, he could see it clearly: the internal world wasn't just evolving—it was expanding. A ring of floating mountains now circled the core star. Forests of luminous trees had taken root. A second moon had formed in the orbit above the landmass.
"What's happening to me?" he whispered aloud.
The star answered in pulses—cryptic, wordless intent.
Balance. Or break.
RSA Medical Bay
"You should've reported this sooner," Kael snapped, scanning the elevated readings across Alex's vitals. The entire console hummed with interference. "You're destabilizing."
"I didn't know it was this serious."
"Your body's evolving faster than it can process. The celestial power's disguising itself as space and lightning—but that only buys you time."
"How much time?"
Kael didn't answer directly. He tapped the screen, enlarging a visual of Alex's nervous system. Glowing threads of energy lit up along his spine.
"Your mind's adapting. Your soul is being reshaped. But your body... it's not ready. It'll collapse unless you regulate the growth."
Alex leaned back on the bio-bed. "Can I slow it down?"
"No. But you can stabilize it. Meditate inside your world. Force coherence. And take this." He handed Alex a small vial of thick silver fluid. "Synthetic star essence. It'll help you reinforce the realm inside you. Burn it gradually."
Alex stared at the vial. The energy inside pulsed like captured lightning.
"Why help me?" he asked.
Kael's voice lowered. "Because I've seen something like you once before. He didn't make it."
Two Days Later — Crescent Market, Sector West
It was supposed to be routine.
A minor mission. Escort a supply drone through a high-traffic corridor and test his interference resistance. Easy. Basic.
But fate never played by the rules.
Alex moved casually through the floating market, eyes scanning the crowd. Merchants shouted, customers bartered, and the drone hovered overhead, humming softly.
Then the world rippled.
Not visually—but instinctually. Every fiber of his being screamed incoming.
Without hesitation, Alex spun around—
—Just as a massive creature crashed through a tear in the air behind him.
It was serpentine. At least thirty feet long. Made entirely of shadowy scales and cracked molten lines. Not a dragon. Not a beast.
A dimensional rift spawn.
The market exploded into chaos.
Screams. Stalls overturned. Children trampled. Elemental shields sprang up—weak, panicked.
Alex didn't hesitate.
He shot forward, summoning a burst of space compression beneath the beast. Its tail folded inward, twisted unnaturally, and it roared.
The crowd fled—but some were pinned beneath debris.
A child screamed for help.
Alex surged forward, faster than thought, lightning bursting from his limbs.
He lifted the fallen stall in one push and shielded the girl with a spatial fold as the beast struck again.
A tail whip came flying.
Instinct took over.
His pendant flared inside him.
His body vanished—reappearing behind the creature with a crack of thunder. His hand, glowing with celestial power disguised as lightning, slammed into the beast's spine.
The impact shattered the sound barrier.
Half the market's lighting grid exploded.
The creature screeched, flailing—
And then stopped.
Frozen in place.
Alex blinked.
It wasn't fear.
It was paralysis—but not from lightning or space. Something deeper had taken hold.
"Celestial stasis," said a familiar voice from the shadows.
Rhaenys stepped forward, ignoring the terrified civilians.
She wore a high-collared black cloak, her eyes brighter than usual.
"Only those with Origin influence can freeze riftbeasts. You just revealed something far beyond your current rank."
Alex turned toward her. "You're following me again."
"I'm watching," she corrected. "And so are others now. That was public."
She gestured at the cameras blinking on the street corners.
"You'll be on the news by nightfall. They'll analyze your attack frame by frame. RSA will try to cover it—but someone saw too much."
Alex exhaled slowly. "I didn't mean to unleash that. It just… happened."
"That's how celestial power works," she said. "It acts through you when you're pushed. It's not just energy—it's law."
He looked down at his hands. They were still crackling, silver lines running up his arms like vines.
"I'm losing control."
"No," Rhaenys said quietly. "You're becoming something uncontrollable."
That Evening — Orphanage Rooftop
Alex sat under the stars, the sky oddly clear for once. Lights blinked across the cityscape like a silent constellation of machines and watchers.
The orphanage keeper had asked questions—where he had gone, why he had come back with cuts and dust all over his clothes. He gave her the same answer as always: "Just another RSA errand."
She didn't believe him.
But she fed him. Smiled. And hugged him a little longer than usual.
He didn't know how to tell her that he might not be able to stay much longer. That something inside him was swelling, changing him by the hour.
He opened his bracelet and replayed the mission feed.
Frame by frame, he watched himself fight.
And at one moment—split-second slow motion—he saw it: a glyph hovering behind his back. Star-shaped, celestial script spinning in motion. It wasn't lightning. It wasn't space.
It was the real him, bleeding through.
"I have to choose," he murmured.
He tapped into the RSA database through his bracelet and began searching.
Not just for more power.
But for a path.
One that could feed his awakening, protect the orphanage, and prepare him for whatever was coming.
He narrowed in on a set of entries under Clans: Vampire | Space Affinity Families.
One stood out.
The Sael'Var.
An ancient vampire family known for spatial bloodlines, keepers of astral ruins, and once—rumored—guardians of the Worldcraft Codex.
He bookmarked their entry.
He wasn't ready to join them yet.
But soon.
Very soon.
Far Away — Within the Council
In a chamber of shifting mirrors beneath the moonlight, twelve figures watched the same footage of the fight in the market.
Alex's moment of celestial exposure played in silence.
One figure, robed in silver bone, stood and broke the silence.
"He's awakening too fast."
Another nodded. "He must be guided—or destroyed."
A third voice hissed, "Or claimed. His fate has yet to be chosen."
The mirrors darkened.