The ice cracked.
At first, it was nothing — a whisper, a tremor, a hairline fracture across the surface. Just a soft pop, like a breath held too long finally escaping. But I felt it. Deep. Like a shift in the bones of the world. The longer I sat there, entombed in silence and cold, the more it spread — thin fractures spidering outward, threading across my body like veins of awakening.
My chest tightened. I couldn't tell if it was panic or hope, only that it was real, more real than anything I'd felt in... how long? Years? Decades?
The sound echoed through the museum's stillness — brittle, sharp, growing louder by the second. It wasn't just breaking ice anymore. It was the sound of something ancient stirring.
Something dangerous.
I tried to shake it off, but the chill ran deeper than skin. My instincts screamed — something was happening. Something big.
"What's going on?" I croaked. The sound of my own voice startled me. It came out rough, unused. Like something dragged from the depths of a long-forgotten dream. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd spoken aloud.
Then — a sound. A laugh. Quiet, warm, too familiar. And utterly impossible.
A chuckle.
"I told you, didn't I?" came the old man's voice — calm, knowing, steady as ever.
My eyes flicked toward the sound, vision blurred by frost. I could barely see him through the shards of ice that still clung to my form, but I felt him. That same unshakable presence. That maddening serenity. He hadn't changed at all.
The ice began to crack faster, louder, echoing like thunder in my ears.
"Why now?" I asked. "Why me?"
His eyes twinkled with something more than just mischief — with something ancient, something true. "You were never gone, Akio. Only sleeping. And the world doesn't let power like yours sleep forever."
The words hit me like a pulse. A jolt. My heart slammed against my ribs — once, then again, harder. A surge of heat spread through my frozen limbs, a torrent of energy that shattered the ice like glass. It burst around me in radiant shards, the light catching in midair like stars falling.
It wasn't pain.
It was life.
Every nerve roared to life, like a dam bursting open. The flood of sensation was overwhelming — electric, consuming, alive. I gasped, breath hitching, body shaking as I stumbled to my feet. The ground beneath me was littered with the broken prison I'd been trapped in. My fingers trembled. My knees buckled. But I was moving.
I had returned.
"What happened to me?!" I shouted, my voice ragged but full of something I hadn't felt in years — purpose.
"You were dormant," the old man replied simply. "The power within you needed time. But now..." He stepped closer. "Now the world needs you awake."
The words echoed in my head, but something deeper stirred inside me — a memory, a feeling. My hands began to glow, faint at first, then stronger. A low hum filled the air. My body knew what my mind couldn't yet grasp: I was ready. Beyond ready.
Then it hit me.
The Minotaur.
My blood turned to fire. Without thinking, I spun on my heel and launched myself toward the museum's entrance. The massive doors burst open with a crash as I charged into the daylight, leaving only the echoes of shattered ice behind me.
The world outside was blinding — too bright, too loud, too real. After so long in the dark, the sun was a spear to the eyes. I blinked rapidly, heart racing.
And then I heard it.
Chaos.
Sirens wailed in the distance. The sharp staccato of screams, the rumble of collapsing buildings, the thunder of something massive moving through the city.
My feet moved on their own, each step faster than the last. I tore through the streets like a force of nature, wind howling past me. The air was thick with smoke and dust. The scent of blood and fear hung heavy.
And then I saw it.
Far beyond the burning skyline, a silhouette loomed — monstrous, colossal.
The Minotaur.
Its shadow stretched across the ground like a god of war. Towering, horned, and merciless. Its thick, stone-like hide shimmered with blood and dust. Every step it took made the earth quake. Around it, the city burned.
Dozens of lesser heroes swarmed, a sea of movement against a mountain of brutality. Their attacks barely scratched it. One was hurled through a wall. Another vaporized in a single swing of its massive arm.
"Fall back!" someone screamed. "We can't hold it!"
I didn't hesitate.
I ran.
The world blurred as I closed the distance, feet pounding the pavement. My muscles screamed with energy they hadn't used in years, but it wasn't weakness. It was power. My veins felt like they carried lightning. My body, once frozen, now thrummed like a weapon unsheathed.
The Minotaur turned.
It saw me.
Its eyes — glowing red like twin furnaces — locked on mine. It roared, the sound splitting the sky.
And still, I didn't stop.
I leapt — the wind howled past my ears as I soared through the air. Time seemed to slow. My fists burned with radiant energy, my aura flaring like a second sun.
This was it.
Not the end.
The beginning.