AJ woke up groggy, blinking at the dim glow of oil lamps scattered across the slum. The square where the bonfire feast had been held last night was empty. Only a few women moved quietly between the shacks, tending to chores.
A sharp voice broke the silence.
"Aj!"
He turned. A girl with a small fire lantern strode toward him, her face lit by the warm flicker. Nina. Her eyes teased him with the usual mix of scolding and sweetness.
"So you really did run away, lazy bones," she taunted with a smile, swinging the lantern close to his face.
---
Nina… always Nina. Twenty years old, yet she still played like the child who used to chase him and Neo around the treehouse. Sweet, caring—more than a sister, more than a mother. Her father had been swallowed by a Dungeon. Her mother wasted away from illness. Now Nina spent her days tending the old folk of the slum, nearly five hundred of them clinging together in this cage of darkness. A home nurse, a guardian, a friend… she was everything bright in this bleak world.
---
He shook off the memories and asked, "Where's Neo? Where are all the men?"
"They left for the Dungeon," Nina replied gently. "You were sleeping so soundly… they didn't want to wake you."
A sour disappointment coiled in his chest. He missed his chance.
"Then at least… lend me your lantern," he said.
Nina raised a brow. "And where's your firefly lantern, hm?"
AJ froze. Then the memory hit—his lantern. The one he built with Nina and Neo. The one hanging in his treehouse, the highest tree at the slum's boundary.
Without another word, he bolted.
"Careful climbing, fool!" Nina called after him, laughing.
AJ scrambled up the trunk, swinging onto the wooden planks of their treehouse. There it was, glowing faintly—his firefly lantern. He picked it up and, for a moment, gazed out over the slum. From the distance, he saw it: a string of lights marching slowly toward the entrance.
Trouble.
He climbed down fast, heart hammering, and sprinted toward the gates. Just as he reached, a mounted figure crossed into the slum.
A man on horseback.
AJ tripped in the mud and fell as the rider stopped in the center square. He was a slim young man, maybe in his twenties, but dressed in polished armor that gleamed even under the dim lanterns. He sneered down at the slumfolk.
"You garbage—bow to me!" he barked. "I've come to show pity."
He swung a bag from his horse and tossed it down. Rice spilled onto the dirt. Another bag thudded after it, rolling open with apples.
"See? Mercy! I feed you insects!" he shouted. "Be grateful I even notice you."
Laughter burst from his throat as his eyes scanned the crowd. Then they stopped—on Nina.
"Well, well… a lotus blooming in the mud." His grin widened. "Aren't you pretty? Be thankful that my eyes fell upon you. Come here."
"...Sorry, my lord," Nina said softly, lowering her gaze.
The knight's smile vanished. He roared, "I feed you, and this is how you repay me?! Garbage! Garbage!" He drew his sword, the steel catching firelight, and urged his horse forward. Nina stumbled back and fell to the ground.
"Change your answer," he hissed. "Or pay the after-cost."
Silence. Nina didn't reply.
The man's rage boiled over. "Someone make this girl understand her place!"
AJ's legs moved before his mind did. He stepped forward.
"Oh? Finally, someone with brains," the knight sneered.
AJ bent down, scooping the scattered rice and apples into his arms. The knight's grin returned.
"Yes. Pick them up. Kneel if you must."
But AJ didn't kneel. He marched straight up, dropped the rice and apple into the knight's gauntleted hand, and looked him dead in the eye.
"We're happy with what we have," AJ said. His lips curled into a sly smirk. "Thanks, 'lord.' If you're done blessing us with your scraps, please take your leave. Wouldn't want to dirty your boots in the mud too long."
For a heartbeat, the slum was silent. Then laughter erupted—harsh, raw, unrestrained.
The knight's face twisted. Shamed, he hurled the rice and apples to the ground and yanked his reins. His horse reared, and in a flash, he galloped out of the slum.
The people's laughter followed him until his shadow vanished into the dark.
AJ wiped his hands clean, still smirking.
The slum buzzed after the arrogant knight rode off.
Children crowded around AJ, their voices a storm.
"Did you see his face? Hah! He nearly swallowed his own tongue when you mocked him!" one boy laughed.
Another shoved AJ's shoulder, face pale. "Idiot! What if he comes back with soldiers? You'll get us all killed!"
Their words cut both ways—half admiration, half fear.
Mina stepped forward, the lantern in her hands spilling a golden glow across her cheeks. Her eyes were sharp, her voice stern.
"AJ… do you ever think? That was reckless. If he had drawn his sword, do you know what would have happened? To you? To all of us?"
Her words weighed heavier than the others. AJ tried to speak, but nothing came. Mina shook her head and turned away.
But just before the darkness swallowed her figure, AJ caught it—a flicker at her lips. A small, hidden smile.
The crowd pressed in again, voices suffocating. AJ lowered his head, fists trembling. And then—
"WHATEVER!" His voice cracked through the night like thunder. "I don't care if he's a knight, a king, or even a god! I won't bow!"
Silence. Not a word.
And AJ didn't wait for their judgment. He sprinted away, feet pounding against the dirt, straight for the slum's edge.
The treehouse stood tall on the great boundary tree, his sanctuary above the world. He climbed fast, the wood creaking under his hands, until he pulled himself into the little shelter they'd built years ago.
Inside, everything smelled of dust and memories.
That's when his eyes caught it—a faint glimmer beneath the straw mat.
A blade. Broken and jagged, dulled with rust.
AJ lifted it, and fragments of memory stirred—him, Neo, and Mina dragging scraps of junk, laughing about filling their "adventure bag."
He dug out the bag now, its leather cracked with age. Inside were childish treasures: buttons, bones, pebbles. But buried among them—
AJ unfolded it carefully.
A map.
The ink was faded but legible, marked with strange symbols. And the words—
The words were Hebrew.
His heart stopped.
"No one here should know this…" he whispered. "This… is from my World.
But why is it here..?
His thoughts swirled. Neo had been there when they found it. Maybe Neo knew more. Maybe he remembered what AJ couldn't.
AJ clenched the broken blade. "I need answers."
But then, through the treehouse window, a glow flickered in the distance. Dozens of lanterns bobbed like fireflies, swaying closer to the slum's gate.
He froze.
"…Not strangers," he breathed.
One by one, the lights revealed faces. Weary, dirt-streaked faces.
It was the men of the slum, finally returning from the dungeon.
The dinner fire crackled, smoke rising into the black, sunless sky. The whole slum gathered, bowls of thin stew in hand, voices buzzing about AJ's reckless words to the knight.
His father's voice cut through. "AJ," he said firmly, "what you did today was foolish. You could've gotten us all in trouble. Do you understand that?"
Some nodded in agreement, muttering about the boy's arrogance. Others smirked, pride glinting in their eyes at his boldness.
AJ kept his eyes low, chewing without tasting. The anger, the thrill—it all swirled in him. Then, he tugged Neo toward the Treehouse.
---
Beneath the branches of their crooked tree, AJ lit a small lantern. He spread the crumpled parchment map across the floorboards, eyes tracing the strange, curling symbols.
"Neo," he asked quietly, "where did this even come from?"
Neo yawned. "Couple months ago. Old adventurer gave it to us after I climbed the orchard wall and picked apples for him. I even got a beating for sneaking out while pretending to be sick."
AJ frowned at the letters. They were unfamiliar to this world—but not to him. Hebrew. At least, fragments of it. He could sound out the alphabets, but the meaning slipped from his grasp.
"You… remember his face?" AJ pressed.
Neo scratched his head. "Wrinkly. Crooked hat. That's it." He gave a careless shrug. "Don't tell me you think it's for treasure."
AJ didn't answer. He only stared harder at the faded writing. He knew this script. From his old world. From Riddlestone's studies. But why here? How?
"I'm starving," Neo muttered, stretching. "I'm heading back."
AJ stayed behind for a moment, the map trembling in his hands. This can't be coincidence.
---
At the fire again, he ate in silence, his thoughts drifting far away—not to this place, but to the life he had lost. His father's cold indifference. His mother's empty affection. His annoying brother's jeers. The butler who raised him more than they ever did. His loyal bodyguard. The driver. His old dog.
Are they crying for me now? Or relieved I'm gone? Did the crash take the butler and driver too? No… no, they wouldn't… maybe…
His chest tightened. His eyes blurred. A tear slid down before he could stop it.
Beside him, his father noticed. The man slipped one heavy arm around AJ's shoulders, holding him close while still eating with the other hand. "Don't mind the others. My scolding—it's for your future. You're only thirteen. When you grow, you'll understand."
AJ turned to him, voice trembling but firm.
"You always say we Valmorra are meant to serve nobles. That this is our fate." His jaw clenched. "Then I'll change our fate."
The fire grew quiet. AJ pushed back his stool, heading toward his tent.
His father's eyes softened, weariness in every line of his face. "You're truly your mother's son," he murmured. "Stubborn… and maybe foolish. One day, you'll understand."
At the table, AJ's younger brother suddenly spoke, his voice sharp and clear:
"Brother… fate is meant to be changed."
Neo looked up from his bowl, eyes following AJ's back as he disappeared into the dark.
The night fell heavy over the slums. The bonfires had burned out one by one, leaving only ash and smoke curling into the starless sky. The lanterns dimmed, and silence swallowed the settlement.
AJ and Neo lay side by side on their straw-stuffed mattress, wrapped in old rags. The room smelled of sweat, smoke, and manure, but it was their home.
Sleep came, but not gently.
The Dream
AJ found himself in a Battlefield
Before him stretched an army of millions—flags of kingdoms, banners of guilds, monstrous beasts, armored heroes, and crowned kings. At the front was a single man. His eyes glowed VIOLET, and though his face was hidden, he radiated power. Behind him blazed the glorious Sun itself, brighter than AJ had ever imagined.
A horn blasted. The army charged.
Then—chaos. In seconds
Heroes fell. Kings were broken. Even monsters collapsed lifeless on the ground. The battlefield was nothing but silence and smoke.
The glowing man turned to the Sun—only for a shadowy beast to lunge from the void and devour it whole. Darkness swallowed the sky.
Chains—black and red—wrapped around the glowing man's body. He struggled, every movement shaking the earth. AJ noticed a hero on the ground, carving a ritual circle with his own blood before letting his life fade.
The glowing man screamed. The chains broke—only for new ones to form again. His figure began to blur.
And then—
---
The Awakening
"AAAAH!" AJ shot up, sweat pouring from his forehead. His chest hammered like a war drum.
Beside him, Neo yelped as AJ's kick sent him tumbling out of bed.
"Damn it, AJ!" Neo groaned, rubbing his hip. "One day, your dreams are going to kill me."
But AJ didn't answer. A sound had reached his ears—screams. Real ones.
The two boys froze, listening. Then came the clang of a bell. DONG! DONG!
AJ grabbed the nearest lantern, lit its weak flame, and pushed Neo toward the door. "Come on!"
They stumbled into the night.
The slum was in chaos. People were running, shouting, carrying children, falling over each other in panic. The air reeked of smoke. Neo turned pale as his eyes caught a terrifying glow in the distance.
"AJ… look!"
A huge, crimson blaze lit the horizon. Not a bonfire. Not torches. Fire.
Before their eyes, a burning fireball slammed into a tent, igniting it in an instant. Flames spread like wild dogs, swallowing everything. People screamed, blinded by the dark, unable to find their way.
Neo clutched AJ's sleeve. "Let's climb to the treehouse! We'll be safe up there!"
AJ turned, furious. "Are you kidding me? If you want to hide, go! But if you're with me, take your lantern. People can't see. We need to guide them out!"
Neo hesitated, torn.
AJ didn't wait. He dashed into the panicking crowd, holding the lantern high. He then saw Mina and grabbed Mina by the wrist as she stumbled through the smoke.
"This way! Opposite end of the gate!" he shouted, dragging her and fellow Slum people forward
A sudden glow caught AJ's eye—a fireball flying straight at a boy frozen in shock. AJ's breath hitched. He couldn't move fast enough.
But Neo did.
He tackled the boy to the ground just as the fireball scorched past. His voice was cold, almost mocking as he stood up, brushing soot from his shirt.
"How could I leave you? You're not the only one allowed to play hero."
AJ gave a shaky grin. "Glad you're finally learning."
Then Neo alarms that he heard scream near Gate
Turning to Mina, AJ shoved the lantern into her hands. "Take them. Lead everyone to the other side. There's enough firelight now. Go!"
"But—!" Mina gasped.
"No buts. Just go!"
Slum people shouts at them for going back..
AJ and Neo sprinted back toward the burning gate. The screams were louder here, the fire brighter.
---
The Encounter
"Over there!" Neo pointed.
A man lay collapsed near the flames, his legs twisted and bleeding. He waved his arm desperately. "Leave me! Save yourselves!"
AJ shook his head, heart pounding. "Over my dead body."
(What kind of words am I even saying? he thought, caught between excitement and a sharp blade of fear.)
"...AJ," Neo whispered, voice tight.
AJ turned. His blood froze.
A massive shape loomed in the firelight—a dragon. Its scales shimmered red, smoke curling from its nostrils. Each step it took shook the ground. Its golden eyes locked onto them, and its jaw opened, releasing a hiss of fire.
"GO!" the injured man screamed. "I beg you, go!"
"Leave me!" the man screamed again. AJ tightened his grip on the pickaxe. Then a shadow fell over them. The ground shook. When he turned—there it was. A fire-breathing dragon.
His knees trembled, but he forced himself to stand between the dragon and the man.
"Come back, AJ!" his father's voice roared from the distance. Behind him, slumfolk and men stood frozen, watching their boy stand before death.
The dragon lowered on all fours. Then, with a deafening roar, it charged.
His Father too for Aj....
Time slowed.
AJ raised the pickaxe with all his strength, his heart hammering so loud it drowned the dragon's roar. He swung—
—but before the blow could land, a blinding arc of steel carved through the night. The dragon split, clean from tail to skull. AJ staggered back, the pickaxe slipping from his grip.
A figure stood where the beast had fallen. Armor gleamed. A long sword dripped fire and blood. He looked like a Hero from Legends, a True KSHATRIYA. The injured villager whispered, trembling:
"That's… Asokha VII."