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Chapter 1 – The Child in the Road
The night was quiet—too quiet for the city's outskirts.
Streetlamps hummed faintly in the dark, their pale glow pooling on the cracked asphalt of a lonely road. No cars. No pedestrians. Just the still breath of a winter breeze carrying with it the scent of rain yet to fall.
Then, from somewhere deep in that silence… something moved.
It was small. Frail. A shifting bundle of white cloth lying right in the middle of the road, as though dropped carelessly by a passing hand.
Far away, the hum of an engine began to grow louder.
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Nail Waterson wasn't paying much attention to the road that night. The orphanage paperwork in his passenger seat was spilling over with bills, schedules, and the kinds of problems that couldn't be solved in a single day. He drove out of habit, eyes glazed over, his thoughts elsewhere.
Until the bundle moved again.
Nail's hands tightened on the steering wheel. What in the world…? He slammed his foot on the brake. The tires shrieked against the asphalt, and the car skidded to a stop just a few feet away from the thing lying there.
Heart thudding, he stepped out. Cold air bit at his skin.
As he approached, the bundle squirmed—and a tiny cry broke the night.
It was a baby.
A newborn, wrapped in a white cloth that looked far too thin for the night's chill. The infant's tiny fists fought against the folds as though trying to escape.
Nail knelt, stunned. Who… who leaves a newborn in the middle of the road? His eyes swept the empty street, but there was no one—no hurried footsteps, no shadows retreating into the dark.
Carefully, he lifted the child into his arms. The baby's small body was warm against the cold night air, his breaths shallow but steady.
"Well," Nail murmured under his breath, "I guess you're coming with me."
He carried the baby to his car, cradling him close. The orphanage had already closed for the day, so there was only one place to go—home.
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The Waterson house was alive with light and warmth when he stepped inside. The smell of freshly baked bread and roasted chicken filled the air. His wife, Elizabeth, was at the dining table with their two daughters, Saki and Gami, laughter softening the clink of cutlery.
The door clicked shut behind him, and three heads turned in unison.
"Dad's home!" Saki chirped, her face bright—until her gaze dropped to the bundle in his arms. "Wait… is that—?"
Gami blinked, wide-eyed. "Did Mom have another baby while we weren't looking?"
Elizabeth shot her a look. "Gami…" Then she turned to her husband. "Nail, whose child is that?"
Nail set the bundle gently on a nearby chair and began unwrapping it enough to reveal the child's face. The baby's dark lashes framed closed eyes, his breathing soft and steady.
"I found him on the road," Nail said simply. "No one around. No one claiming him. Just… there."
For a moment, no one spoke. Even Saki and Gami fell silent.
Finally, Elizabeth sighed. "Let's talk after dinner. The girls should sleep before we figure this out."
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Later, when the house was quiet and the dishes were done, Nail carried the newborn into the small guest room. He was just laying him in a tiny crib they kept for the orphanage's younger children when Elizabeth entered.
"You still haven't answered the real question," she said softly.
"I told you. I found him there."
Elizabeth moved closer, adjusting the blanket around the child. Her fingers brushed against something stiff inside the folds of the white cloth. She frowned, tugging it free.
It was a piece of parchment—not paper, not quite fabric either. Strange symbols glimmered faintly along its edges, fading in and out as though they weren't meant to be seen for long.
Unfolding it, she began to read. Nail leaned over her shoulder.
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> Great humans of the modern world,
If you are reading this, you have found my son.
His name is Wong Lu.
He is not as you are. Though he wears the form of a human, he is something even reality fears to name. Please protect him. Guide him. Show him love, and help him grow.
I am Yuna, his mother. I come from a place where kings rule not lands, but existence itself. My son was born of royal blood—blood that carries power without limit. And because of this, there are those who would destroy him before he can take his first step.
Do not tell him what he is until he is old enough to understand. Keep him safe until then.
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Elizabeth gasped, her hands trembling slightly.
Before either of them could speak, the parchment's edges began to glow. The glow deepened into searing heat, and Elizabeth cried out, dropping it. The parchment floated in the air for a heartbeat before bursting into golden flames that made no smoke, no scent.
In seconds, it was nothing but drifting ash.
Nail looked from the ashes to the sleeping baby. Wong Lu's chest rose and fell in perfect peace.
Elizabeth swallowed. "We have a golden egg on our hands," she whispered. "And if this is true… the world will never be the same when he grows."
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