The city of Nivora, a sprawl caught between progress and ruin, slept beneath a haze of neon lights and choking smog. Skyscrapers hummed with power, yet the alleys told another story forgotten, messy, and hollow.
And from one such shadowed alley came a sound.
A baby's cry.
Abandoned within a strange, metallic cradle that pulsed faintly with residual energy, the child wailed, her small voice echoing against the rusted walls. Days passed. People hurried by, their eyes averted, their ears deaf to her misery.
But fate listened.
A wanderer heard the cry. Following the sound through narrow passages, he arrived just as another figure, a woman cloaked in ragged garments approached from the opposite end. They both froze at the sight of the infant.
Inside the cradle lay a baby girl. Her skin was dark, her hair black as obsidian but tied with a delicate white bow streaked with violet stripes. Her eyes though swollen from crying, gleamed with an unnatural brightness, iris glowing in shades of luminous purple. A necklace hung from her neck, etched with a single name:
"Alya Aerius."
The man's face darkened.
"Who in their right mind would abandon a baby here?"
The woman exhaled bitterly.
"The world today is already broken enough."
Before another word could be spoken, five shadowed figures appeared atop the nearby rooftops. Their silhouettes were jagged, their presence suffocating. Each bore an infinity symbol etched across their garments.
One by one, they leapt down, surrounding the man and the woman.
"Who are they?" the woman whispered, tension crackling in her voice.
"I don't know," the man muttered, fists clenched.
The figures moved as one. The air grew cold, humming with unseen force.
The man's arms flared with crimson light, muscles swelling as his fists became blazing gauntlets of raw power. The woman shimmered with golden sparks, fragments of light swirling around her hands like living embers.
And then war erupted.
The attackers surged. One wrenched steel pipes from the walls, twisting them like serpents and hurling them with lethal speed. Another coated his fists in crystalline armor, each punch shattering concrete. The remaining three manipulated debris and objects like weapons of telekinetic rage.
The man countered with a roar, his glowing fists pulverizing the crystalline shards that rained down. Sparks ignited with every strike. The woman darted between blows, her golden fragments forming shields that splintered against the force of their enemies' attacks.
But the five were relentless. Each move calculated, each strike aiming not at them but at the child.
The cradle slid across the ground, its cries intensifying.
"Not her!" the man bellowed, his punch detonating into a shockwave that hurled one enemy into a wall.
The woman scooped the cradle, spinning in a dance of light, but another figure's crystalline blade slashed her arm, blood scattering into glowing fragments.
They fought like cornered beasts, every strike desperate. The alley shattered with power pipes bursting, walls collapsing, sparks raining like meteors. Yet still the five pressed on, infinite symbols gleaming like curses.
At last, with battered bodies and dwindling strength, the man and woman created a blinding surge crimson and gold colliding, exploding outward. The shockwave bought them seconds. Enough to escape.
Panting, they fled into the labyrinth of alleys, clutching the child.
"Why... why are they so desperate for this poor baby?" the woman gasped.
The man's voice was grim.
"That explains it. Whoever those people are …they must have killed their parents. Now they want her too."
After a silence, he added, "I'm Melvin."
The woman managed a smirk despite her pain.
"I'm Melissa."
And with that, the two fugitives carried the child away, into the uncertain night.
Years Later
Melvin and Melissa built a modest life in the quieter sector of Nivora. Their bond deepened into love, and they raised Alya as their own.
Though they lived simply, Melissa working as a seamstress, Melvin a mechanic—their home was warm. Alya, now five, was a bundle of cheer, running through their small apartment with laughter that erased the shadows of their past.
Evenings were spent at the table: Melissa teaching Alya to thread tiny needles, Melvin fixing broken toys with glowing sparks from his hands. They would eat simple meals, stew and bread but for Alya, it was a feast.
For once, life felt normal.
But peace is fragile.
One afternoon, Alya wandered too far into the streets. She stumbled upon a group of older boys tormenting a smaller child.
"Leave him alone!" Alya shouted, her tiny fists clenched.
The bullies sneered. "Look, another pest. What are you supposed to be, a hero ?"
Without hesitation, they struck her. A metal bat cracked against her face, knocking her down. Blow after blow rained upon her, until blood streaked her cheek.
But Alya rose. Her eyes burned. Her anger… awakened something.
The ground quivered. Crystalline shards began to crawl across her fists, glimmering with a deadly beauty.
Her aura turned suffocating. The bullies froze.
And then she struck. One punch sent a boy sprawling. Another scream followed as crystal met flesh. Fear consumed them, but before her wrath could fully unleash.....
An explosion.
The city erupted in chaos. Villains poured into the streets, slaughtering indiscriminately, fire devouring the skyline.
Alya ran home, desperate. But when she arrived, she found Melvin and Melissa locked in combat with a monstrous invader. They fought fiercely, protecting her until the creature fell. Grabbing her hand, they fled through streets painted with blood and fire.
And then they saw him.
Ivan the Terrible.
Towering, yellow eyes gleaming with malevolent joy, Ivan was a legend of dread and the most feared villain alive.
Melvin's voice trembled. "Melissa... it's him."
They ran. But Ivan's laughter chased them. With a casual gesture, he unleashed his Hailox ability, Decay.
The air corroded. Their bodies withered.
"No!" Alya screamed, as her parents crumbled into ash before her eyes.
Melissa's fading voice whispered, "Run, Alya… live on."
Melvin's last words echoed, "Be strong…"
And then they were gone.
Alya's tears turned to silence. Her small body shook. Her gaze lifted to Ivan.....hair shadowing her face, but her left eye blazing with unnatural light. Purple iris… a blue ring burning at its core.
Her wrath erupted.
The ground split as she ripped debris into the air, slicing through Ivan's soldiers. Screams filled the night as crystalline fists crushed bone and steel alike. Half his men lay slain before her.
Even Ivan staggered, her fist striking his jaw and gouging his left eye. Blood poured, leaving a scar that would never fade.
But Ivan grinned. Grabbing her crystalline hand, his decay corroded her flesh, scars etching across her arm. A dagger followed, plunging into her side, slamming her into the dirt.
She lay there, dying.
Ivan raised his weapon when suddenly, the sky split.
A figure descended, wings of azure light unfurling like divine flame. His body was marked with fire-red tattoos, his presence immense.
Ivan snarled. "Damn it. It him."
He fled, dragging his goons into the shadows.
The stranger landed, dismissing his wings. His gaze softened at the bleeding child.
He lifted her gently.
Moments later, he soared into the skies towards Helixia, the isolated nation of gleaming spires and impossible technology.
The man delivered Alya to Dr. Owen, Helixia's foremost biotechnologist. Hours later, Owen called him back.
"Gerek," the doctor said gravely, "Her wounds are critical . But there's more… She's one of us, an Helixian."
Gerek's eyes narrowed. "Impossible. No Helixian child has ever left this nation."
Owen nodded. "Yet her blood says otherwise . Still, the decay nearly killed her. Much of her body was failing, I replaced herdamaged organs with synthetic ones. Mechanical. She is, in part… a cyborg now."
Silence hung heavy.
Gerek muttered, "Then her life is tied to Helixia whether she wants it or not."
The next morning, Alya opened her eyes. Weak, trembling, she wandered to the window overlooking Avril City's breathtaking skyline.
A deep voice greeted her.
"Hey kid, you're awake ."
She turned. The tattooed man stood at the corridor.
"Your body's been rebuilt. You'll live. What's your name ?"
Her lips trembled, tears threatening again.
"…Alya. Alya Aerius."
The name struck Gerek like thunder.
"I see. Aerius… I'm Gerek. From this day on, I'll take you in. You're not alone. There are others like you. Axel and Jayce, you'll see them soon."
For the first time since her loss, Alya's fate shifted. From tragedy… toward destiny.