CHAPTER 1: THE GATHERING
The night sky,shattered for ungodly reasons... trembled with streaks of silver light.... As if... fate, itself was carving runes across the heavens. Beneath that sky, deep within the oldest hall of the continent, twelve colossal pillars surrounded a circular table of blackstone. The air was thick with anticipation.
This was the Hall of Convergence—where only the most powerful could step without being crushed by its weight.
Seated already were the Elders of the Soul, their robes flowing with shifting sigils of time. They waited in silence, until the heavy doors groaned open.
A voice broke the stillness—light, teasing, almost mocking.
"Am I late, or are you all just too early?"
Heads turned.
Others scoffed.
A young man stepped inside. His presence was overwhelming, yet casual—as if the world itself bent to make room for him. His name was Fate. Black coat swaying behind him, he walked with his hands tucked in his pockets, silver strands of hair glinting under the torchlight. His violet eyes gleamed with mischief.
One elder frowned. "You mock this meeting with jokes, boy?"
"Just as expected'you're no fun.
Fate smirked, leaning against his chair instead of sitting. "Relax. You've all been waiting centuries—what's a few more seconds?"
The silence cracked as a few of the others chuckled. That was Fate's way—never solemn when he could be irritatingly sharp.Neva the deputy of the soul corpse and,fate's assistant.
Others followed, each bearing the unique mark of their Order, their deputies standing like shadows behind them.
The air grew heavier.
An elder's voice thundered. "We have called you here for one reason. The balance has begun to shift. The Nine Lost stir once again."
The table erupted with murmurs. Even the calmest faces darkened.
Fate straightened, the playful edge fading from his voice. "The Lost, huh? Took them long enough."
Neva narrowed her eyes at him. "You say that as if you wanted this." she said closily eyeing him...
He shrugged. "Want? No. Expect? Always."
The eldest elder raised his hand, and silence returned. "You, the Five Heads, and your chosen deputies, will form the vanguard. But beware… among the Lost is one unlike the others. A boy draped in white, with lightning at his command. One they call the White Guardian."
A flicker of electricity whispered through the hall, as though the very mention of the name tore a wound in reality.
Shizuka's eyes narrowed. "So, even he's around."
Fate grinned, resting his chin on his palm. "This will be fun."
The elder slammed his staff, finalizing the decree. "You will march at dawn. The fate of this world rests on your bound hands."
The words echoed, heavy, binding. The ceremony was complete.
Yet in the shadows of the hall, unseen by the rest, a faint spark of lightning crackled before vanishing—like someone had already been listening.
^^^
Later...
The announcement of the Nine Lost, and the ominous tease of Shirou Itsuki, the White Guardian.
The hall was long emptied. The echo of the elder's decree still lingered in everyone's chest. At dawn, the Orders would march.
But not Fate.
Instead, he walked lazily down a spiral path carved into the mountain, hands still shoved into his coat pockets. His deputy, a slim figure with restless eyes, struggled to keep up.
"Shouldn't you be preparing, Master?"
Fate tilted his head, his silver-streaked hair catching the moonlight. "Preparation is for people who don't trust themselves."
The deputy sighed. "Or for people who don't want to die."
Fate chuckled. "Details."
At the mountain's base sprawled a colossal fortress glowing faintly with soul energy—the Soul Base, where warriors trained to harness the fragments of their essence. Its walls shimmered with protective wards. Inside, hundreds of soldiers and adepts were sparring, chanting, and meditating.
As Fate entered, the energy shifted. People stepped aside, whispers trailing him like shadows.
"Is that him?""The Head of Fate's Order…""They say he never loses a battle.""They also say he never takes anything seriously."
Fate ignored them as always,, eyes scanning the courtyard.
Before the tension could flare, a new presence swept across the courtyard—calm, yet piercing. Shizuka entered, scrolls in hand, her aura commanding silence without a word.
"The Lost are already moving," she announced. "Reports came this morning—two villages reduced to ash by lightning. The White Guardian has begun his hunt."
The entire courtyard froze.
Fate's smile sharpened. "So, Shirou Itsuki wants to play early. Interesting."
Neva clenched her jaw. "This isn't a game."
"Everything is a game," Fate said softly, his gaze lifting to the storm clouds forming far in the distance. Lightning flickered within them, as if answering the call of a name spoken too often.
And somewhere beyond that horizon, in the ruins of a village, a boy in white stood silently amidst the ashes. His dual blades hummed with thunder, and his eyes were cold, unreadable.
"so,guess i'll finally see you shizuka." he said vanishing into the cold air leaving nothing but sparks
CHAPTER END.