He had to test it. Now. Kael stood in the center of his small bedroom, his mind racing. A full-sized, "colossal divine eagle" was out of the question; it would vaporize his entire house.
But the system had called him "The Conductor." A conductor doesn't just unleash an orchestra's full, deafening power; he can call forth a single, quiet instrument.
Scale, he realized. If I am the one in command, I should be able to control the scale of the manifestation.
It was a dangerous assumption, a guess based on a half-understood title. But it was the only move he had.
He closed his eyes, focusing his intent. He pictured the divine eagle, but forced the image to shrink, to condense, to become something that could fit within the four walls of his room. He gathered the nascent fire in his chest, feeding it with his will.
The air grew thick, the pressure dropping as if before a storm. The scent of ozone and clean, high-altitude wind filled his lungs.
He raised a hand and spoke the command, his voice a low, firm whisper, imbued with an authority he didn't know he possessed.
"Descend."
A single point of light, no bigger than a marble, appeared in the air before him. It blazed with the intensity of a dying star, then unfolded with a silent, breathtaking speed.
Light and energy solidified into a physical form.
It was Garuda. Not the colossal beast from his vision, but a smaller version, no larger than a hawk. It landed silently on his desk, its talons making no sound on the wood. Every feather was a perfect, shimmering barb of burnished gold. Its presence was so immense, so heavy, that the very air in the room seemed to bend around it.
And its eyes… They were the same. Molten gold, ancient and piercing, they stared directly at Kael, holding the wisdom of a thousand ages.
Then, a voice filled his mind. It was not a sound, but a presence that resonated directly in his soul, like the rush of wind across a mountain peak.
Kael's breath hitched. He was face-to-face with a living myth. You can… hear my thoughts?
the voice replied.
As the mental words flowed into him, a crippling exhaustion suddenly slammed into Kael's body. The world tilted, his knees buckling as the stamina drain hit him like a physical blow. He gasped, planting a hand on the wall to keep from collapsing.
WHAM.
Garuda's golden eyes watched him, unblinking.
A new window flickered into existence, confirming the divine being's warning.
[Stamina critically low due to manifesting a physical summon.]
[Rest is required to recover.]
He was running on empty. With a ragged breath, he looked at the divine eagle sitting calmly on his desk. "Thank you."
The creature gave a slow, solemn dip of its head.
"Ascend," Kael whispered, the word barely leaving his lips.
Garuda dissolved into a thousand motes of golden light, which then winked out of existence. The pressure in the room vanished, and he was alone again.
He collapsed into his chair, his body drenched in sweat. He had a weapon. An ally. And now, he knew the devastating cost of bringing a living story into the real world.
A groan.Sunlight, sharp and intrusive, cut across Kael's face. He was sprawled on his bed, still in yesterday's clothes. His body felt like it was filled with lead, a deep, cellular exhaustion that sleep had barely dented.
For a moment, he thought it was all a nightmare. The golden light, the ancient eagle, the crushing backlash…
Then, a soundless chime echoed in his head.
Ding!
A golden window flickered to life in the bright morning air, its message stark and brutal.
[Special Mission: Defeat a Monster]
[Time Remaining: 28:14:55]
Kael's blood ran cold. He had slept through the entire night. Precious hours, gone.
The time for practice, for careful analysis, was over. The timer was a death sentence, and every second he wasted here was another step closer to his family being targeted.
He had to go. Now.
Adrenaline, sharp and clean, vaporized the exhaustion. He lurched to his feet, his movements becoming a blur.
Swoosh.
He threw on a dark hoodie.
Zip.
His worn backpack was open on his bed. Flashlight. Power bank. A small first-aid kit. Water bottles. The last of his cash from his desk drawer.
Each item was a piece of a puzzle he didn't want to solve. He was a student heading off to war.
He wrenched his bedroom door open and stormed downstairs, his heavy footsteps echoing in the hallway. He could smell coffee brewing. His family was awake.
He reached the bottom of the stairs and walked into the kitchen. His mother was at the stove, his father was reading the news on a tablet at the table, and his sister, Maya, was scrolling through her phone. Three pairs of eyes snapped up to look at him.
"Kael?" his father, Sutan, asked, lowering his tablet. "You're up. And packed. Going somewhere?"
He froze. The lie had to be good. It had to be fast. He defaulted to the foundation he'd already built.
"Morning," he said, his voice surprisingly calm. "Professor just sent an email. The surprise final I told you about? There's a mandatory field study group today. At a remote site."
Maya snorted from her side of the table. "On a Sunday? What kind of professor does that?"
"A tenured one who doesn't care about our weekend," Kael shot back without missing a beat.
His mother, Emi, turned from the stove, her sharp, intelligent eyes scanning him from head to toe. The backpack. The hoodie. The tension coiled in his shoulders.
She sees everything.
"This is very last minute, Kael," she said, her tone soft but unwavering. "Will you be back tonight?"
"Probably not," he said, the lie feeling like acid in his throat. "We'll likely stay overnight at a nearby hostel to finish the report. I'll text you."
His mother's gaze didn't waver. She knew he was a meticulous planner. She knew this was completely out of character. But she also saw the ironclad determination in his eyes, an intensity she had never seen before.
A long, silent moment passed between them.
She finally gave a small nod. "Alright, honey," she said. "At least have some breakfast before you go. Be safe."
"No time, Mom. I'll grab something on the way," he said, already moving toward the door. "I will be."
He walked out, not daring to look back. The warmth of his home, the smell of coffee, the normal sounds of his family's morning—it all faded, replaced by the bright, bustling noise of the new day.
He wasn't going to a study group. He was going to hunt.