With tangled, unkempt hair, wrinkled clothes, and a cloak torn across the back, Genshiki stepped out of the forest. The ground around him instantly withered, the grass shriveling as if swept away by a merciless drought.
He restrained the power, locking it tightly within—because something far greater awaited.
Above, a meteor—ten football fields wide—blazed across the sky, set to crash into the city. People ran in panic, abandoning their homes, but Genshiki walked in the opposite direction. His destination: the towering clock tower at the city's heart.
"Funny… how do they know something big is about to fall here?" he muttered, watching the crowd flee.
Climbing the tower's winding steps, his gaze turned vacant, lips tightening as though an old memory threatened to resurface.
"Ah, right. This city has seers who can divine the future. Just like Earth—except there it's NASA, and here… it's sorcerers."
He tossed a pebble into the air, catching it again, as if the coming destruction meant nothing.
At the tower's peak, the massive gears of the clock groaned behind him. Genshiki stretched out on the stone floor before the giant mechanism, lying back casually, one leg crossed over the other, staring at the sky.
"Still a while, huh… ahhh." He sighed.
Minutes passed.
A black speck emerged above the horizon. Larger, and larger still, until the meteor's monstrous form loomed in the heavens. Genshiki raised his right arm. A small pebble balanced at his fingertip, ready to flick.
"Oh, that's a big one. Hmm… will this be enough?" he whispered.
With a casual snap, the pebble sailed toward the falling giant—slowly, almost pathetically.
Meanwhile, alarm horns blared across the city. Soldiers and sorcerers scrambled to fortify defenses, evacuating citizens. Yet one family refused to leave. On his porch stood the head of the Adventurers' Guild, broad-shouldered, streaks of silver in his hair, his presence commanding.
"Hurry, sir! The meteor could strike any moment!" urged a soldier.
But the man only smiled faintly, eyes sharp on the sky.
"Do you really think I'll die so easily?"
"Please, sir! You must evacuate!"
He shook his head. "Not until you find the young man heading toward the city center. Have you seen him?"
"A young man?… No, we haven't," one soldier stammered, confused glances exchanged.
"Find him." The guildmaster's voice was heavy, resolute. "If he's reached the city's heart… then perhaps this city won't be doomed after all."
The soldiers, baffled but unwilling to argue, scattered through the crowd. None found him.
At the city square, great sorcerers gathered. A colossal blue circle glowed beneath their feet, its light rippling the air. Hundreds of voices chanted, their spells weaving as sweat poured down their faces.
An old mage collapsed to his knees, gasping. "No… impossible…
Its size… too insane! Even the highest annihilation spell won't suffice!"
Another mage, trembling, forced himself to look up. "No, old man… we can do this. We'll cast in unison!"
The elder shook his head, dim eyes extinguishing. "Even combined… we cannot break something so vast."
A younger sorcerer overheard, staring skyward in despair. "So… is this where it ends for us?"
A commander clenched his fist. "Then let us die as heroes." His grin was sharp, defiant.
Silence swept through the ranks. Then, one by one, soldiers nodded. Some fought back tears, some forced a smile. If this was the end, they would fall with honor.
The city drowned in despair. Even the bravest began to falter.
And then—the sky trembled.
The pebble crept forward, weak, unthreatening.
The world seemed to hold its breath. Even the great clock's ticking paused.
BOOM!
The heavens shattered. The colossal meteor split from within, erupting into thousands of radiant fragments. Blinding white light rained like falling stars. Buildings shook, windows burst, towers swayed—but the ground remained untouched.
The people froze mid-flight, breathless. Some collapsed, others lifted tearful eyes heavenward. Words of prayer tangled in their throats, unable to form.
The soldiers and mages who had resigned to death stood stunned, hands limp at their sides. Where once only terror lived, now bloomed fragile hope.
Beyond the walls, refugees halted. Above them spread a sky alight with falling stars, fragments burning harmlessly into nothing. Joy erupted through the streets.
"Is this… a dream?" someone whispered, eyes wet.
"We… we're alive!"
"It must be the sorcerers' doing!" cried another, overwhelmed.
"Yes… we owe them our pride."
From his porch, the guildmaster lit an empty wooden pipe—a mere habit—and smiled faintly.
"… That boy. Just as I thought."
At the tower's peak, Genshiki still lounged, one arm tucked behind his head. He snorted.
"Hah… too easy. I thought I'd at least break a sweat."
Meteor shards streamed like a starry rain, none reaching earth, burning away harmlessly. Rising to his feet, his ragged cloak fluttering in the wind, he gazed down upon the city.
"So this is what it feels like… to hold a power that could erase the world?" he murmured, lips curling into a cold, merciless smile.
Meanwhile, among the sorcerers, pale faces traded anxious glances.
"Was it you… who cast that spell?" one asked, voice trembling.
"No! I didn't even finish my incantation!" another cried.
"Neither did I… there's no way we could destroy something that massive!"
"Then who… who did it?"
Silence. Confusion. Eyes lifted skyward.
But one young mage squinted at the tower in the distance, uncertainty gnawing. "I… thought I saw a figure up there…"
"Don't be ridiculous. No one could stand against a meteor like that," scoffed his comrade.
Yet the shadow of that cloaked figure lingered in his mind.
At that same moment, memories of his parents struck Genshiki like a blade. His breath hitched, voice raw with grief:
"Tch… what's left for me to protect now?"
As dusk fell, he descended from the tower. His steps staggered, face pale, aim fixed: the ruins of his parents' old home.
"How long… has it been since I last went there…" he whispered weakly, stomach growling.
Through the streets, citizens re-entered the city, singing, cheering, clinging to loved ones, lighting torches. None spared him a glance. To them, he was invisible.
And there, in the crowd, Genshiki collapsed. His knees buckled, body hitting the dusty ground. Vision blurred, he dimly saw a woman rushing toward him.
"Hey! Are you all right!?" her voice quivered with worry.
In her face, flickering, appeared his mother's—just for a moment—before fading.
The woman knelt, panicked. "Father! Father, quick! A young man's collapsed here!"
From a nearby hall emerged a middle-aged man. His hair was streaked with white, his robe patched and worn, yet his gaze cut sharp, commanding respect. A wooden pipe hung idly from his hand.
The guildmaster. The man all soldiers respected, all mages revered.
"Hm?" He looked Genshiki over, chuckling softly. "This boy… pale as death. More starved than wounded, I'd say."
"Father, don't joke!" the woman snapped. "He'll die if we leave him here!"
The man shrugged, calm. "Fine, fine. Bring him. The Adventurers' Guild shelters not only warriors, but strays who collapse in the street as well."
With a frustrated sigh, she helped lift Genshiki carefully. The guildmaster led the way, pipe still dangling, eyes never leaving the unconscious youth.
And so, Genshiki was carried into the guild—unaware this single step would ignite a meeting destined to change his life forever.