Far removed from the technological roar of Earth, nestled in a forgotten corner of a distant galaxy, lay a planet named Azura.
It was a world with a unique atmosphere. The sky was rarely a clear blue; instead, it was often veiled by thin, luminescent streaks of energy that pulsed faintly against the heavens. Yet, this celestial beauty betrayed the harsh reality below. The planet was fractured into continents governed by rigid social hierarchies. Among them, the continent of Asfel was known as the most desolate—a land seemingly forsaken by the march of progress.
In a remote corner of Asfel sat the small town of Asera. Surrounded by jagged limestone hills and dense, ancient forests, the settlement felt carved from the earth itself. The architecture was primitive, dominated by sturdy timber and rough-hewn stone, a world away from any futuristic vision.
On this particular night, the wind howled, rattling the oil lanterns hanging on the porches. The town was silent, save for one house set apart from the rest, where tension hung thick in the air.
This was the home of the Argus family, a household led by a respected elder. Though humble, the home was usually warm and well-kept. Tonight, however, that warmth had been replaced by a suffocating anxiety.
In the master bedroom, a young woman named Elara fought for her life. Sweat drenched her body, her breath coming in ragged gasps between stifled cries of pain. An old midwife offered gentle but firm instructions, trying to calm the exhausted mother-to-be.
Outside in the living room, upon the thick wooden floorboards, a young man paced relentlessly. It was Dorian, Elara's husband. His face was pale, his hands wringing together as he wiped cold sweat from his temples. This was the birth of their first child. Fear and hope swirled within him, driving his heart to beat a frantic rhythm.
Not far from Dorian sat an older man with a straight back and eyes that were sharp yet gentle. It was Grandfather Argus, Dorian's father and the patriarch of the house. His hand gripped his wooden cane so tightly his knuckles turned white. Though he projected the calm stoicism of a pillar for his family, internally, Argus was just as terrified. He was awaiting his first grandson, the heir to his bloodline in this unforgiving land.
"Sit down, Dorian," Argus's voice broke the silence, heavy and authoritative. "You're making the floor dizzy with your pacing."
Dorian paused, looking at his father with wild eyes. "I can't stay calm, Father. It's been hours. What if something happens to Elara? What if..."
"Trust your wife," Argus cut him off calmly. "Elara is a strong woman. She will give us a healthy heir."
However, just as the sentence left his lips, something anomalous occurred outside.
The usually placid night sky of Planet Azura changed.
Without warning, without the gathering of storm clouds, a strange phenomenon manifested in the heavens. A flash of blindingly bright light tore through the darkness. It did not move with the grace of a falling star; its trajectory was wild, jagged, and violent.
Accompanying the light was a sound that pierced the eardrums.
VWUUUUUNG!
It was an alien sound—a high-frequency hum that materialized and vanished in the blink of an eye. The vibration resonated through the ground, rattling the window panes across the town of Asera.
Townspeople who had been asleep bolted awake. They rushed out of their homes, looking up at the sky with faces etched in confusion and fear.
"What was that?"
"Was it a falling star?"
"It sounded like the sky was screaming!"
Panic began to ripple through the streets. On the continent of Asfel, unnatural phenomena were often interpreted as bad omens. Whispers spread, debating whether this was a warning of impending disaster or simply the wrath of nature.
In reality, the flash of light had a specific purpose. It did not fall at random. Moving at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye, it dove sharply toward the continent of Asfel, aiming straight for the town of Asera.
Inside the Argus home, the tremor was felt distinctly. Dorian nearly stumbled in shock. "An earthquake?"
"No," Argus muttered, his eyes fixed on the vibrating window. "That was something else."
Unnoticed by anyone, the flash of light—now shrunk to a microscopic speck—pierced the roof of their wooden house without leaving a single mark or scratch. It moved with intent, darting through the walls of the delivery room.
The light slipped gently into Elara's body as she gave a final, desperate push, merging seamlessly with the infant fighting to enter the world.
A second later, the silence of the night was shattered by the sound they had been waiting for.
Waaah! Waaah!
The cry of a baby, loud and strong, echoed through the room.
Instantly, the strange phenomenon in the sky vanished. The heavens returned to darkness and silence, as if the flash had never existed.
The bedroom door opened. The midwife stepped out, her face beaming as she wiped sweat from her brow. "Master Dorian, Master Argus! Congratulations! The baby is born safe and sound. It is a son!"
Dorian exhaled a long breath, his legs nearly giving way with relief. He rushed into the room, followed by Grandfather Argus, who walked with steady, deliberate steps.
On the bed, Elara cradled a tiny, red infant. He looked like any ordinary newborn. His skin was flushed, his tiny fingers grasping at the air. But to Dorian and Elara, he was everything.
"He is perfect," Elara whispered, her voice hoarse but filled with joy.
Dorian kissed his wife's forehead, then looked at his son with teary eyes. "Thank you, Elara. Thank you."
Grandfather Argus approached, gazing at his first grandson with a rare smile of pride. "My first grandson. The successor of the Argus family."
They agreed on a name that was strong yet simple.
Kael.
News of Kael's birth quickly spread to the neighbors, transforming the tension of the celestial phenomenon into celebration. That very night, the extended Argus family held a modest feast.
The family was not large. Besides Grandfather Argus as the head, there was Dorian as the eldest son, and his two younger siblings who had come to visit. The household also included several loyal retainers—people who had served Argus since his youth and were considered kin.
Simple food was served: wheat bread, smoked meat, and warm drinks. Laughter and banter filled the living room.
"May Kael grow strong like his grandfather!" shouted one of the loyal retainers, raising his glass.
"May he bring fortune to this family!" added another.
Dorian smiled, but behind it, he hid a sliver of anxiety. He gazed out the window, contemplating his son's future on this continent.
On Asfel, everyone knew a bitter truth: a child's fate was seemingly sealed from their first breath. They were born as "outcasts." Here, there was no access to the advanced technology or higher education found on the continents across the sea. The children of Asfel were destined to be laborers, farmers, or servants. Upward social mobility was a myth. The stigma of the lower class clung to them for life.
The Argus family understood this completely. However, tonight, Grandfather Argus chose to set aside that harsh reality. To him, the birth of his first grandson was an absolute blessing to be celebrated, regardless of the cruel world they inhabited.
Time flowed rapidly. Seasons changed on Planet Azura.
Seven years later.
Kael was now seven years old. He had grown into a healthy, agile boy with an insatiable curiosity.
The spacious backyard of the Argus estate was his favorite playground. However, Kael was different from other children his age. While others played tag, Kael preferred to rummage through piles of scrap in the back shed.
He was often seen sitting for hours, surrounded by rusted metal scraps and the remnants of broken farming tools.
"What are you making, Kael?" Dorian asked one afternoon, finding his son seriously connecting two rusty gears.
Kael looked up, his face smudged with oil and dust, but his eyes shining with intelligence. "I'm making a bird scarer, Father. If the wind spins this, the noise will scare the birds away from the fields."
Dorian was stunned. He watched as the simple device worked exactly as Kael described. From a distance, Grandfather Argus and Elara watched, smiling and shaking their heads.
"He is clever," Elara murmured proudly. "Too clever for a child his age."
Grandfather Argus nodded in agreement. "His imagination surpasses what is taught here. It is a pity..."
Argus let the sentence hang. He knew the limitations of this continent all too well. In Asfel, there were no engineering schools or science academies. Kael's intellect, if not properly channeled, would end up as wasted talent in the middle of a wheat field.
However, on Planet Azura, intelligence was not the sole determinant of power. There was something far more fundamental to every human on this planet: the Energy Core.
Every human on Azura was born with a natural energy vessel located in the lower abdomen. This vessel was the source of vitality and power. However, it remained dormant at birth. It had to be "awakened."
In Asfel, the process of awakening the Energy Core was a sacred, yet discriminatory event. The Energy Awakening Ceremony was held only once a year, centralized in a single location: the continental capital, Ashora.
Access was restricted and strictly controlled. To awaken an Energy Core, one required a rare object known as a Genesis Crystal. This artifact emitted a pure resonance capable of triggering the dormant energy vessel within the human body.
Tragically, the poverty and injustice of Asfel made the Genesis Crystal an impossible dream for commoners. The continental government provided only a single crystal to serve millions. And to use it, parents had to pay a suffocating fee: 100 Nera.
Nera was the currency of Azura. To the nobles of other continents, 100 Nera might be pocket change. But for the residents of Asfel, who lived hand-to-mouth, 100 Nera was a fortune. Many families saved for years, or fell into debt, just for a brief chance to touch the crystal.
Consequently, many parents gave up. They allowed their children to grow up without awakening their Energy Core, resigning them to a fate as weak, ordinary humans.
Yet, according to local knowledge passed down through generations, the golden age for awakening was between 7 and 8 years old. At this age, a child's body was considered most receptive and pure, ensuring a high success rate. Beyond that age, the energy vessel would harden, becoming increasingly difficult to activate.
Kael was now seven. The time had come.
One month later, the grand Energy Awakening Ceremony was scheduled to take place in Ashora. Only five days remained until registration closed.
The atmosphere in the town of Asera became frenzied. Parents gathered in the town square, discussing travel plans. Faces filled with hope mingled with those etched with anxiety.
"Are you going this year?" a neighbor asked Dorian as they passed on the street.
Dorian gave a thin smile, offering no definitive answer. He knew the neighbor had just sold two heads of cattle to scrape together the 100 Nera, hoping his child would become an Energy Master—a title of honor for those with high energy potential. Becoming an Energy Master was the only ticket out of Asfel's poverty.
However, unlike his neighbors who were busy packing, the Argus household remained quiet. There were no preparations for a long journey. No bundles of supplies, no carriage waiting.
That night, in the tightly closed living room, Grandfather Argus summoned Dorian and Elara.
The air in the room was heavy with secrecy. Grandfather Argus walked toward an old wooden chest in the corner, a piece of furniture rarely touched. With hands that trembled slightly but moved with resolve, he unlocked it.
"We do not need to go to Ashora," Argus said softly, his voice barely a whisper.
Dorian looked at his father, confused. "Father, what do you mean? Kael is seven. If we don't go now..."
Argus turned around. In his rough palm lay an object emitting a dim but beautiful light. A clear crystal the size of a fist, with a core that pulsed slowly like a heartbeat.
Dorian and Elara's eyes went wide. Their breath hitched.
"This is..." Elara covered her mouth in disbelief.
"A Genesis Crystal," Argus finished. "I have kept it since my youth, long before these hard times fell upon us. No one outside this room knows I possess it."
Dorian stared at the crystal in awe. Owning such an object privately in Asfel was incredibly dangerous, yet an extraordinary blessing.
"We do not need to pay 100 Nera to that greedy government," Argus declared firmly, his sharp gaze locking onto his son and daughter-in-law. "We will awaken Kael's energy right here. In our own way."
The decision was made. Amidst the despair of the Asfel continent, the Argus family held a secret that could change Kael's destiny forever.