The eldest, Atli Rognir, was born amidst a roaring storm, his veins pulsing with the blue-white current of the Heavens. The second, QJ, arrived with a radiance that turned night into day, his eyes glowing with the pure Light of Truth. The third, Lash, was born under a alignment of stars so rare it had never been seen before, granting him the ability to weave the golden threads of Luck itself.
Then there was the youngest. Kyoku.
When Kyoku was born, there was no storm. There was no light. There was only a sudden, heavy silence that made the Midwives' hearts skip a beat. He was the quietest child the Realm had ever seen.
"He is just gentle," his mother would whisper, cradling him. "He carries a power that requires a still soul."
But the soul of a child is never truly still.
The tragedy happened on a night that should have been a celebration. Kyoku was only seven years old. He had been having a nightmare—a dark, suffocating dream where he was being pulled away from his family into a deep, black ocean. In his sleep, he reached out. He reached for the warmth he felt nearby.
He reached for his parents.
Kyoku woke up to a world that was suddenly too quiet. The warm glow of the hearth was gone. The soft breathing of his mother was gone. The protective presence of his father was gone.
In their place, there was only gray dust.
"Mother? Father?" Kyoku's small voice cracked. He looked at his hands. They were trembling, surrounded by a faint, flickering aura of deep violet that seemed to swallow the shadows themselves.
The door to the chambers flew open. Atli Rognir stood there, his hair standing on end as lightning crackled around his fists. Behind him, QJ held a sphere of Light that illuminated the room, revealing the two piles of ash on the bed.
"Kyoku... what have you done?" QJ's voice was a whisper of pure horror.
"I didn't... I just wanted a hug..." Kyoku sobbed, stepping toward them. "Brother, please! Help me!"
"STAY BACK!" Atli roared. A bolt of thunder slammed into the floor between them, scorching the stone. He wasn't looking at a grieving boy. He was looking at an Anomaly. A glitch in the divine order. "You killed them. You erased them!"
Kyoku looked toward Lash, the God of Luck. Lash was the only one who didn't raise a weapon. He stood in the back, his eyes wide and watery. He could see the "Fate" of the room. He saw that the probability of Kyoku being a monster was 0%, but the probability of the world surviving him was also 0%.
Lash looked away. He chose the world over his brother.
"He cannot be controlled," QJ declared, his Light hardening into solid crystalline chains. "He is not a God of Life. He is the God of the Fallen Era. If he stays, everything dies."
The betrayal was faster than the accident. Before Kyoku could even process the death of his parents, he was being dragged down into the lowest depths of the Aetheric Temple.
"I'm sorry, Kyoku," Lash whispered as the heavy stone doors of the Abyssal Void began to close. "It's just... bad luck."
"NO! BROTHER! DON'T LEAVE ME!"
The seal slammed shut. Thunder forged the lock. Light built the walls. Luck rigged the probability so the door would never open.
Kyoku was left in total, crushing darkness. He waited for them to come back. He waited for days. Then years. Then centuries.
He didn't know that his brothers had told the world he had died along with their parents. He didn't know they were being worshipped as heroes while he sat in the dirt, starving for a single touch that wouldn't result in death.
Slowly, the sadness began to rot. It turned into a cold, hard stone in his chest. He looked at his hands, the same hands that had turned his parents to dust, and he stopped crying.
If they want a monster, Kyoku thought, his eyes glowing with a dark, forbidden violet, I will give them one.
Far above, in the world of the living, a crack appeared on the floor of the Great Temple. The "Luck" was finally running out.