The sky was on fire. Buildings burned like paper. Sirens screamed. Smoke swallowed the sun. People ran in every direction as explosions tore through the streets.
"THIS WAY!" Damien shouted, waving civilians toward the underground tunnel. "Follow the signs! Don't stop running!" They listened.
Everyone was panicking, their country and another country has been rivals ever since and now both countries were in chaos, they fought hard, the militaries helped their country and Damien was among the military.
He would die for his country without regret, he had no one so he didn't have anything more.
Damien didn't know why he had taken charge. Maybe instinct. Maybe desperation. But someone had to move. Someone had to decide.
Another explosion ripped through the street behind them. Concrete rained from above. Children cried. A mother tripped. Damien pulled her up.
"Go! Keep moving!" People lined up running towards the tunnel, shouting and crying, noice of bombs and fire filled the city.
Then he saw him. Across the ruined road, kneeling in the open street. "Ethan?!" Damien's voice cracked. His best friend knelt on broken asphalt, hands clasped, head bowed.
"God… please save us… please…" Another siren wailed. A shadow passed overhead.
Damien's heart dropped. A bomb. Falling fast. "ETHAN! GET UP!" Damien screamed, running toward him. Ethan didn't move.
"It's over," Ethan whispered. "If God wants me, I'll go."
The bomb whistled as it descended. Damien grabbed his shoulders. "You have a family! Your wife! Your little girl! GET UP! You don't want your kid to grow up without a father, she's young, now please leave."
Ethan slowly spread his arms wide, years filled his eyes as they dropped fast, he walked like a child.
Something inside Damien snapped. He couldn't let him die like this. Not like this.
With one final surge, Damien shoved Ethan with everything he had. "RUN!" The world exploded, the bomb hit where Damien was and he got enveloped by the fire it caused.
Damien's body was thrown backward like paper in a storm. Somewhere far away, he heard Ethan screaming his name. But Damien couldn't feel anything anymore, his eyes closing slowly, his heart slowly beating.
---
Darkness, but his mind was still active. Why do I feel alive? And why can't I move? He tried to open his eyes. Nothing, he tried to breathe, nothing.
His body was gone, yet his thoughts remained, what's happening? Then, a feminine voice.
"You are going to be reborn as the First Zodiac God."
Damien then asked, "Zodiac God? What is that?"
"Zodiac Gods are God's named after all zodiac signs, thay are dominions."
Aries - Dominion over war.
Taurus - Dominion of foundation.
Gemini - Dominion of duality.
Cancer - Dominion of tides.
Leo - Dominion of sovereignity.
Virgo - Dominion of purity.
Libra - Dominion of balance.
Scorpio - Dominion of poison.
Sagittarius - Dominion of underworld.
Capricorn - Dominion of authority.
Aquarius - Dominion over innovations
Pisces - Dominion of illusion.
"But you will not remember anything, the one thing you would remember is the mission, to kill the seven doziac sins that you created and they will be reborn to your world."
"No—wait! What are the seven doziac sins" he tried to shout. Silence. The presence faded.
Darkness swallowed everything. Series of doctors were in the room, the baby was refusing to come out, they didn't understand why, the woman continued pushing but nothing was coming out.
"Why is this happening? What's happening?" The man beside his wife asked the doctor's.
"The baby is refusing to come out," then they heated a baby's cry. "He's out, what in the world!" The doctor exclaimed so as the other doctors.
"What is it? Why are you all acting surprised?" The man asked again.
"His hair and eyes are all white." The doctor took the baby and gave him to the father. "And worst of all, there's no zodiac sign."
"How is that possible? He took the baby abruptly and he reviewed the baby and was shocked that they were saying the truth, no zodiac sign, this was an anomaly. "You'll have to help me give him an artificial mark of Aries." The first child with no birthmark, this wasn't a gift, a child with no birthmark is a terrifyingly rare case.
The birthmark appears within minutes of birth glowing faintly on the skin, shaped like a constellation. It determines your future, It proves you are chosen by the heavens.
So when a child is born without one…everyone would immediately suspect three things:
The child was rejected by the Zodiac.
The child is cursed.
Or worse, the child exists outside celestial law.
Without a mark, the child has, No assigned Dominion. No noble protection. No place in the Zodiac hierarchy. No guaranteed future.
Socially, it would mean, Nobles see them as defective, commoners see them as unlucky, mages and powerful people may call them an omen. Some extremists may believe they should not exist at all. Some would want to kill them because they might become something unstoppable. That was what people believed would happen when a child with no mark is born.
In a society built on destiny, being signless is the same as being invisible or dangerous. Because if everyone's fate is written in the zodiacs.
"Please don't tell anyone, whatever happens in this room remain here." The doctors nodded and left. He kissed his wife that was fast asleep, weak from doing all the push, "I'll name you Damon." He stared at the baby with white hair and white pupil-less eyes. His child was nothing like any other child and he smiled realizing, the special being his wife gave birth to.
When the baby coughed, a little orb was created with his mouth and he moved his hand to it and use his index finger to burst the bubble, with writings on the air, DAMON that vanished suddenly. The man was surprised and stared at it then at the baby who was now fast asleep.
One week later.
His father and mother stared wide-eyed. They had woken to a strange sound, not crying. Footsteps, small, soft and sow.
His father turned toward the crib, it was empty. "…Elena," he said quietly. "Tell me you see that too."
His wife followed his gaze, and froze. Their one-week-old son was standing in the middle of the room. Not crawling, standing and scratching his butt that was wrapped with a diaper.
But he didn't look like a one-week-old. His body looked closer to a two-year-old's, taller, steadier, limbs slightly longer than they should have been.
And his white eyes stared at them calmly. Then he spoke. "Food."
Silence.
His mother blinked. "…What?"