Dawn had barely brushed the tops of the hills when Desa Laren was still wrapped in a thin veil of mist. The morning air was cold, carrying the scent of wet earth and the smoke of wood fires from the villagers' homes as they slowly came to life. In the distance, small birds fluttered away from the branches of an ancient tree, as if afraid of waking something that had been sleeping too long within the forest.
Kael Vireon stood in the backyard of his small house, gripping a wooden stick about the length of his arm. The tip had been wrapped in old cloth so it would not be too slippery, but even so, his palms were already turning red from repeated practice. He let out a short breath, then swung his makeshift "sword" through the air once more.
One slash.
Two slashes.
Three slashes.
His movements were neither graceful nor fast, and they were clearly nothing like those of a skilled swordsman. But Kael kept repeating them with a blank expression, as though he were fighting an invisible enemy.
"If your hands are still that stiff, even a chicken could slash you back."
The voice came from the back door of the house.
Kael stopped and turned his head. An old man stood in the doorway, holding a wooden cup filled with warm tea. His hair had long since turned white, his face was lined with age, but his eyes were still sharp. His name was Eron, the only person in the village who rarely spoke nonsense.
Kael snorted softly. "Chickens in our village don't carry swords."
"Then you'd still lose to a chicken without a weapon," Eron replied lazily.
Kael stared at him for a moment, then turned back and resumed swinging the stick. "I'm being serious."
"Being serious doesn't mean being stiff."
"That's not what I meant."
Eron took a sip of his tea and walked over. He studied Kael's stance, then lightly tapped his shin with the end of his wooden spoon.
Kael grimaced. "That hurts."
"Good. That means you're still alive."
Kael let out a long breath. He was already used to Eron's way of speaking, which always sounded like mockery, even though the old man was sometimes genuinely trying to help. In the past, Eron had once been a high-level fighter, though few people in the village knew just how far he had gone. All they knew was one thing: if Eron said something, it was best to listen.
Kael lowered the stick. "I want to go to Arkhaven City next month."
Eron did not answer immediately. He only looked at Kael for a moment before setting his cup on the wooden fence.
"Because of the awakening test?" Eron asked.
Kael nodded. "All the kids my age will be taking it. If I pass, I can enter the academy. If I fail… well, at least I'll know where I stand."
"And you're hoping your fate won't be too bad."
"I'm hoping my fate won't be boring."
Eron chuckled softly, then looked up at the brightening sky. "The world doesn't care about your hopes, Kael. The world only cares how well you endure."
Kael fell silent.
Those words sounded heavy, but that did not mean he failed to understand them. In Eclipsia, strength was not merely an advantage. Strength was a language. The weak would be forgotten, the strong would be remembered, and those standing at the peak would either be feared or worshipped.
There were six known levels of power in the world.
The first was the beginning. The second was mastery. The third was form. The fourth was domain. The fifth was destruction. And the sixth… it existed only in whispers, like the name of a god that should not be spoken lightly.
Level Six, the creator of worlds.
Kael had heard many versions of it. Some said it was nothing but a legend. Some said humans could never reach it. Others believed that there had once been a few who truly succeeded in creating their own worlds, small worlds that stood beyond the rules of the main one.
But all those tales felt far too distant from his life in Desa Laren.
Until today.
"Kael!"
A loud voice from the front of the house made them both turn around. A brown-haired girl came running over, carrying a basket filled with warm bread. Her name was Mira, Kael's childhood friend, whose mouth moved faster than her thoughts.
"I've been looking for you everywhere," she said as she placed the basket on the wooden table. "You're still training with that stick? Pathetic."
Kael crossed his arms. "Then don't come just to mock me."
"I'm not mocking you. I'm entertaining you."
"The difference is barely there."
Mira grinned, then looked at Eron. "Morning, Old Sir."
"Morning, noisy child."
"See? Even he admits I'm energetic."
Eron shook his head slightly, then turned and went back into the house. "You two should eat breakfast before you kill each other with words."
Kael picked up a piece of bread. It was still warm. The scent of wheat and honey filled his nose, making his stomach, which had been empty since morning, begin to complain.
Mira sat on the fence and watched Kael eat quickly. "The announcement for the awakening test applicants is tomorrow, right?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure you'll pass?"
Kael shrugged. "I don't know."
"That is a very unconvincing answer."
"Because I'm not sure."
Mira looked at him for a moment, then said in a slightly softer tone, "If you fail, don't give up right away. Not everyone has a good beginning."
Kael looked down at the bread in his hand. Something in Mira's voice made him pause for a second. His friend rarely sounded serious, so when that tone appeared, it usually meant she truly cared.
"I know," Kael answered quietly.
The morning wind passed through the trees. For a few seconds, everything felt calm. Too calm.
Then the ground trembled.
It was not a strong quake, only a brief jolt, as though something enormous had moved far beneath the surface of the earth. Eron's cup inside the house rattled slightly. A few birds immediately took flight from the branches. Mira jumped down from the fence.
"An earthquake?" she asked.
Kael stiffened. "It doesn't feel like one."
Eron came outside again, his expression already far more serious than before. He stared toward the north, toward the hill that separated the village from the dense forest.
And when Kael followed his gaze, he saw it.
The sky.
A thin black line had appeared across the morning sky, stretching from one side of the clouds to the other. At first glance, it looked like a crack in a giant pane of glass. Thin. Silent. But real.
Kael blinked once.
The line was still there.
Mira took a step back. "What… is that?"
Eron did not answer right away. His eyes narrowed. His usually calm face now looked suddenly old, as though he were staring at something he had feared for a very long time.
"Go inside," he said.
Kael looked at him. "What is it?"
"Now."
The weight in Eron's voice made Kael move at once. Mira followed quickly as well. But before Kael could fully step inside, a low, piercing sound rang from the sky.
Like the air itself was being torn apart.
The black crack widened a little.
Then something fell from it.
A small dark object, spinning through the air like a shard of burning crystal. It streaked straight toward the hill and crashed into the ground outside the village with a low explosion.
The impact shook the earth again, stronger than before.
A few seconds later, a faint red light rose from beyond the hill.
Kael stared at it, then muttered without thinking, "What was that?"
Eron looked toward the hill with an expression that could no longer be read. "Something that should never have fallen into this world."
Mira swallowed hard. "I-Is it dangerous?"
"If I had to guess," Eron said quietly, "very."
Kael kept staring in the direction of the explosion. Something inside his chest was being disturbed, like curiosity being forcibly pulled by an unseen hand. He had never seen the sky crack before. Never felt the air turn this cold just because of a single black line above his head. And the strangest part of all… he felt like that thing was calling to him.
Not with a voice.
More like an echo.
From deep within his own body.
Kael placed a hand over his chest. His heart was pounding hard.
"Kael," Eron said, his voice lower than before, "do not leave the village today."
Kael turned to him. "Why?"
"Because if this is what I think it is," Eron replied, "then something is waking up."
Kael wanted to ask more, but before he could open his mouth, another sound rang out from the distance.
A scream.
Not from the village.
From the direction of the hill.
Then another sound followed—a panicked cry, then the clash of metal, as if people were already fighting.
Mira's face turned pale. "There's someone there!"
Kael looked at Eron, waiting for a stronger warning. But the old man only fell silent, as though weighing something far worse than simply ignoring advice.
At last, Eron said, "If you go out there now, you may not come back as the same person."
Kael tightened his grip on the practice stick.
In the distance, the red light behind the hill grew brighter, and the black crack in the sky still hung above them like an open wound.
In a world ruled by six levels of power, on an ordinary day that should have passed quietly, the sky had just cracked open.
And for some reason, Kael knew one thing for certain.
His boring life had just come to an end.