Circa Spring, 1917
The halls of Saint Everlight High whispered of secrets. The scent of polished wood and pressed uniforms lingered in the air as golden sunlight spilled through stained-glass windows, casting fractured rainbows onto the lacquered floors. It was the day of parting-caps and gowns, congratulatory speeches, tearful promises. Yet, amidst the celebration of futures unfolding, Mildred Sandy's sharp gaze was fixed on a single figure hidden in the shadows.
Walter Disney sat alone beneath the wide arched window at the far end of the corridor, his slender form barely making a sound as he scribbled in his leather-bound sketchbook. His short brown hair caught the light like burnt honey, his piercing blue eyes darting up only once-to glance her way-before returning bashfully to the page.
He didn't know.
Of course he didn't.
How could he?
To him, Mildred was the radiant flame that lit the school-untouchable, bold, brilliant. To everyone else, she was perfection incarnate: valedictorian, muse of countless letters never sent, the girl who knew answers before the questions were asked. But Walter... Walter was different. He saw none of that. Or perhaps he refused to. Perhaps he knew and simply stayed away, like a moth smart enough to avoid the fire.
She couldn't blame him.
She was terrifying when she loved.
"Mildred! You're up next!" a voice called from down the corridor.
She didn't respond right away. Her eyes remained on Walter, her heartbeat drumming with the quiet ache of unspoken things.
She had always watched him from afar. Shielded him from bullies without him knowing. Rearranged schedules, rewritten fates, sabotaged declarations of other girls just to keep them away from him. He had no idea that the girl with the golden eyes lived in orbit around his silence.
As she turned away, preparing for her final speech, she whispered a vow under her breath.
"I'll find you again, Walter... even if the world turns inside out."
The assembly roared as she stepped onto the stage. Her voice, strong and clear, held the command of a general and the warmth of summer. She spoke of dreams, of futures built on knowledge and passion, of the war on the horizon and the strength needed to face it.
And then, just as the final words left her lips, the sky cracked open.
Not a sound-no thunder, no warning-just a shimmer in the air like heat off desert sands. Light exploded, white and blinding, swallowing her where she stood.
The crowd screamed. Hats flew. Walter's sketchbook fell to the floor, pages fluttering open-revealing a perfect pencil portrait of Mildred with the caption:
"To the flame that watches from afar."
But she was already gone.
Vanished.
As if plucked from the world by the fingers of fate.
And in another realm far beyond time, beneath a sky of twin moons and blood-colored roses, a new name echoed for the first time...
Kaiden.