Chapter 1: Kyron's Awakening
The wind cut like a blade through the streets of Zeraph's capital. It always did this time of year, funnelling down between the vertical towers like a predator searching for weakness. Above it all, the Control Tower loomed — a dark spire reaching beyond the clouds, wrapped in the low hum of the city's plasma dome. Even the Exotics stayed away from here.
I stood in its shadow, unmoving. Only my eyes shifted — calm, calculating… hollow. It's been four years since I had a real home. Four years since I was given a fake name. Four years since I stopped being anyone's son.
My name is Kael Draen. At least, that's the name people know.
But my bloodline is Rehaven — one of the ancient Houses, born from the chaos that followed the Worldbreak. Back when the first Exotics tore through cities and magic began to infect our skies. The name Rehaven doesn't need introduction. People either fear it or want to kill it.
Our House carries many traditions. One of them is this:At the age of ten, every heir is cast out. No warnings. No farewells. Just silence… and exile.
But we're not left with nothing. We're given a sum of money most people wouldn't earn in three lifetimes. And we're assigned a guardian — an assistant trained since childhood to protect and monitor us. Their loyalty is conditioned, but absolute.
The rest is a game of shadows. Not war in the traditional sense. No declarations, no armies.Just silent moves. Poisoned words. Disappearances.
A race to survive — and win.
You don't know your enemies. You only know this:Your brothers and sisters are out there.And they all want to be the heir.
So do you.
Shortly before my twelfth birthday, someone tried to kill me. I still don't know who it was. A sibling, perhaps. Another House, maybe. Or someone trying to make a statement — that I was weak. My assistant died that day. She died saving me. Her name was Elira.
She handed me her necklace with her final breath — a silver chain with a corestone that pulsed faintly blue in the dark. I've worn it ever since.It's the only thing I have left of her.
I held her hand until her skin turned cold.
And when I finally let go, something inside me changed.
Before that, I still believed in fairness.In logic. In rules.I believed I could outsmart the system. But the system doesn't care how smart you are.It only cares whether you're alive. Since then, I stopped believing. I started learning. I studied everything — politics, genetics, energy theory, alien warfare, bloodlines, personality profiling.I observed. I waited. I built walls inside my mind, sealed tight. And I planned.
You see, I've always had a gift — something I was born with. A mind that never stops. That calculates, adjusts, memorizes patterns, and sees things others don't.They called it hyperintelligence when I was younger. But it's more than that.
I see people not as they are… but as they could be.