"Legacy Byun Euijoo, you have been summoned."
The words echoed crisply through the marbled hall, sharp enough to cut through his wandering thoughts.
EJ rose smoothly from his seat, straightening the front of his uniform with practiced hands, fingers ghosting over the embroidered sigil of the Legacies stitched in silver thread at his collar. He glanced at his reflection in the glassy obsidian wall nearby, combing his dark hair back into place. Another day, another report to Captain Will, and, perhaps, another mission.
As he stepped into the open corridor, the Center unfolded before him like a scene from the oldest Celestial epics.
The Legacy Center — heart of the Emperor's army — was as breathtaking as it was intimidating. The ceiling, impossibly high, was inlaid with constellations that glowed faintly, though this realm never truly knew night. Below them, the grand bridge to the Emperor's palace stretched out, carved from a single slab of jade veined with diamonds, its surface shimmering under the eternal light.
The air smelled faintly of ozone and roses, and though EJ had walked these paths countless times, he still caught himself staring at the jade bridge every now and then, as if it might dissolve under his feet. It reminded him of how far he had come from the mortal streets he used to run across barefoot.
A sudden pressure on his shoulder pulled him from his reverie.
"Lost in thought again, Legacy?"
That teasing voice could belong to no one else.
He turned to find Yuma standing there, leaning lazily against one of the polished crystal pillars, his pink hair catching the light and shimmering faintly as though it had been dusted with gold. Yuma's armor still bore faint scorch marks and streaks of black from recent combat, though he wore them like accessories rather than stains.
"You've been summoned?" Yuma asked innocently enough, though his tone carried that familiar edge of mischief.
EJ allowed himself a faint smile. "Yes," he replied, though his eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Yuma closer. "You smell like battle."
Yuma raised a brow, clearly impressed. "Sharp as ever," he said with a grin, withdrawing his hand from EJ's shoulder. "You're right. Fuma and I had a little… practice match. He insists on keeping me on my toes."
EJ shook his head with a resigned sigh. "Yuma, how many times have I told you? You should still call him 'Your Majesty,' even in private. You're his right hand, not his equal."
That earned him a mock scowl from Yuma. "Oh, you're no fun. Whatever you say, Legacy."
"You're incurable," EJ muttered, already adjusting the gloves at his wrists as he began walking again.
Yuma fell into step beside him, his movements loose and graceful, the complete opposite of EJ's controlled precision. The other Legacies they passed on the jade bridge watched them openly, some with admiration, others with thinly veiled jealousy. EJ didn't pay them any mind. He never had.
"I have to check in with Captain Will first," EJ continued. "After that, I'll go to His Majesty."
"Another mission then?" Yuma asked, his golden eyes bright with curiosity.
"Most likely," EJ replied. He glanced at the palace rising before them at the end of the bridge, its diamond spires catching and fracturing the endless light. "It's been a long time since I was summoned directly like this."
Yuma clicked his tongue softly. "Oh, how mysterious. Maybe they've finally decided to send you somewhere exciting again. Don't get killed before I can beat you in training."
"I'll keep that in mind," EJ replied dryly, though he couldn't help the corner of his mouth twitching upward.
At the end of the jade bridge, the path split. To the left lay the Legacy Barracks and Captain Will's office — a towering wing of crystal and steel — while straight ahead, the Emperor's palace loomed, surrounded by its shimmering wards of golden light.
EJ stopped at the junction, glancing briefly at the palace gates. Even from here, he could feel the weight of its presence, a subtle pressure in the air that made the hair on his arms stand on end.
"I won't keep His Majesty waiting too long," EJ said.
Yuma gave him a lazy salute before sauntering off. "Don't make him wait at all. You know how impatient he gets when it comes to you."
EJ didn't answer, but he did feel the faintest chill crawl down his spine as he turned toward the barracks.
After delivering his report to Captain Will — a short exchange of battlefield updates, casualty counts, and minor mission debriefs — EJ made his way toward the palace, his boots clicking softly against the diamond-studded path.
The closer he drew to the palace gates, the quieter everything became. Even the whispers of the other Legacies faded away, as though the very walls commanded silence.
Two towering Celestial guards flanked the entrance, their armor glowing faintly as they stood motionless. One of them inclined his head slightly as EJ approached.
"Legacy Byun," the guard intoned. "His Majesty awaits you in the Upper Hall."
EJ bowed slightly and stepped through the gates.
Inside, the palace was a cathedral of light. Pillars of crystal rose around him, refracting rainbows into the air, while the polished floor reflected everything like a still lake. Tapestries depicting battles and the Seven Pillars of Creation hung between the columns, their threads shimmering with faint magic.
As he ascended the wide staircase, each step heavier than the last, EJ caught himself adjusting his gloves again. A nervous habit. He pushed it away and raised his chin.
By the time he reached the Upper Hall, the heavy golden doors were already open. A long carpet of jade and white stretched before him, and at the far end, sitting casually yet imperiously on the raised throne, was the Emperor, Fuma.
The man's presence was almost suffocating, his dark robes catching light like polished obsidian, his eyes bright with something unreadable. Yuma stood just off to the side behind the throne, arms folded, lips curled into his usual faint smirk.
EJ strode forward, each footstep echoing through the cavernous hall. When he reached the foot of the steps, he knelt on one knee, lowering his head.
"Legacy Byun Euijoo," Fuma's voice rang out, smooth and commanding. "Rise."
EJ obeyed, keeping his gaze level with the Emperor's, though every instinct screamed at him to look away.
"I hear you've been restless lately," Fuma said lightly, though his tone carried something sharper beneath the surface. "Let me remedy that. I have a task for you."
EJ's fingers curled at his sides, but his voice was steady when he replied.
"I am yours to command, Your Majesty."
"Take this feather and go to the Mortal World. Investigate what is happening."
The Emperor's command hung heavy in the air as a black feather – sleek, faintly sparkling – was pressed into EJ's palm. It was cool to the touch, but when his fingers closed around it, it seemed to pulse faintly with some dark, restless energy.
He bowed low, holding the feather carefully, then turned and left the throne room without another word.
By the time he returned to his quarters, his boots whispered across the diamond-tiled floor, and the jade bridge shimmered underfoot like water. The brightness of the Celestial realm felt muted now, as though the black feather in his cloak absorbed some of its light.
Inside his room, he began packing in silence, pulling open drawers, tightening the straps of his armor, wrapping rations in cloth.
"Will you be on a mission?"
The voice startled him, though it shouldn't have. Taki leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his silver hair catching the light.
"Yes," EJ replied plainly, never pausing his work. "Dark curses have been reported in the Mortal World. They say a large black phoenix has been seen circling a city called Garrand, spreading shadows wherever it passes."
He held up the black feather, watching how the faint light slid off it but never quite caught it.
Taki frowned. "Suddenly? I'd heard rumors, but I didn't think they were true."
"They're true," EJ confirmed, slipping the feather back into his pack. "The Underworld is moving again. They've been quiet for years, causing only minor disruptions. But this… this is different."
He opened the chest at the foot of his bed and lifted the sword that lay there , golden and sleek, its runes faintly aglow. The blade resonated faintly as he ran a gloved hand down its edge.
"Strange."
That was its name. One of the strongest swords ever forged in the Celestial Realm. Forged only for him, by a Celestial master-smith, its strength not just in its make but in how it resonated with his own power.
When they'd asked him what to name it, "Strange" was the first word that had come to mind, and it stuck.
Taki's eyes followed the blade with a hint of envy. Then, abruptly:
"Should I come with you?"
EJ shook his head, slipping Strange into its sheath and pulling his pack over his shoulder.
"This is my mission," he said simply. "And you have yours."
Taki made a clicking sound with his tongue and sat down on the edge of EJ's bed, leaning back on his hands.
"If you're going back to the Mortal World," he said finally, more serious now, "be careful. You haven't been there in a long time."
EJ paused at the door, fingers tightening around his sword.
"I know," he murmured.
The Mortal air was cooler, heavier.
EJ stood at the edge of the small city of Garrand as night fully settled, the faint stars drowned in the glow of distant lanterns. Shadows stretched long across the cobblestones and wooden rooftops, curling into every corner like quiet predators. The black feather, now tucked into his collar, pulsed faintly as though guiding him forward.
The streets were nearly empty at this hour. Those few townsfolk who still lingered outside hurried along with lowered heads, throwing him furtive glances. Some stared outright at the faint shimmer of Celestial light that clung stubbornly to him, giving him away.
He walked further into the square, his amber eyes scanning the surroundings. A few lanterns swayed in the breeze, and somewhere in the distance, a door slammed shut.
EJ stopped a passing merchant, a woman carrying baskets of herbs. "Is there a place here to stay the night?" he asked, voice low but even.
She blinked at him, clearly startled by the brightness of his gaze. "Ah—there's an inn two streets down, but…" She hesitated, glancing him over. "…they might not have room. Garrand's been… tense lately. Strangers don't always get much welcome."
EJ inclined his head. "Thank you."
The inn was exactly where she said, a squat stone building with a crooked sign that read The Lantern's Rest . But the keeper, a wiry man with tired eyes, only shook his head when EJ asked.
"All full. Been full for nights now," the man muttered, clearly eager to shut the door and be rid of him.
One after another, the few houses and inns he tried gave him the same answer — wary eyes, polite refusals, and doors closing quickly.
At last, as he stood again in the deserted square, an older mortal man finally approached him, his gait slow but steady. "You're one of them, aren't you?" the man asked, voice cautious but not unkind.
"Yes," EJ replied simply, amber eyes meeting his.
The man's own gaze flicked briefly to the faint shimmer of light around him before he nodded. "There's an empty cabin on the outskirts. It isn't much, but it's better than the streets. Safer, too. You can stay the night if you want."
EJ gave him a faint nod of thanks and followed his directions.
The cabin was small and plain, wooden walls weathered by time, and it smelled faintly of smoke and pine sap. The single room held little more than a narrow bed, a rickety chair, and a faded quilt that carried the dusty scent of lavender.
He set Strange — his golden sword — against the wall, its faint glow briefly illuminating the shadows before he let it rest. The silence here was heavier than in the Celestial Realm. It pressed down on him, and yet… it felt familiar, almost comforting.
He sat on the edge of the bed, then lay back without bothering to undress fully, staring up at the dark rafters above.
Sleep claimed him before he could fight it.
It came unbidden.
A sky blackened with smoke and fire.
Nicholas stood before him, ash gray eyes glinting faintly through the chaos, his cloak torn and streaked with blood. Behind him, the Underworld's armies clashed with the Legacies and Celestials, blades clanging and screams splitting the night.
"Go," Nicholas growled, his voice raw, sharp. "You have to go. Now."
But EJ stood frozen, gripping Strange so tightly his knuckles whitened. "No," he'd said hoarsely. "Not without you."
Nicholas stepped forward, seizing his hand and pressing something into it — he couldn't even remember what it was anymore, only the searing warmth of Nicholas's fingers wrapped around his own.
"You have to survive, EJ," Nicholas said more softly then, almost a plea. His ash gray eyes locked on his, full of something unspoken, something heavy. "Even if it means hating me for the rest of your life."
Before EJ could speak, Nicholas shoved him hard — and the light swallowed him whole as everything behind him was consumed in black.
EJ's eyes snapped open in the darkness of the cabin, his chest tight, breath uneven.
The black feather on the table glimmered faintly, its pulse steady and quiet, as though waiting.
He sat up slowly, pressing a hand to his face, fingers dragging over his eyes.
Even here, even now… the memory of Nicholas's hand lingered like a brand.