It began on a storm-laden night, when the winds howled like wolves and the heavens trembled with thunder. In the heart of the city stood Saint Seiya Hospital, an austere building of gray stone and glass whose long, sterile corridors carried with them an air of foreboding. Yet on that night, it was not the storm outside that would scar history—it was what happened within Room 666.
Inside, a woman lay in labor. She was strikingly beautiful, despite the sweat clinging to her pale skin. Long black hair spread across the hospital pillow, framing a face twisted between agony and determination. But what marked her most were her eyes: heterochromatic, one glowing crimson like fire, the other violet like a dying star.
Her name was Stella.
At her bedside stood a doctor and nurse, their hands steady though their hearts pounded with unease. They had helped bring many children into the world, but none under such unsettling circumstances. For even as the woman cried out, the room seemed to grow… darker.
At first, it was subtle—the fluorescent lights flickered once, then again, their hum lowering as if suffocated. The shadows lengthened unnaturally, gathering at the edges of the walls. The nurse tried to ignore it, focusing on the procedure, but when a coppery scent filled the air, her resolve broke.
"Doctor… the walls," she whispered.
He turned—and froze.
Blood. Thin streams of it seeped from the cracks in the white hospital walls, dripping downward, snaking along the floor. The trails crept slowly but deliberately toward the staff, as though guided by unseen will.
The doctor swallowed hard. "Keep working," he said, though his voice shook. "Focus on the child."
The nurse wanted to run, yet something in Stella's fierce, unyielding expression compelled her to stay. Stella pushed through one final wave of agony—and then, at last, the shrill cry of new life pierced the darkness.
As the infant wailed, the creeping blood suddenly stilled, congealing into nothing. The shadows receded, leaving only silence.
Stella exhaled, exhausted yet radiant. Tears filled her mismatched eyes as she cradled the newborn against her chest. With a trembling smile, she whispered:
"Nexor Morthan."
The doctor's relief was short-lived. His brow furrowed, unease gnawing at him. He could no longer stay silent.
"Stella," he said carefully, "are you sure about this? You were… violated. By him. That mad scientist. And this child—he carries his blood. Did you not see what just happened? The darkness, the blood in the walls—this is not normal."
But Stella's eyes hardened, her resolve unshakable even in her weakened state.
"Even if he forced himself on me… this is still my child," she said firmly. "I don't care how he was conceived. Nexor is mine. That is final."
The doctor—Daniel, a man with weary blue eyes and lines of regret across his face—hesitated. He had known Stella since childhood. They had walked to school together, shared laughter and secrets. He cared for her more than he ever admitted. And yet, he had failed her when she needed him most.
"…Fine," Daniel whispered. "But call me if you need anything. I'm sorry, Stella… sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me."
She smiled faintly, exhaustion softening her features.
"It's alright, Daniel. What I need now is rest."
With a heavy heart, Daniel turned and closed the door quietly behind him, leaving Stella alone with her child—her only reason to keep living.
Five years later.
The mansion was vast, two stories of elegance surrounded by a flourishing garden, fountains, and trees that whispered in the wind. Within its heart, joy resounded.
"Mommy, who is my father?"
The question, innocent yet sharp, came from a boy with unruly black hair and curious eyes. Nexor.
Stella paused. For a moment, her crimson and violet eyes glimmered with a sadness she quickly concealed. She knelt beside her son, brushing the hair from his face.
"You'll know one day, my love," she said gently. "But for now… let's play hide and seek."
Nexor's laughter rang out as he dashed behind a tree. Stella counted aloud, a mischievous smile on her lips.
"One… two… three…"
When she finally found him, she leapt from behind and wrapped him in a sudden embrace.
"Got you, my little Nex-chan."
"Mom! You scared me!" he laughed, though the sparkle in his eyes betrayed his joy.
For a time, their world was warm. But peace is a fragile thing.
Ten more years slipped away.
Now fifteen, Nexor had grown into a brilliant youth. In a private laboratory hidden within the mansion, he worked feverishly while thunder rolled outside. Sparks danced across his machine, a construct of his own genius—something that could pierce the veil of reality itself.
At last, his work was complete. His hands trembled as he reached for the switch.
"It's done. At last… it's done."
But fate intervened. A thunderbolt, violet as his mother's eye, crashed through the heavens and struck the device.
The machine roared to life, screaming as gears spun and metal warped. And then—
Reality tore open.
A rift yawned wide, revealing an abyss of endless black. From within came whispers, insidious and maddening, clawing at Nexor's mind. The machine buckled, then exploded, hurling him forward into the Void.
As the darkness swallowed him, one thought burned in his heart:
"I'm sorry, Mother."
The rift sealed behind him. Only his shattered phone remained, the last trace of his existence.
Miles away, Stella collapsed in her mansion. Pain seared through her skull as she clutched her head, screaming her son's name.
"NEXOR!"
Then, silence. Slowly, she rose. Her mismatched eyes glowed with otherworldly power.
"…So. He has awakened."
Her voice was different now—older, richer, eternal. She smiled bitterly.
"This mortal life was… amusing. To live without my memories, without my power. To raise a child." She paused, lips curling faintly. "But now… playtime is over."
A portal shimmered open beside her, and through it stepped a figure of pure white, radiant and flawless. His presence exuded authority, unyielding and absolute.
"Stella… or should I call you by your true name: Chaos," he said. "Your son has torn open a wound in reality. The world trembles on the edge of collapse. You will help me mend it."
Chaos laughed softly.
"Order… always so grave. It was a mere accident."
"Accident or not, it nearly destroyed everything," Order thundered. "You will act."
With a sigh, Chaos lifted her hand. The trembling of the universe stilled; the collapse reversed.
"There. Satisfied?" she teased.
Order crossed his arms. "Tell me, Chaos. How was it? Your little… vacation? To live as a mortal. To bear a child."
For a moment, Chaos was silent. Then she smiled, wistful.
"It was… beautiful. More than I expected. But I did not foresee Nexor awakening so soon. And with such force…"
"Expected," Order said flatly. "He is your son. He holds not only your Chaos, but his own gift—the World Power. That makes him a target. Hide him, before others find him."
Chaos's eyes glowed, sharp with resolve.
"He is mine. He carries my Chaos… and his own power besides. I will prepare him."
Order's gaze softened—slightly. "Then send him a message. Quickly."
With a wave of her hand, Chaos conjured a letter bound with her essence. As Order disappeared into his portal, she whispered:
"Grow strong, my son."
In the endless Void, Nexor floated, disoriented and alone. The whispers clawed at his sanity—yet amid the darkness, a faint glow appeared.
A letter. Bearing his name.
He opened it, hands trembling.
The Letter
"My dearest son, Nexor,
By now you must feel the weight of the emptiness around you. Do not fear it. This is the Void, and though it devours all things, it will not devour you—for it has recognized you as its child.
I am Stella, yes… but that name was only a mask. My true name is Chaos, the beginning and the end, the formless storm from which creation itself was born. You are my son. You are not a mistake. You are not the shadow of a monster. You are the heir to eternity.
When you were born, the room grew dark and blood seeped from the walls. That was not a curse, but a sign: the universe recognized you. Even then, the fabric of reality shivered at your arrival.
From me, you inherited the Power of Chaos—boundless, unshaped, infinite. It can create and destroy, heal and corrupt, bind and unmake. Chaos is possibility itself.
But within you awakened another power, one that belongs only to you: the World Power. It is the breath of creation—the ability to bring forth entire worlds, or to erase them utterly. Do not underestimate this gift, Nexor. Others will kill, deceive, and enslave to seize such a power.
Yet remember this: though your blood is half-mortal, that does not weaken you. Mortality grants you what gods and beings like myself cannot touch—infinite growth. Infinite potential. Even I, who shaped stars, cannot reach beyond my nature. But you, my son, can transcend it.
For now, you have no body. Only your soul remains, drifting here in the Void. Yet this is not the end. The Void will carry you onward, to a new world. The first of many.
You have always dreamed of adventure, of stepping into stories beyond your own. That dream is no longer fantasy—it is destiny. Your journey begins in the age of dragons, in a world where magic reigns supreme. There, you will awaken not as a boy, but as what you are most attuned to: a dragon. You shall be known as the World Void Dragon.
I cannot meet you yet. Not until you are strong enough. But know this, Nexor: wherever you walk, my eyes will follow. You are my pride, my son, my legacy. You are both mortal and eternal, flesh and infinity.
Survive. Grow. And when the time comes… stand tall before gods and monsters alike. For you are more than either. You are Nexor Morthan—the child of Chaos.
And your story has only just begun."
The letter dissolved into radiant starlight, scattering across the Void. Nexor clenched his fists, heart pounding, eyes burning with newfound purpose.
The whispers no longer frightened him. They bowed. They hushed.
The Void itself seemed to wait, as if holding its breath.
And Nexor drifted forward into his fate.
The journey of the World Void Dragon had begun