Chapter 13 — The Gathering of Fate
Creeeaaak…
The massive double doors swung open, their sound echoing through the vast chamber like a herald of destiny.
Inside, six figures stood waiting.
The first thing that struck Pash was how young most of them looked—youths around his own age, yet each radiating a strange, almost otherworldly aura. Their features were distinct, hinting at origins from across the world—different races, different nations, all gathered in this one silent room.
A man stood at the center, tall and sharp in posture, surrounded by two teenage males and three females. Their eyes turned toward Pash as he stepped in, his heart thudding with a mix of nerves and awe.
Whoa... they're all good-looking, Pash thought before catching himself. He had barely come to terms with his own transformation, and now this.
"Uh—hello," he greeted awkwardly, raising a hand in a half-wave.
The silence that followed made him wish he could disappear.
"Hi!" chirped one of the smaller girls in the room, breaking the tension.
She had ash-blond hair, tied neatly into twin ponytails, and her bright blue eyes carried a mischievous sparkle. She giggled lightly as she waved back, her youthful energy easing the air.
Before Pash could respond, a deep, commanding voice filled the room.
"Welcome, Pash. It's good to finally have you among us."
The man who spoke stepped forward. He was tall and composed, his presence alone enough to make the room fall silent. His neatly kept hair was streaked with silver, and his tailored dark suit fit him like armor. Every motion he made was deliberate, precise—like someone used to being obeyed.
He extended a hand. "Some people did a very good job hiding you," he added, glancing pointedly at Mr. Whitaker, who only replied with a sly smirk.
So they're not exactly friends, Pash thought, shaking the man's hand. He gives off serious CEO vibes… or a noble from an old movie.
The man straightened, smoothing the cuff of his sleeve. "Where are my manners," he said, voice steady and cultured. "Allow me to introduce everyone."
He gestured elegantly to each of the gathered figures.
"That is Hellea," he said, indicating the tall girl with oxblood-red hair cascading down her back. Her skin held a faint crimson hue, her eyes glimmering like rubies. Even standing still, she looked like a flame personified—beautiful but unapproachable. If not for her stoic expression, she could have passed for a goddess carved from fire.
"Over there is Aleron Windsor."
A refined young man with white hair and calm, ocean-blue eyes sat with his legs crossed, his posture regal and composed. He gave Pash a slight nod—polite, but detached.
"Next," the man continued, "Jung Yongwoo."
The boy beside Aleron grinned broadly, his light brown hair slightly tousled. "What's up, bro? You can just call me Woo," he said, waving energetically.
Pash smiled faintly and waved back.
"The one who greeted you earlier is Ukka," the man continued. The twin-tailed girl beamed at the mention of her name.
"And finally…" His tone shifted slightly, a warning beneath the calm. "…Pyra."
Pash turned to the last figure.
She leaned casually against a pillar, arms folded, her presence commanding in a different way. Her purple hair fell in waves around her shoulders, her violet eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. She smiled slowly, biting her lower lip as her gaze met Pash's.
Instead of being flattered, Pash felt a chill crawl down his spine. There was danger in that smile—wild and unpredictable.
The man turned back to him. "And I," he said, his tone taking on a subtle authority, "am Alistair Sinclair, Director of the Aurora Faction."
The name echoed in Pash's mind—refined, weighty, almost royal. Alistair's gaze was sharp yet calm, like someone who had seen the world unravel and still stood tall.
"As all of you are aware," Alistair began, his voice deep and resonant, "Earth is once again at war. This time, the Scryvians will not stop until they achieve their aim."
Aleron crossed his arms. "And what exactly is their aim?"
Alistair's expression darkened. "That… we do not yet know. They invaded without a word—no message, no declaration, no demand. Just destruction. Their behavior is beyond comprehension."
Ukka raised a hand timidly, like a student in class. "What if they just want to colonize us? Maybe Earth is just… prime real estate?"
A few chuckles rippled through the room, but Alistair remained stone-faced. "Whatever their plan may be," he said, "we will not take it lying down. That is why you are here."
Pash froze. Me? Why am I hearing this? I didn't sign up for saving the world!
"Most of you already know of the Prophecy," Alistair continued, pacing slowly before them. "Our Seer—Celine—spoke of your coming years before the invasion began. She saw the rise of six awakeners, each carrying a bloodline that ties directly to the origin of life itself."
Holographic projections shimmered to life behind him—images of the Scryvian ships, the Origin Source cube, and battles that looked like the end of days. The scenes flickered like memories caught in light.
Pash's heart pounded as his own image appeared—the moment he touched the cube. He clenched his fists unconsciously.
Woo frowned, his voice serious now. "Sir… shouldn't we be worried? The Scryvians came with the Origin Source. Every single ship carried one. It's like they knew we existed."
Alistair paused, then gave a slow nod. "You're right to be concerned. Their precision… their timing… it's as though they anticipated humanity's evolution before it even began."
"Then we're fighting blind," Woo said grimly.
"For now, yes," Alistair admitted, his tone softening with fatigue. "But knowledge will come. Until then, we must prepare."
He stopped pacing and turned to face them squarely. The holograms faded, leaving only the faint hum of the lights above. "I brought you all here to awaken your true potential—to prepare you to defend this world when no one else can. You are not just soldiers. You are humanity's last chance."
Silence filled the room.
"I understand how cruel this sounds," Alistair continued quietly. "To thrust children into a war they didn't start… But if we fail to sharpen our blades, there will be no one left to wield them."
He looked at each of them—his gaze steady, calculating, almost fatherly. "Your bloodlines are unique. Ancient. Each of you represents a spark of what humanity was meant to become. Together, you can reach heights no generation before you ever could."
Pash swallowed hard. His stomach twisted with both fear and something he didn't want to name—hope.
"So your training begins now," Alistair declared. "Most of you have already connected with the Grand Force. Pash…"
His gaze settled on him, firm but not unkind. "…you will need to catch up. Quickly."
Pash could almost hear the unspoken words behind that tone: You were hidden too long.
"You will all be transported to your training grounds immediately," Alistair said, activating a glowing interface on his wrist. Complex patterns of light danced across the surface like constellations.
"Wait—what? We're leaving now?" Pash blurted out.
Alistair gave him a faint, almost amused smile. "Did you think we would keep you in a safe haven? Growth never happens in comfort, my boy."
Woo groaned dramatically. "So much for a warm welcome."
Ukka giggled nervously. "Guess this is really happening."
Alistair nodded once. "I've already assigned instructors for each of you. They will guide you—but remember, the path ahead is yours alone to walk."
He turned to the towering window that overlooked Aurora City, the lights of its advanced towers flickering like stars below.
"Every era births its heroes," he said softly, almost to himself. "Now… it's your turn."
The room's lights dimmed as transport signals began to flare around their feet, glowing circles pulsing with energy. The air shimmered, vibrating with unseen power.
"Good luck," Alistair said, his voice echoing with quiet authority. "The fate of mankind rests in your hands."
In that instant, before the light engulfed them, Pash felt it—an invisible thread connecting them all.
Six strangers, one destiny.
The future of Earth would rise—or fall—with them.
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