Over 200 years ago, the world changed in a single day. The people of that time had no idea how quickly their world would be torn apart. We call it the Cataclysm—the day the skies cracked open across the globe, and from the rifts above, winged beasts descended, bringing terror and destruction in their wake.
Yes, I'm talking about dragons.
Dragons of all shapes and sizes, each wielding the elements, razed entire cities, obliterating anything that dared to stand against them. Mankind's greatest weapons—bullets, tank shells, missiles—barely scratched their thick scales. Even mid-tier dragons shrugged off most of our strongest arsenals, and in mere months, the earth's militaries had crumbled, suffering catastrophic losses while the dragons remained nearly unscathed.
Only one weapon proved even remotely effective: the fusion bomb. For a brief moment, humanity clung to hope. Maybe—just maybe—we could fight back.
But then, they arrived.
The 5 celestial-Class Dragons, lead by Tiamat. Said to be the physical form of chaos in the universe
These monstrous beings were unlike any others, capable of annihilating entire armies in seconds. Even fusion bombs, humanity's last hope, barely left a mark. The world fell into chaos, its people scattered and hunted like prey.
Then, it happened.
The Ascension.
The gods—every deity from every culture and belief—chose to intervene. They had been at war with the dragons for millennia, bound by an oath not to interfere in mortal affairs. But as they watched humanity teeter on the brink of extinction, they could no longer stand idly by. They bestowed their blessings upon chosen individuals, granting them the power to fight back.
With the gods' aid, humanity rose from the ashes. We didn't just defend ourselves—we won. The war ended after ten brutal years, and in the years that followed, the dragons were completely eradicated.
Now, 200 years later, the world has been rebuilt. Seven great families Called the magistrate, descended from the legendary heroes who slew Tiamat —the celestial dragon of chaos and the strongest of all dragons—rule over their own nations As the blessings their ancestors received has been passed down through their families. The gods' blessings, once gifted to a chosen few, have been passed down through generations, shaping the very fabric of our society.
You'd think a world where people are blessed by the gods would be a paradise, wouldn't you? A world where those with power use it for the good of all?
Well… if that were the case, I wouldn't be telling you this story.
My name is Soren. I'm an only child, but my father raised my older cousins, Leona and Dante, alongside me. They're more like siblings than cousins. We're part of the Knox family—a name that carries both respect and ridicule. My father and I share the same blessing as our ancestors, which places us in the central line of the family. That's why my parents took in my cousins, raising them as part of that same legacy.
My father is relentless, pushing us harder than most because of our name. The Knox family's history is heavy, weighed down by a story that's been distorted by time. They say that nine people stood against Tiamat in the great battle, but only seven returned. My great-great-grandmother was part of that group—a healer. But according to the stories, she was killed in the battle. The truth of what happened was lost, known only to the survivors.
Because of that, my family is often seen as weak. We're ridiculed, looked down on, as if her sacrifice somehow diminished us. But that's just the beginning of my story.
The door flew open without warning, the sound echoing through the room.
"Soren!" Leona's voice rang out, sharp and impatient. "If you don't get up now, you'll miss the school trip!"
Soren groaned, rolling over and pulling the blanket tighter over his head.
"I'm not going," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow.
Before Leona could respond, a blur shot past her from the hallway. In a blink, a figure dashed into the room, slid under the bed, and with a swift kick, sent the mattress tilting.
"Wha—?!"
Soren barely had time to process what was happening before the bed flipped him into the air. A moment later, he came crashing down hard.
"Why didn't you tell me Kairi was here, Leona?!" Soren coughed, glaring up at his cousin. "I would've gotten up!"
Leona folded her arms, leaning casually against the doorway. "I was getting to that part… but you need to get up regardless of whether you want to see your friend or not."
Soren's eyes flicked across the room, where he spotted Kairi Shiranui, now sitting calmly on the other side of the room, her soft golden eyes twinkling with amusement. She gave him a cheeky smile and waved.
Soren's expression went blank.
"I don't want to see her," he muttered under his breath. "I'm just trying not to get harassed first thing in the morning."
"Oh, shut it." Kairi's playful voice cut through his grumbling. "You know you can't get enough of me."
Soren dragged himself up, brushing off imaginary dust, and without another word, he pushed Leona and Kairi out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind them.
"Finally… peace."
Thud.
A pencil bounced off the back of his head.
"Seriously?" Soren rubbed the spot where it hit, spinning around to find Kairi now sitting comfortably on the windowsill—his open window—grinning like she had all the time in the world.
"Why are you so difficult to get rid of?" Soren muttered, narrowing his eyes.
"I'll leave," Kairi said sweetly, her playful grin widening. "Once you're dressed and ready to go."
"Fine." Soren gave up with a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. "I'll meet you out front in ten."
Kairi's grin grew even brighter. "Deal." And with that, she leapt effortlessly out the window, disappearing from view.
Soren dressed quickly, tugging on his jacket before heading downstairs. As he passed by the living room, he tossed a quick "Later!" over his shoulder to his cousins.
Leona, sitting on the couch, shook her head in disapproval. "Unbelievable."
Dante, leaning back in the chair with his arms behind his head, smirked and threw up his chin.
"Have fun, kiddo."
Soren sighed. Fun? That was the last thing this day was going to be.
As Soren and Kairi walked to school together, the cool morning breeze brushing against them. Soren rubbed his shoulder, wincing slightly.
"You know," he muttered, casting a sideways glance at her, "you could try being a little more gentle with people."
Kairi flashed him a playful grin. "Where's the fun in that?" she quipped, smacking the same shoulder with a little more force than necessary.
Soren flinched, groaning as the pain flared up again. "Seriously?"
"Oh, stop being a baby," Kairi teased, rolling her eyes as she stepped closer. She placed her hand gently over his shoulder, and a soft, golden flame flickered to life in her palm. The warmth seeped into Soren's skin, and the pain melted away almost instantly.
Soren let out a relieved sigh. "You're getting good at that," he murmured, flexing his shoulder.
Kairi smirked, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You should be able to do this much yourself by now," she said, her tone shifting slightly. "What, haven't you been practicing?"
Soren looked away, avoiding her gaze. "I've been… busy," he mumbled.
Kairi raised an eyebrow, her expression making it clear she wasn't buying it. "Uh-huh. Sure."
Soren sighed, his voice low as he spoke. "My blessing isn't like yours," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the ground. "You can do some really cool shit with your flames. I wish I was born with the power to manipulate fire like you… or like my cousins. Or any element, for that matter." His tone grew bitter. "But instead, I'm stuck with controlling ether—and I can barely do anything with it."
Kairi's expression darkened. She stopped walking and turned to face him, her warm golden eyes narrowing and the warmth grew cold. "Don't say that," she snapped, her voice sharper than usual. "You have an incredibly rare ability—to control ether, the very energy that gives all of us our power. With enough practice, you could heal wounds, strengthen others, maybe even amplify someone's abilities." She looked away in frustration flickering in her gaze. "Stop pitying yourself, Soren."
Soren's jaw clenched. He looked away, his fists tightening at his sides. "That's easy for you to say," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're not the one who's going to be treated like a human battery…"
Kairi's expression softened for a moment, but Soren didn't see it. He kept his eyes locked on the ground, the weight of understanding how everyone else sees him pressing down on him.
Soren took a deep breath, letting the tension drain from his shoulders. His expression softened, but the weight in his eyes lingered.
"Let's just go," he murmured, his voice quieter now. Without waiting for a response, he turned and started walking.
Kairi followed, but this time she kept her distance. The playful energy between them had faded, replaced by an unspoken heaviness that neither of them addressed.
When they arrived at school, the scene ahead told Soren everything he needed to know. Teachers and trainers stood by the buses lined up in front of the school, calling out instructions and dividing the students into groups.
The field trip.
Soren's jaw clenched. He had almost forgotten. Field trips weren't about getting out of class or having fun for him. They were a reminder—another chance for the other students to treat him like an outsider. He could already feel the stares, the subtle whispers that would follow him the moment they boarded.
Kairi stepped closer, her usual playful expression replaced by quiet concern. But before she could say anything, Soren raised his hand, flashing her a quick peace sign without looking back.
"Don't worry about it," he said softly, his tone almost too casual.
Kairi stopped in her tracks, her gaze locked on him. She knew what he was doing—trying to spare her from the awkwardness, from the judgment that always seemed to follow him.
She watched in silence as Soren walked away, blending into the crowd of students heading toward the buses. He didn't turn back. He didn't have to.
Kairi understood what he was doing, even though she hated it… she let him go.
After being assigned his bus, Soren stepped aboard and began walking down the aisle, scanning for an empty seat. As he passed the other students, he felt their eyes on him—cold, unwelcoming. Some didn't bother hiding their disdain, placing their bags beside them to block the seats as if to silently say, "Not here."
Soren kept his expression neutral, swallowing the frustration building in his chest. Just find a seat. Don't make a scene.
But then, he saw him.
Zane Ashford.
Zane leaned back in his seat, a cocky grin spreading across his face as soon as he spotted Soren. His voice echoed through the bus, dripping with mockery.
"Look at this! Soren can't even find a seat." Zane's laugh was loud enough for everyone to hear. "Give a Knox a simple task, and they'll still find a way to screw it up!"
Laughter rippled through a few nearby students. Zane knew exactly how to play to the crowd.
Soren's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. He knew Zane was untouchable—his family was well-connected to the ruling family of this region, giving him the freedom to do whatever he pleased without consequence. But today… today, Soren had time.
Without saying a word, Soren walked straight toward Zane and dropped into the empty seat beside him. After tossing his bags out of it discarding it on the floor like trash
Zane's grin faded, replaced by irritation. His jaw clenched, and a faint crackle echoed through the air as yellow lightning began to dance around his arm, flickering like an unstable current ready to lash out.
"Not here. Not now"
Before the situation could escalate, a sharp voice cut through the tension.
"If you two keep bickering like five-year-olds," the trainer barked from the front of the bus, "you WILL be left behind. And Zane—" the trainer's gaze locked onto him, cold and unyielding, "—if you strike another student outside of combat training, you'll be punished according to the rules."
The electricity around Zane's arm fizzled out instantly. His lips curled into a smirk, but the look in his eyes was anything but amused.
"Of course, sir," Zane said smoothly, leaning back in his seat. But as the trainer turned away, his expression darkened. He muttered just loud enough for Soren to hear, "The only one who'll get punished is you… once my father hears about this."
Soren didn't respond. He kept his gaze forward, refusing to give Zane the satisfaction of a reaction.
The trainer turned back, eyeing the two of them before letting out a sigh. "Since all the other seats are full, it looks like you two will just have to figure it out."
The bus engine roared to life, drowning out whatever quiet threat Zane was preparing to make next.
The next hour felt like an eternity.
Soren sat rigidly in his seat, his body angled slightly away from Zane as if putting even an inch more distance between them might somehow make the ride less unbearable.
Zane, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease, lounging with his arms crossed and a smug grin plastered on his face. Every so often, Soren could feel Zane's gaze shift toward him, as if silently daring him to speak, to react—to give him something to work with.
But Soren didn't take the bait. He kept his eyes focused out the window, watching the landscape blur by, counting the minutes until they reached their destination.
Just get through this.
The steady hum of the bus engine and the occasional chatter of the other students filled the silence between them. But for Soren, the tension was suffocating.
And he knew… this was only the beginning.
As the buses pulled up to the destination, Soren stepped off, squinting as the glare of the sun hit his eyes. He blinked a few times before his gaze landed on the large sign in front of the building.
"Museum of Dragons."
His stomach twisted.
The field trip was meant to educate them on the war—the gruesome battles fought between humanity and the dragons that once ravaged the world. But for Soren, it was just another painful reminder of the weight he carried… the burden of his family's legacy.
I'd rather be anywhere else.
As he drifted into thought, a sharp, searing pain shot through his ears, snapping him back to reality. Soren winced, his hands flying to the earrings his father had given him—family heirlooms with red stones that now burned like molten metal against his skin.
The heat was unbearable.
Students nearby turned to stare as Soren's expression twisted in pain. His fingers clenched over the earrings, trying to dull the burning sensation. What the hell is happening?
Without thinking, Soren bolted toward the building, his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he rushed straight to the nearest bathroom.
Kairi noticed immediately. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Soren disappear inside, but then her attention shifted.
Zane.
A grin tugged at the corners of Zane Ashford's lips as he casually started moving in the same direction. The crowd of students was too focused on waiting for instructions to notice, but Kairi saw it all.
Not today.
Her playful demeanor slipped for a moment, replaced by sharp focus as she silently followed after Zane.
Soren reached the bathroom, his pulse pounding in his ears. He leaned against the sink, his reflection staring back at him with wide, confused eyes.
The red stones in his earrings glowed with an intense, fiery light—pulsing as if they were alive.
I've never seen them do this before…
Soren turned the faucet on, cupping his hands to splash cool water over his ears. As the water touched the stones, the glow faded almost instantly, and the heat disappeared.
What was that?
Before he could process what had just happened—
Bang!
The door swung open violently, and Soren spun around to see Zane Ashford standing in the doorway, his usual cocky smirk plastered across his face.
"Just walk away, Zane." Soren's voice was calm, but his stance was firm as he assessed the situation. "We can both try to get through today without any trouble."
Zane chuckled darkly, stepping inside and letting the door swing shut behind him. "Oh, I'm not walking away." His grin widened. "In fact…"
CRACKLE.
A surge of yellow lightning sparked to life around Zane's fist, the energy crackling dangerously as he clenched it tight. "I'm going to enjoy this."
Outside the bathroom…
Kairi stood just beyond the door, her body tense as she listened carefully.
Back inside…
Zane's punch came faster than Soren expected—an explosive burst of speed as his lightning-infused fist shot toward Soren's face.
Too fast.
But instinct took over.
Soren's hand moved on its own, his palm enveloped in a faint shimmer of ether. He caught Zane's wrist mid-swing, the energy absorbing the force of the strike.
In a single fluid motion, Soren shifted his weight, using Zane's momentum against him.
SLAM.
Zane's body was flung over Soren's shoulder, crashing to the cold tile floor with enough force to rattle the nearby sinks. The impact knocked the wind out of him, leaving him momentarily dazed.
Soren stood over him, his expression unreadable, but his eyes burned with a quiet intensity.
"The problem…" Soren said, his voice low and controlled, "…is that everyone mistakes my reluctance for weakness."
Zane's dazed eyes locked onto Soren's.
"Thanks to my father being a hard-ass," Soren continued, his tone growing sharper, "I'm more than capable of handling trash like you."
Zane didn't respond. He was too stunned to speak.
Soren exhaled slowly, his anger fading as he turned and walked toward the door.
Outside the bathroom…
Kairi sat on the floor by the door, her head tilted slightly as she waited. As Soren stepped out, she stood up, her usual grin already back in place.
Soren barely glanced at her as he walked past, but Kairi's expression shifted as she peeked inside the bathroom.
Zane.
He was still on the floor, struggling to get up. But when his eyes met Kairi's…
A chill ran down his spine.
Her warm, playful expression was gone. For a brief moment, her soft orange eyes turned ice-cold—filled with an eerie, almost murderous intent.
Predatory.
The look lasted less than a second before her usual bubbly demeanor returned. She flashed a bright, innocent smile and skipped after Soren, humming softly as if nothing had happened.
But Zane?
Zane felt that cold, unshakable fear linger long after she was gone.
Soren and Kairi rejoined the group just as the museum tour guide was finishing roll call.
"We were about to look for you two," the trainer from the bus said, eyeing them carefully. "Everything okay? Where's Zane?"
Before Soren could respond, Zane Ashford approached from behind, his usual confidence noticeably shaken.
"I'm here, sir," Zane said, forcing a grin. "Just had a… stomach thing. I'll tough it out." His voice wavered slightly, "are you okay?" The trainer asked noticing the discomfort in his face
he respond "yes" as his eyes darted to Kairi—who was giving him a chilling side-eye.
Her soft orange eyes, usually playful, had turned ice-cold again.
Soren noticed the way Zane's body stiffened, his earlier arrogance replaced by unease.
"Chill," Soren murmured quietly to Kairi.
As she shifted her look to him In an instant, her bright smile returned, her usual bubbly self on full display. "Hmm? What?" she asked, tilting her head innocently.
Zane wasn't fooled. His eyes avoided hers as he shifted uncomfortably.
"Alright, everyone!" the tour guide called out, clapping his hands. "Let's get started."
As the group shuffled forward, Soren let out a quiet sigh… "Finally."
"Let's see what kind of boring stuff they're going to try and make us care about." Kairi said, giving Soren a playful nudge.
Soren shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Yeah… let's just get this over with."
The next two hours dragged on as the tour guide led them through the exhibits, explaining the artifacts and remnants recovered from the war. Most of the students had already tuned him out—until his tone shifted.
"You're all in luck," the guide said, his voice brimming with pride. "This is the only museum in the world with a dragon core on display. And not just any core…" He paused for effect, his gaze sweeping across the students. "It's the core of the one and only Tiamat."
A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd, excitement and curiosity bubbling up.
"I thought dragon cores dissolved into pure ether when they died," a voice called out from the back.
The guide's eyebrows lifted, clearly impressed. He scanned the crowd until his eyes landed on the source—a young girl with snow-white hair and icy blue eyes.
"Excellent question," the guide said, gesturing for the class to follow. "Let me show you."
They followed him toward the back of the exhibit, where a glowing red orb the size of a child sat atop an ornate pedestal. A jagged crack ran through its center, pulsing faintly with a dim light.
"This," the guide began, his voice reverent, "is Tiamat's core, The mistress of chaos. We've been studying it for years, but even the greatest minds can't explain why it's still here. It should have dissolved like the others… but it hasn't. And despite countless efforts, we've never been able to damage it beyond the crack that formed during her final battle."
As the students stared in awe, the girl who had spoken earlier raised her hand again. "If the core is still here… and it's still emitting some sort of energy… doesn't that mean Tiamat isn't really dead?"
The guide was quick to respond, his tone reassuring. "No, no," he said, shaking his head. "Tiamat was slain that day. We believe that because she was likely the origin—or closely tied to the origin—of dragonkind, her existence followed a different set of rules."
He offered a practiced smile. "Rest assured, Tiamat was defeated by the brave heroes of the past. This core? It's nothing more than an oversized nightlight now."
As the students lined up to view the core one by one, whispers filled the room.
Kairi was ahead of Soren in line, passing by the core with an indifferent glance, her expression unimpressed.
Soren stood next, with Zane and his two friends—Ethan and Bryce—right behind him.
"Alright, just like we talked about," Zane murmured under his breath, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Ethan nodded subtly, exchanging a glance with Bryce.
They were setting him up.
Soren stepped forward.
The moment he got close, his earrings began to burn—an intense heat, sharper than before. The glow returned, pulsing violently.
What the—?
Then, he heard it.
A low, raspy voice echoed in his mind.
"Child… touched by gods, yet given no blessing…"
The pain in his ears spiked, and Soren froze, his heart pounding as the voice echoed in his mind.
But just as he tried to shake it off—
Zane gave a slight nod.
That was all it took.
Ethan moved first, pretending to stumble as he bumped into Bryce, who shoved Soren hard—just enough force to send him straight toward the core.
"Oops."
Soren's eyes widened in shock as he stumbled forward, arms flailing to stop himself.
His fingertips grabbed the core to catch himself—
And a blinding red flash accompanied by a jaw quenching ringing sound filled the room
The light was overwhelming, a pulse of raw, ancient power that swallowed everything. The force knocked several students back as a deafening silence followed.
When the light faded, all eyes turned toward the pedestal.
The core…
Was completely lifeless.
Its vibrant glow was gone, replaced by a dull, cold stone.
And beside it—
Soren's body lay motionless on the floor.