The wind in Gryndale never behaved like normal wind.
It didn't just pass… it listened.
It curled around corners like it had purpose, like it carried messages between unseen things — old forces that humans in the city didn't fully understand. Some people pretended none of that existed. Others worshiped it.
Seko?
He just lived in it.
He didn't have the luxury of believing or doubting anything. All he had was survival.
He woke up that morning the same way he always did — bones slightly aching from the cold, stomach half-empty, mind half-determined. He lived alone in a room so tiny it felt like a storage closet more than an actual home.
The walls were cracked, the light bulb flickered like it wanted to die but couldn't. And from his window he could see the far horizon — the famous Apex Spire, the main tower of the Apex Wardens. The place where the elite stood, revered like living gods.
He always stared at it.
He stared at it every single morning before anything else, like looking at that tower was the only thing that reminded him he existed for something more than poverty.
Other people stared at celebrities on TV screens.
Seko stared at the impossible.
He was weak — at least physically. His frame wasn't huge. He wasn't muscular. He wasn't the "chosen one" type. If anything, life made sure he always understood one lesson clearly:
Gryndale didn't give out success.
Gryndale tested you.
Some people were born in families with influence.
Some were born already training to join elite corps.
Some had mentors, connections, advantages.
Seko?
He had nothing but hunger — the type of hunger no food could satisfy.
The desire to rise.
To break out.
To reach the level where people would bow in respect instead of ignoring him in the marketplace.
The level of the Apex Wardens.
And yet, even though he wanted it — he didn't know where he stood. He didn't know if this was madness or if purpose was using him like a rope.
He stood and breathed in.
Today — he told himself — was the day he would step out of his tiny invisible life and into something unknown. Not because he was ready — but because he'd remain poor forever if he didn't.
He put on his black hoodie — the one he always wore — and tied the worn cord around it. The hoodie had been washed so many times it lost its original color.
He had no weapon. No plan. No backup.
But he had curiosity.
And unfortunately for the world — curiosity is enough to start wars.
When he stepped outside, the city felt different from normal. People walked fast. Faster than usual. Gryndale had this energy to it — like the city breathed with moods.
Some days it felt lazy.
Some days it felt violent.
Some days you could swear the buildings leaned closer like they were listening.
Today was one of those listening days.
Seko walked towards the lower district — toward the marketplace. Even though he had no money, the marketplace was where information happened. And information was the only currency a poor boy owned.
The lower district was always busy — filled with cheap vendors, strange potion sellers, fake talisman peddlers, kids playing games, gamblers rolling weird dice, and the type of people who were always one decision away from committing a crime.
And that's where Seko saw him.
A boy around his age — short brown hair, one silver ring on his finger — leaning against a pillar and flipping a coin like he wanted someone to approach him.
He looked like he was waiting for something.
Their eyes matched for a second and Seko almost looked away — but that moment was enough. The boy smirked.
"You look like you actually see things," the boy said.
Seko blinked.
"…What do you mean?"
"Most people here are blind," the boy replied, flipping the coin again. "They live ordinary because they think ordinary is the only thing that exists."
Seko didn't answer — because it was true.
The boy stepped closer, offering his hand casually like they'd met before.
"Name's Kalo," he said. "You don't look like the type that belongs here."
"And what type do I look like?" Seko asked.
"Like someone trying to leave," Kalo replied simply.
Seko hesitated — then he shook his hand. His hand was cold — like someone who touched winter regularly.
"You're right," Seko said quietly. "I want to join the Apex Wardens one day."
Kalo stopped smiling.
Just like that — the entire atmosphere shifted.
The marketplace sounds faded — like something narrowed focus.
"You're either insane," Kalo said slowly, "or… you're meant for something bigger."
This was the first time someone didn't laugh.
No mockery.
No disbelief.
No "dream smaller" type reaction.
Seko felt something unfamiliar — respect.
"How do you plan to reach that level?" Kalo continued.
Seko looked up at the Apex Spire in the distance.
"I don't know yet," he admitted. "Maybe I'll die trying."
Kalo raised an eyebrow.
"You think climbing the world is done by luck?"
Seko stayed silent.
Kalo leaned forward slightly.
"Power begins with knowing what lies behind the Veil."
Seko frowned. "The Veil?"
Kalo smiled.
"You've seen strange things before — haven't you?"
Seko's heartbeat paused.
Yes.
He had.
He didn't talk about those moments with anyone — because it felt like sharing a secret that didn't belong to the human world. But sometimes — when he had nightmares — the real world blurred, and he'd see symbols in the air — symbols floating like faint smoke.
He never told anyone about that.
"How did you know?" Seko whispered.
Kalo only tapped his coin.
"Because people who look at the Apex Spire — are the same people who see… beyond the origin."
That phrase hit Seko like a trigger.
Beyond the origin.
What exactly did that mean?
Before Seko could ask — a sudden scream cut through the market.
Everyone froze.
Then chaos erupted — people scattered — running away from the center aisle.
Seko and Kalo rushed toward the noise — not away from it — because when you grow up in poverty, fear is a luxury. Danger is normal.
At the center of the chaos —
— a man stood, shaking like his bones were melting from inside.
Dark smoke crawled up his arms — like his veins were leaking shadow.
People screamed "CURSED!"
"dark hex!"
and everyone backed away — terrified.
Seko didn't run.
He stared.
Because he recognized the pattern swirling around the man.
Those were the same symbols he had seen in his nightmares.
It was the same language.
Kalo noticed Seko's reaction — and his eyes widened slightly.
"You can see the glyphs?" Kalo asked in shock.
Seko swallowed hard.
"Yes."
Then — without warning — the man with the shadow veins snapped his head upward and his eyes turned pitch black.
Like an ink ocean.
He roared — but it wasn't a human voice.
It sounded like multiple voices layered inside one throat — like something bigger was speaking through him.
People fell to the ground covering their ears — some fainted instantly.
Seko's heartbeat slammed through his chest — but he didn't move.
Instead — something inside him twisted — like his brain had felt this sound before — like a déjà vu he didn't ask for.
Kalo grabbed his sleeve tightly.
"Seko!" he shouted. "Look at his forehead! What do you see?"
Seko focused — and there it was — a glowing symbol shaped like intersecting triangles — pulsing like a heartbeat.
"I know that symbol," Seko whispered. "I've seen it in my sleep."
Kalo stared at him like he was staring at a miracle.
"That… symbol," Kalo said, voice serious, "belongs to those who have crossed into the Veil."
Seko didn't understand how this cursed man had anything to do with him — but the moment that symbol pulsed — something else happened.
The smoke in the man's veins suddenly burst outward — exploding like a dark rip — and from inside the smoke — long shadow tendrils emerged, slithering across the floor like living worms.
People screamed and tripped over themselves.
One of the tendrils lashed toward Seko — fast.
Kalo tried to pull him away — but the tendril reached them.
And then…
everything froze.
The tendril stopped inches before touching Seko — like it hit an invisible barrier.
The shadow twisted — forming symbols in midair — THE SAME SYMBOLS FROM HIS NIGHTMARES.
Seko's eyes widened — because suddenly every symbol made sense — not logically — but instinctively — like his blood already knew the meaning.
And then something inside Seko whispered to him.
Not physically.
Not verbally.
But mentally.
Like an old memory waking up.
You have been marked since birth.
Seko's body shook.
Marked…?
for what?
The tendril then suddenly retreated — like it recognized him — like it bowed to him — and returned back into the cursed man's body.
The man collapsed instantly — unconscious — the smoke fading.
Silence fell.
People stared at Seko — fear and confusion mixed.
Kalo turned to him slowly.
"You just survived direct contact with Veil-touched energy," he said. "No normal human can do that."
Seko realized his hands were shaking.
"What… am I?" he whispered.
Kalo stared into him — eyes dark.
"You're not meant to be ordinary," he said. "And you don't just want the Apex Warden rank — the Apex Wardens want you."
Seko didn't have words.
Then Kalo leaned closer — voice low.
"And one more thing — your nightmares… are not dreams."
Seko felt the world tilt — like the ground under him was glass.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
Kalo took a slow breath.
"The Veil doesn't give visions. It gives warnings."
Later that same evening, Seko sat alone by the old canal — questioning everything. The water below him glowed faintly — like Gryndale's rivers carried starlight instead of ordinary reflections.
Kalo had left — but before leaving he'd said:
"Meet me tomorrow, same place. I know someone who wants to see you."
Someone?
Who?
Why would anyone want to see someone like him?
He thought about the cursed man — the symbols — the way the tendril paused — almost like it recognized him.
And then, out of nowhere, he heard footsteps behind him.
At first he assumed it was just someone walking — but they stopped too close — right behind him.
Seko turned — ready to defend himself — but what he saw wasn't a street person.
It was a girl — around his age — wearing a dark navy coat with strange silver patterns on the sleeves. Her eyes were pale green — but there was something unnatural inside them — like they could see through him.
"You saw the sigils," she said — not asking — stating.
Seko froze.
"Who are you?" he asked.
She ignored the question.
"You don't understand the danger you are in," she continued. "The Veil doesn't reveal itself for no reason. You must avoid the capital quadrant."
Seko frowned.
"What's in the capital quadrant?"
"The Apex Wardens," she answered.
Seko's chest tightened.
"They're the people I want to join," he said sharply.
The girl stepped closer — her voice suddenly full of weight.
"And I'm telling you — if they find out you can read Veil sigils… they won't recruit you."
Seko swallowed.
His voice dropped barely above a whisper.
"Then what will they do to me?"
She didn't answer immediately — but the silence was answer enough.
Finally she whispered — like she regretted even saying it:
"They will eliminate you before the Veil chooses you first."
Seko's blood ran cold.
Before he could say anything — she suddenly turned and vanished into the shadows.
Not ran — not walked — vanished.
Like she wasn't human.
Seko stood frozen on the canal bridge — the world spinning.
Because in a single day — everything he believed about his origin, his future, his dreams… had flipped entirely.
He always thought the Apex Wardens were the ultimate dream.
But now he realized something terrifying:
They might be his greatest threat.
And maybe — just maybe — he wasn't just a poor kid trying to reach greatness…
maybe he was never meant to be humanly normal at all.
Maybe — Seko himself — was part of the Veil.