"That was a long time ago."
The voice cuts through the memory like a blade across glass. The past dissolves ...Starling's dim-lit room, the glow of the news, the quiet laughter with Riven all fade into smoke. What remains is the voice.
Dawn's voice.
"You probably think you get it now, right? Boy with wings. Best friend with skin that catches the light. Boo-hoo, the world's cruel. But that's only half the joke and it's not even the funny half."
A low chuckle, sharp as gravel.
"Let me catch you up. The world of Humarites isn't simple. It's not just feathers and shiny skin. It's blood. Always blood."
The Bloodline Tiers
Dawn's words paint the image as if lecturing, mocking and amused all at once:
X-Bloodline: "The rarest, the ones whose Null abilities burn like suns. Born killers, born saviors, depending on which end of the blade you're standing. Pure Xs are already dangerous."
T-Bloodline: "Bottom of the barrel. Fragile, dim sparks. They might manifest a Null, but it's weak, often useless, sometimes laughable. People pity them. Or use them."
XT-Bloodline: His laugh here is dry. "The monsters. The potential that makes even Vail's generals piss their boots. The fusion of X and T , the instability makes them terrifying. Unpredictable. Strongest, if they live long enough."
Y-Bloodline: He pauses, voice dropping. "The wildcard. They don't fit the system. Not common. Not safe. The kind the government files under 'classified' and 'contain immediately.'"
"Which am I? Oh, you'll see. You'll know when it hurts."
The Null Abilities
He shifts gears abruptly, like pulling us by the collar:
"Nulls aren't just powers. They're reflections. Some bleed fire, some bend gravity, some rip thoughts from skulls. Some can only light a match in the dark. They come in varieties, some tied to the blood, some random. But here's the funny bit , a Null isn't just what you can do, it's what you are. Fragile humans don't get it. They think Nulls are tools. Weapons. They never see that Nulls are prisons. Imagine waking up one day and realizing your soul is branded by the stars. That's the punchline, my friend. That's the cruel humor."
The Mutation
The world itself flickers into his words.
"How did it start? Easy. The Andromeda galaxy kissed the Milky Way. A cosmic crash, radiation spilling like spilled wine across the night. Half the world bathed in it, half remained 'pure.' That 50%? they became us. Humarites. A coin flip of fate, except the house always wins."
We see images through his narration: cities crumbling under riots, hospitals overrun with mutated newborns, governments scrambling to redefine "human."
"Fifty percent. That's not a minority. That's half the damn species. But humans? Fragile, scared little things. They cling to numbers, to purity. They call us aberrations, monsters, accidents of starlight. They can't see that their world ended the moment the galaxies touched. The Vail government knows it. That's why they choke us with their laws, their oversight, their cages. Corruption isn't an accident. It's a religion."
The Mockery of Humanity
His voice sneers.
"Humans… fragile-minded idiots. They build their walls, their militias, their speeches. They want control so badly they forget they've already lost it. The world changed, and they're still clinging to dust. Fragile hearts. Fragile egos. Fragile gods."
Then the tone shifts — softens, unexpectedly.
"But I wasn't alone. Not then."
The Bond
The smoke clears into memory again. Starling and Riven, younger, side by side. Wings brushing against a shimmering arm. Two boys against the weight of a hostile world.
"Riven and I .... we weren't just friends. We were brothers carved from the same storm. We dreamed together, laughed together, bled together. He was my mirror when I couldn't stand my own reflection. He believed in me before I knew what believing meant. And I…"
For a moment, the words hesitate. Dawn's voice almost cracks. Almost.
"I needed him more than he ever knew."
The silence stretches.
Then he slams it shut.
"But enough of the sob story. You want fun? Chaos? The blood and smoke? Fine. Let's fast-forward. Two years later."
The Skip
The memory warps, stretches time rushing forward. The boys are older now. Starling's wings larger, sharper, more defined. Riven taller, his Humarite shimmer more pronounced. Their laughter is lower, heavier with the weight of age. The world hasn't gotten kinder. If anything, the knives are sharper.
And now they are in high school.
Not children anymore. Not yet men. Standing at the edge of everything.
Dawn's laugh cuts through the scene as the curtain rises on this new act.
"This is where the fun begins."