Cyrus felt the air shift before he saw anything. A low, humming pressure pressed against his chest as he followed the narrow trail down the ridge. The island's breeze—normally warm and floral—carried a bite now, like a storm thinking about forming.
Ditto, perched on his shoulder in its tiny backpack-like sling, made a soft "brrrp?""Yeah, I feel it too," Cyrus muttered. "Like the island's holding its breath."
Below them, the path opened into a basin that looked absolutely wrong. Perfectly circular. Too smooth. Too silent. Like the land had been scooped out with a cosmic spoon and left behind as evidence.
But the worst part?The ground didn't look natural. The color shifted from the island's usual lush greens into stone slabs that weren't quite stone. They were thick plates of a dark mineral he didn't recognize—almost metallic, almost volcanic—but carved with long, purposeful grooves. As they stepped into the center, the grooves lit up in thin glowing lines, each one buzzing faintly.
"Okay," Cyrus whispered. "No one told me the island had a glowing basement."
Beyond the basin, something huge loomed—an enormous wall of rock, jagged and uneven, stretching as far as he could see. At first he assumed it was a cliff face, but the longer he stared, the more it looked… ripped. Torn. As if something had once been connected here, then violently pulled away.
Ditto squished into a defensive blob."Yeah, buddy. I think we're staring at an actual tectonic breakup."
He approached the torn wall, tracing his fingers over the rough stone. The texture changed the deeper his hand went—rough on the surface… smooth toward the center… and then cold. Unnaturally cold.
Something was carved into the stone. Shallow, weathered symbols—familiar ones.
Cyrus stepped back.
"Oh hell no. These are from our continent."
Not exact. Not modern. But proto-versions. Ancient precursors of the language he grew up reading—the same symbols his parents made him study during the mandatory "heritage literacy Saturdays," which he had hated with the passion of a thousand suns.
He recognized the central glyph instantly.
It wasn't a word—his family's crest.
Except it was older. And bigger. And carved into a wall on an island supposedly across the world.
"Okay, we're officially in the Twilight Zone," he whispered.
Ditto tapped the stone, then pointed at a smaller symbol beneath it—one Cyrus knew even better.It was the seal of the King Company.
"What…" Cyrus swallowed. "This place used to be part of our continent."
He didn't know how he knew. He just did. The energy in the air clicked with something deep in his gut, as if some ancestral instinct was waking up, stretching, and casually saying: Hey kid, your family's been lying for generations.
The glowing grooves in the floor pulsed brighter. Not threatening. More like a memory being triggered.
Cyrus stepped onto the central plate.
A tremor rolled under his feet—not violent, but dense, like something old shifting its weight.
Then a projection flickered to life.
Not a modern hologram. More like light bending itself into shape. A map materialized above the basin, suspended in the air. The continents looked familiar at first… then Cyrus realized what he was seeing.
It wasn't a map of the world now.It was a map of the world before.
Before the break.Before the separation.Before the island was ripped away like a loose tooth.
The island wasn't originally across the world.It wasn't originally its own landmass.
It had been part of the western edge of Cyrus's home continent—connected so tightly that rivers flowed across what was now ocean.
He stared up at it, heart hammering.
"How long has my family known about this?"
The projection zoomed in on the connection point—a narrow stretch of land labeled in faded ancient glyphs Cyrus could barely read.
He managed to piece together four words:
"Spine of the King."
Ditto whimpered softly."Yeah… I'm not loving what that implies either."
Then—because the island could sense dramatic timing—the ground beneath them gave a soft, seismic thump. Not dangerous. More like someone knocking politely.
Cyrus and Ditto spun around.
A thin crack had opened in the "torn" cliff wall.
Behind it… faint light.
And movement.
Cyrus swallowed. "Okay. I'm not saying this island just politely invited us in… but that's kinda what it feels like."
He approached the gap, feeling the warm glow on his face.
"Guess this is the part where we test me further, huh?"
He glanced down at Ditto.
"Alright partner. Let's go see what else my family's been hiding."
Together, they stepped into the opening.
And the island closed the stone behind them.