The sun blazed high above the sky, its light shimmering across drifting clouds, tinting them a faint ethereal blue. Even with the warm sunlight spreading across the open fields, a cool breeze wandered lazily through the air.
Birds cut graceful arcs overhead while endless rows of towering sunflowers swayed like golden soldiers saluting the wind. Butterflies perched atop the blooms, wings trembling as if humming to the world.
Somewhere between that beauty, on a patch of fresh green grass warmed by sunlight, sat two children—
Karan and Ayra.
Ayra, only fifteen, her silver-white hair catching the glow of the sun, held eight-year-old Karan in her lap. His cheek was swollen on one side, as if someone had struck him recently.
"Ayra… what does it mean to be a hero?" Karan's voice trembled, the words stumbling as though afraid to be spoken.
The question froze Ayra. For a heartbeat, she simply looked at him—really looked—and then gently cupped his hurt cheek, her thumb brushing the swollen skin with a tenderness that made the world seem quieter.
"Hero… hmm," she murmured, thinking. "Papa says a hero is someone who protects people. Someone who protects humanity."
Karan's small fingers curled into fists. His gaze sank toward the ground, and when he spoke again, his voice cracked like thin ice.
"B-but… are people even worth saving?" His eyes brimmed instantly, tears spilling over and dropping into the soft grass. "Hic… everyone beats me. I have no friends because I don't have any powers. Hic… sob…"
Ayra stood abruptly. Before Karan could understand what was happening, she scooped him up into her arms. Her lips pressed lightly against his forehead, a kiss that felt like warmth made physical.
"Little brother," she whispered, lifting his face toward the brilliant sun. "No matter how many chances people give you to become someone cruel… you must stay pure. Like this sunlight. Become someone who brings happiness to others."
Karan's cheeks flushed red. In that moment, framed by sunlight, Ayra looked like a goddess to him—untouchable, radiant, everything he wished he could be.
"Promise me, my crybaby brother," she said, her smile soft and bright. "You'll become a great hero."
She spun him gently in the air, her laughter blending with his. For a moment, the world was perfect—just joy, wind, and sunshine.
"To be a hero," she continued, "you don't need a unique power. You need a strong will."
Ring! Ring! Ring!
The scene shattered.
A small room came into view, air-conditioner humming softly, its cool air chilling the air. Karan's eyes blinked open. He stretched, groaning.
"Uhhh… what time is it?"
He grabbed his phone, unlocking it.
"Wh… what? 9:30? I'M DEAD." His fingers flew across notifications. "Damn it!"
[Message:]
All pickers arrive at Yamuna River by 9:00 AM. A giant monster has been slain.
[Pickers: The lowest rank. Their work begins after the battles—the cleaning, the collecting.]
Karan jumped off the bed, pulling clothes on in a frenzy. He snatched the pendant lying on his pillow—inside it, a picture of Ayra—and looped it around his neck.
"Good morning, sister…"
He paused. "Good morning, Mom… Dad… sister."
"Hey! You careless boy! At least eat something!" his mother, Seema, yelled from the kitchen.
"Mom, no time! I'm already late!"
"Priya! follow him fast!".
Priya, Karan's older sister, sprinted toward him holding a small bowl.
"Hey! Idiot, stop! I can't run—stop!"
Huffing, she finally cornered him and pushed the spoon to his lips.
"Eat this before you go. It's good luck."
"Ugh… all superstition. You sound just like mom."
Priya didn't care—she force-fed him the sweet curd with unwavering authority.
Then her voice softened. "Karan… you don't have to do this. We'll manage. Just focus on your studies."
He laughed breathlessly. "You know I hate studying. And I like this job. Besides… we need to pay Dad's hospital bills."
His fingers brushed the pendant. "And I have a promise to keep. I'll save people… just like Ayra wanted."
Priya's lips trembled, her eyes shining as though tears lurked dangerously close. But she forced herself steady.
"Be safe… otherwise Ayra will be angry at us from heaven."
"Oh God—I'm so late! Bye!"
He bolted out the door.
Priya watched him run down the street, a sigh escaping her.
Softly, like a prayer carried by the wind, she murmured:
"Ayra…"
____
Yamuna River — Later
Police cars, ambulances, and fire brigades lined the road near the river. Sirens flashed red and blue against the shimmering water. The air smelled of smoke, blood, and raw monster energy.
On the riverbank lay a colossal corpse—fifteen feet of black muscle streaked with white stripes. A fallen beast.
"Hey, you useless shit! What took you so long? Come here!"
A senior worker yelled from across the chaos.
Karan forced a smile, jaw tight. "Oh—coming."
Around him, pickers carved the monster's flesh, their blades slicing through sinew as they worked to extract the luminous jewel nestled deep within.
[Jewel: A gemstone that contains a monster's life force.]
"Everyone, attention!" the pickers' leader barked.
"The heroes have something to say."
A murmur rippled through the group.
"Huh… it's Webroo," a worker whispered.
The hero Webroo stepped forward, scanning the crowd with practiced authority.
"Our guild received a mission," he announced. "We need one strong and young picker to accompany us."
All eyes shifted—inevitably—toward Karan. Among the twenty workers, he was the youngest. Barely twenty.
"You," Webroo said, pointing. "Come with us."
For a heartbeat, Karan forgot to breathe. His blood surged. Fire lit his eyes.
"Oh… okay."
His dream trembled close enough to touch.
Little boy…
The world blurred.
A voice—ancient, echoing, divine—reverberated inside his skull.
"You want power, little boy? Find me."
Karan stiffened, glancing around.
Ugh… who's there?
The voice pulsed again—this time closer, deeper, as if rising from inside his very bones.
"Don't be afraid. You and I… we are the same. Come find me. I am waiting."
Karan's heartbeat thundered.
Something had awakened.
Something old.
Something that knew his name.