The night was darker than usual — the kind of darkness that seemed ancient, as if the mountains themselves carried secrets from forgotten worlds. The moon hid behind heavy clouds, and a cold wind swept through the ridges as Hange rode his motorcycle up a narrow mountain road.
His headlight sliced through the fog like a thin blade of light, revealing only moments of the world before being swallowed again by the mist. Every sound — the hum of the engine, the scrape of gravel — felt too loud in the deep silence.
Hange slowed down, uneasy. The air around him felt heavy, almost alive. He couldn't explain it, but something about that night felt wrong.
He stopped his bike near a sharp turn where the fog thickened into a swirling wall. The silence pressed against his ears. Then — a flicker of light caught his eye.
Between the stones, near a dead, twisted tree, something was glowing.
A small yellow stone, pulsing softly like a beating heart.
It was faint at first, but the glow spread, painting the fog in shades of gold. It was strange — too beautiful, too unreal — as if the light belonged in a dream, not the real world.
Hange's heartbeat quickened. "What is this…?" he whispered, stepping closer.
He reached out — and the moment his fingers touched it, the stone clung to his palm like it had been waiting for him.
Pain exploded through his arm.
The glow grew stronger, veins lighting up beneath his skin like rivers of fire.
He screamed, dropping to his knees, trying to pull it off, but it wouldn't move. The pain spread up to his shoulder, blinding and hot. Then — everything went dark.
---
When he opened his eyes, he was lying on the ground, breathing hard. The world was quiet again. His palm still glowed faintly where the stone had touched him.
Next to him lay a book — black, old, covered in dust and strange carvings.
He reached for it. The letters shimmered faintly across the cover:
"The Book of Spirit."
The pages were filled with drawings of strange symbols, half-human creatures, and descriptions of places that couldn't exist — cursed worlds, endless voids, and something called "The Domain of Yardcost."
That name froze him.
He had seen it before.
In his dreams.
The same dark house surrounded by mist and whispering shadows. The same voice that had called his name in sleep.
The stone in his hand began to hum softly, yellow light swirling around his arm again. Lines and markings appeared on his skin — ancient symbols that felt like they were alive. The stone's energy focused into a single image — a path, hidden deep within the mountains.
> Power Level: C raw — Upgradable stone.
Strength evolves with fate.
Hange stared into the glow, heart pounding. His reflection in the light didn't look like him anymore. His once-blue eyes now burned gold, bright and sharp like lightning. He felt power — real, dangerous power — pulsing through him.
But behind that power, there was fear.
He saw flashes — memories that didn't belong to this life. A sky full of wings. Fire raining from the clouds. His own hands holding a shining blade.
He remembered… fighting for Heaven.
But it was blurry, incomplete. He couldn't tell if it was real or some trick of the stone.
For days, he tried to ignore it. Tried to forget the book, the pain, the voice. But the dreams kept coming. Every night, he saw the same place — a valley of shadows and whispers. The Domain of Yardcost.
---
The Domain of Yardcost
One night, unable to resist the pull any longer, Hange followed the glow of the stone through the mountains. It guided him like a heartbeat, steady and sure, until he reached a valley hidden between black cliffs.
The air there felt wrong.
Too still. Too thick.
The smell of iron filled his lungs — like blood.
"This is it…" he whispered.
He stepped forward. The temperature dropped instantly. Cursed energy wrapped around him like cold smoke. The shadows shifted even though nothing moved. The sky above swirled in red and black, lightning flashing silently behind the clouds.
Then, from the mist, a voice echoed — deep, ancient, and terrifyingly calm.
> "I knew you would come, Hange. You cannot escape destiny."
A tall figure emerged — Yardcost. His body was made of shifting smoke and fire, his face hidden, eyes glowing crimson like burning coals.
> "Join me," the voice thundered.
"Be my general. Together, we will rise and destroy the Heavens."
Hange stepped back, trembling, but his voice stayed steady.
> "I'll never join you. I fight for life, not against it. I may die, but I won't kneel to you."
The air cracked. Thunder roared.
And the fight began.
Waves of cursed energy hit him like storms. Hange was thrown against stone, his body bleeding, bones screaming. Yardcost was stronger — impossibly strong — but the Fange Stone burned in Hange's hand, urging him to rise again.
> "Fight… Warrior of the Dream…"
He pushed himself up, staggering, his arm glowing brighter with every heartbeat. He fought with everything he had — his pain, his fear, his will to live.
But it wasn't enough.
Yardcost struck him down. The world went black. His heartbeat slowed. His body grew cold.
---
The Rebirth
Then, in the silence, a whisper came.
Soft. Gentle. Familiar.
> "You cannot die here, Hange. You are chosen. You are the saver of all realms. Rise again."
The Fange Stone flared with light — gold, fierce, alive.
When Hange opened his eyes again, he wasn't in the valley. He was in his bedroom. Morning sunlight poured through the window.
His wounds were gone. His body was whole. His skin glowed faintly where the markings had been. The Book of Spirit lay beside him, quiet but warm to the touch.
He looked in the mirror. His reflection was… different. His eyes shone faintly gold, his face calm but older somehow — as if he'd seen things beyond life and death.
It didn't feel like a dream. It felt real.
He took a long breath, trying to steady himself. Whatever had happened, it had changed him forever.
Later that day, he dressed neatly and went for his interview at Shangchow Company, a global sports vehicle firm. He shook hands, smiled politely, answered every question calmly — but deep inside, he could still feel the Fange Stone's pulse beneath his skin.
He passed the interview easily.
And as he walked out of the building, the world seemed… quieter. But he knew the silence wouldn't last.
Because somewhere, far beyond the clouds, in that cursed valley — Yardcost was waiting.