The garden smelled of wet earth and crushed grass, mingled with the faint sweetness of late summer flowers. The stone path beneath me was cool, uneven, rough against my palms as I sat cross-legged, staring at the sky. Twilight stretched its fingers across the horizon, the first stars shyly peeking through the deepening blue.
Lyra and Lyna, my ten-year-old twin sisters, were sprawled on the grass a few meters away, their fingers swiping clumsily across my phone. Lyra's hair was a shimmering silver, always catching the light, while Lyna's jet-black strands contrasted sharply. Their crystal-red eyes, so like mine, sparkled with excitement as they laughed softly, exchanging glances and teasing one another over some game or another. I watched them, expression unreadable, but the corners of my lips twitched slightly. Their energy made the evening feel alive, even as a strange unease bubbled within me
I tilted my head back, trying to ignore the growing weight in my chest. The first sliver of the moon peeked above the treetops, pale and cold. My heartbeat throbbed against my ribs in a rhythm that didn't belong entirely to me. Something… stirred.
Draven Vael, my father, emerged from the estate house, broad shoulders straight, long strides measured. He was imposing, as always, even when calm. His short black hair fell neatly across his forehead, dark eyes scanning the garden until they landed on me. There was concern there, threaded with an unshakable calm. A martial artist of Rank 8, his reputation preceded him, and even now, I felt the weight of his presence.
"Arlan," he called, voice low but firm. "Steady yourself."
Selene Vael, my mother, appeared behind him. Slightly taller than me now in hindsight, her long black hair framed a composed face, sharp but gentle. Rank 7 in martial arts, she moved with fluidity, almost gliding across the stone path, hands outstretched as if to catch me without touching. Her touch always grounded me, calm and unyielding.
But it wasn't their presence that struck me most. It was what was happening inside me.
A warmth began pooling in my chest, subtle at first, like liquid fire, then rapidly expanding. My breathing hitched. My fingers trembled, clutching at the stone beneath me. The air felt thicker, heavier, pressing against my lungs. Shadows seemed to crawl at the edges of my vision.
I remembered faint glimpses of another life. Streets slick with rain, asphalt glowing under neon lights, and a friend who had recommended a novel—strange and mysterious—about towers linking worlds, destabilizing space, spawning Gates that connected planets, and Dungeons where monsters thrived. I didn't remember their names. Only the feelings. Only the faint, uneasy resonance of a world unlike this one.
And then I remembered my choices, made before awakening here:
Heart of Cyrus.
Martial Supremacy.
Bloodline Integration Stone.
The warmth twisted into sharp fire. Pain clawed through every muscle, vein, and nerve. My legs gave way, and the world tilted violently. Lyra and Lyna's voices became distant, warped.
"Arlan!" Lyra's voice cracked, fear creeping into the syllables.
I could not answer. Could not even move. My body felt as if molten metal coursed beneath the skin, writhing, expanding. Pain tore through my chest, throbbing in rhythm with the foreign pulse inside me.
Draven and Selene reached me, steadying my trembling body. "Endure it," Draven said. "Interfere now, and it will destroy you."
I tried. My teeth clenched. My hands dug deeper into the stone. My mind strained to grasp the foreign energy surging in me, but it was… overwhelming. Alien. Mine, yet not mine.
Then the darkness swallowed me.
---
I woke hours later, lying on the soft mat of my room. Moonlight poured through the window, silvering the walls. Lyra and Lyna sat quietly by the foot of my bed, leaning on each other, wide-eyed and silent. My phone lay abandoned, the faint glow from the screen barely illuminating their small, tense faces.
Selene crouched beside me, hand resting lightly on my shoulder, her calm presence anchoring me. "You're awake," she murmured. Relief softened her features.
Draven remained near the doorway, arms crossed, crimson eyes calm yet sharp, analyzing every microexpression. "Your body is weak," he said finally. "But you endured. That is what matters tonight."
I tried to respond. Nothing came. The pulse within me still throbbed, relentless. My first awakening. Painful, messy, and late—but undeniably mine.
I gazed at my reflection in the glass: crystal crimson eyes, wide and alert. My tall frame, my muscles, the subtle difference in my posture—all pieces of a body designed for something beyond ordinary. Martial Supremacy. Reflexes that made me quicker than most. Strength surpassing my years. And the Bloodline Integration Stone… an artifact I would only ever use once.
A faint, unreachable memory flitted through me: Earth. Streets, friends, rain, neon lights. A life I could no longer touch. A novel, a story about towers, worlds, and chaos. I muttered to myself: "One-time… use…"
Selene's glance caught me. "Hm?"
I shook my head. "Nothing."
That was enough. Words were never my strength. Observation was. The world would have to reveal itself to me slowly.
I turned my gaze to my sisters, the twin red crystals shining faintly in the moonlight. They laughed quietly, oblivious, energetic. Their presence, familiar and grounding, reminded me that some connections remained unbroken. Family. Blood. Home.
The night pressed in, heavy and alive, a silent watcher. Somewhere deep inside, something older stirred. Not yet awake, but waiting.For now, I breathed. Quiet. Patient. Observant.
Late awakener. Silent. Different.