The palace was no longer silent.
Cracks spread across the stone walls like spiderwebs, crawling outward with a low grinding sound. Dust drifted from the ceiling in thin gray streams. Servants fled through the corridors in panic while guards shouted orders that echoed against the marble halls.
Something had changed.
Something dangerous.
Inside the royal chamber, darkness ruled.
The torches along the walls had exploded moments earlier, leaving only pale moonlight leaking through the shattered windows. Shadows stretched across the floor like long black fingers.
And in the center of that darkness—
The baby's silver eyes glowed.
Soft.
Cold.
Unnatural.
The king took a slow step backward.
For the first time in years, fear tightened around his chest.
"What is this power?" he whispered.
The royal prophet remained on his knees, trembling violently. Sweat rolled down his face as he stared at the child.
"It is not magic," he said hoarsely.
His voice shook.
"It is something older."
A pause.
Something forbidden.
Suddenly—
WHOOSH.
A violent gust of wind burst through the broken window. Curtains snapped sharply. Cold air flooded the chamber, sending shivers across every spine.
The temperature dropped.
Fast.
Unnaturally fast.
The queen tightened her grip around her child. Her breathing grew shallow. Her instincts screamed a warning she could not ignore.
Danger.
Coming.
Far above the palace—
On the highest tower roof—
A shadow moved.
Silent.
Deadly.
A lone figure crouched at the edge of the stone ledge, hidden beneath a dark cloak soaked with rain. Water dripped steadily from the hood, tapping against the stone below.
His eyes were calm.
Emotionless.
Professional.
This man was not a soldier.
Not a knight.
Not a guard.
He was something far more dangerous.
An assassin.
Slowly, he reached into his belt and drew a thin dagger.
The blade was black.
Not painted.
Not coated.
Naturally black.
Forged from a rare metal reserved for a single purpose—
Killing powerful targets.
He stared down at the glowing window below.
The royal chamber.
The target.
The child.
"Order confirmed," the assassin whispered.
His voice was steady.
Without hesitation.
"Primary objective: eliminate the forbidden child."
He rose smoothly to his feet.
Balanced perfectly on the narrow stone ledge.
Wind howled around him, tugging at his cloak, but he did not move.
Did not hesitate.
Did not feel fear.
Because this was his profession.
Then—
He jumped.
Inside the chamber, the queen suddenly gasped.
Her body stiffened.
Her instincts screamed.
"Someone is coming," she whispered.
The knight standing near the door instantly reached for his sword.
The king's expression hardened.
"Guards!" he shouted.
But it was already too late.
CRASH.
The window exploded inward.
Glass shattered across the chamber like a storm of knives. A dark figure rolled across the marble floor and landed silently on one knee.
Perfect balance.
Perfect control.
Perfect timing.
The assassin had arrived.
The guards rushed forward instantly.
"Stop him!"
Steel clashed against steel.
Sparks burst into the air as swords struck the assassin's blade. The sound echoed violently through the chamber.
But the attacker moved faster.
Much faster.
He twisted his body smoothly, slipping between strikes with terrifying precision.
One motion.
One slash.
A guard's weapon spun from his hand.
Another motion.
Another strike.
A second guard collapsed to the ground.
The assassin did not hesitate.
Did not waste movement.
Did not show emotion.
He moved like a machine.
Cold.
Efficient.
Deadly.
The queen backed away, clutching the baby tightly against her chest.
Her heart raced.
Her legs trembled.
But she refused to let go.
Never.
The king stepped forward, drawing his sword with a sharp metallic hiss.
His voice thundered across the chamber.
"Protect the child!"
More guards flooded into the room.
Weapons raised.
Faces tense.
Yet even as they surrounded the attacker—
A strange realization spread among them.
They were not facing a normal enemy.
The assassin slowly lifted his head.
His gaze locked onto the baby.
The glowing silver eyes.
The calm expression.
The impossible child.
For the first time—
The assassin hesitated.
Only for a fraction of a second.
Then—
The baby looked directly back at him.
Not randomly.
Not blindly.
Deliberately.
Their eyes met.
And in that instant—
The assassin felt something he had not felt in years.
Fear.
Deep inside the baby's mind—
The ancient voice returned.
Cold.
Mechanical.
Emotionless.
"Host in danger."
A brief pause.
Then—
"Defensive response activated."
Suddenly—
The air inside the chamber grew heavy.
Pressure filled the room like an invisible ocean pressing down from above. The torches along the walls flickered violently, their flames bending sideways.
The assassin's body froze.
Not by chains.
Not by hands.
By something unseen.
His muscles locked.
His breathing slowed.
His dagger trembled in his grip.
"What… is this?" he whispered.
The prophet screamed.
"Get away from the child!"
"Now!"
But it was too late.
A faint pulse of light spread outward from the baby's body.
Slow.
Steady.
Unstoppable.
The marble floor beneath the assassin cracked with a sharp splitting sound. Dust burst into the air. The pressure grew heavier with every passing second.
Stronger.
Stronger.
Stronger.
Then—
BOOM.
An invisible shockwave exploded outward.
The assassin was hurled across the chamber, smashing into the stone wall with tremendous force. The impact echoed like thunder, shaking the entire tower.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Absolute.
The guards stared in disbelief.
The king stood frozen.
The queen held her child tightly, her body shaking.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
The assassin slowly slid down the wall.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
His breathing was shallow.
Weak.
Broken.
But he was still alive.
Barely.
The baby's glowing eyes slowly dimmed.
The crushing pressure in the room faded.
The cracks in the floor stopped spreading.
And silence returned once more.
The prophet turned slowly toward the king.
Pure terror filled his eyes.
"You see it now," he whispered.
"This child…"
He swallowed hard.
"…is not meant to live among us."
The king stared at his son.
At the destruction.
At the fear on every face in the chamber.
At the impossible power that had just saved the child's life.
His grip tightened around his sword.
And for the first time—
Doubt entered his heart.
Far below the palace—
Deep within the darkness—
The ancient seal cracked again.
A third fracture spread across its surface.
Chains rattled violently.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
And from the shadows, a deep voice echoed through the underground chamber:
"The protector has awakened."