Darkness surrounded the child.
Thick.
Silent.
Endless.
The hidden passage stretched deep beneath the ruins of the royal palace, its narrow stone walls damp and cold. Faint torchlight flickered along the tunnel, casting long shadows that trembled across the floor.
The baby lay quietly on the ground.
Alone.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
No movement.
No sound.
Only the distant echoes of battle rumbling somewhere far above.
Then—
The child blinked.
Slowly.
His silver eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.
Calm.
Unafraid.
Watching.
Deep inside his mind—
The ancient voice spoke again.
Cold.
Mechanical.
Emotionless.
"Primary guardian lost."
A brief pause.
Then—
"Evaluating survival options."
Far above the passage—
The palace burned.
Flames spread through the corridors like a living storm, devouring curtains, wooden beams, and royal banners. Thick smoke poured into the night sky as soldiers shouted commands and servants fled in panic.
Explosions echoed across the fortress.
Glass shattered.
Stone cracked.
The kingdom was falling.
Outside the palace walls—
The sky glowed orange.
Citizens gathered in the streets, staring in horror at the burning towers.
"What is happening?" one man shouted.
"The palace is on fire!" another cried.
Fear spread through the crowd like wildfire.
Inside the underground passage—
The baby suddenly moved.
A small hand lifted slightly.
His fingers curled.
Then—
The stone floor beneath him trembled.
Very lightly.
Very briefly.
A faint pulse of energy spread outward from his body.
Soft.
Gentle.
Guiding.
The torch flames along the tunnel flickered.
Then steadied.
Their light grew brighter.
As if responding to him.
The child slowly turned his head.
His glowing eyes focused on the path ahead.
Toward the darkness.
Toward survival.
Moments later—
Heavy footsteps echoed through the tunnel behind him.
Fast.
Urgent.
Dangerous.
A group of armored soldiers appeared at the far end of the passage, their torches casting long shadows across the walls.
Their leader stepped forward, scanning the ground.
"There are signs of movement," he said sharply.
"Search the tunnel."
The soldiers spread out immediately.
Weapons drawn.
Eyes alert.
They moved cautiously, following the narrow path deeper into the darkness.
One soldier suddenly stopped.
His torchlight fell upon a small figure lying on the ground ahead.
His eyes widened.
"There!" he shouted.
The others rushed forward instantly.
Their boots thundered against the stone.
Closer.
Closer.
The baby remained still.
Silent.
Watching.
Within seconds, the soldiers surrounded him.
One of them knelt down carefully, studying the child's glowing eyes.
His face turned pale.
"It's him," he whispered.
"The forbidden child."
A tense silence followed.
Fear crept into their expressions.
They had heard the warnings.
The prophecy.
The stories whispered in the dark.
Their leader stepped forward slowly.
His grip tightened around his sword.
"We must finish this," he said.
His voice was steady.
But his hands trembled.
He raised his blade.
The steel caught the torchlight.
Cold.
Sharp.
Deadly.
The moment stretched.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Then—
The baby's eyes flashed.
A sudden gust of wind surged through the tunnel.
The torches flickered violently.
The ground trembled beneath their feet.
Cracks spread across the stone walls.
Dust rained from the ceiling.
The soldiers staggered backward in shock.
"What is happening?!" one of them shouted.
The air grew heavier.
Harder to breathe.
Harder to move.
The leader tried to step forward.
But his legs refused.
His body froze.
Locked in place.
Fear filled his eyes.
Real fear.
A low rumble echoed deep within the tunnel.
Slow.
Powerful.
Unstoppable.
Then—
The ceiling collapsed.
BOOM.
Stone crashed down from above, slamming into the ground between the soldiers and the child.
Dust exploded into the air.
Debris filled the tunnel.
The path was sealed.
Silence followed.
Broken only by falling rubble.
The soldiers stared in disbelief at the collapsed passage.
Their path to the child was gone.
Blocked.
Destroyed.
Impossible to cross.
The baby lay safely on the other side of the fallen stones.
Untouched.
Protected.
Alive.
Slowly—
The dust settled.
The rumbling stopped.
The tunnel grew quiet once more.
The soldiers exchanged nervous glances.
None of them dared to move.
None of them dared to speak.
Finally—
Their leader lowered his sword.
His voice trembled.
"This child…"
He swallowed hard.
"…is cursed."
Far above—
The palace tower collapsed into flames.
A massive explosion shook the night.
Fire lit the sky.
The royal palace — once the heart of the kingdom — was falling.
An era was ending.
Deep inside the tunnel—
The baby's silver eyes slowly dimmed.
The strange pressure faded.
The danger passed.
And the ancient voice inside his mind spoke once more.
Cold.
Precise.
Certain.
"Escape successful."
A brief pause.
Then—
"Next objective: survive."