Bangkok, Thailand – 5:32 AM, Present Day
The city of Bangkok was still half-asleep when Tamon "Mon" Ratanakosin jogged through the maze of alleyways that led toward the Chao Phraya River. A warm morning fog hovered over the canal waters, wrapping the streetlamps in a golden haze. Tuk-tuks were parked in crooked rows, and the distant scent of charcoal-grilled pork and old incense wafted in the air. In the quiet before sunrise, even this vibrant city had a heartbeat you could hear if you listened closely.
Mon adjusted the old satchel slung across his back and broke into a run, his worn sneakers thudding against the stone path. As he approached Wat Arun, the Temple of Dawn, the spires began to glow gently, reflecting the first rays of sunlight like spears of fire and ivory.
Wat Arun was ancient and majestic, covered in detailed mosaics of colored porcelain, broken ceramic plates, and sea shells from long-forgotten ships. Rising over 70 meters high, its central prang (spire) stood like a pillar between worlds. Mon always thought it felt alive, watching him, breathing with the wind.
He slowed at the temple courtyard and pressed his palms together in a wai, bowing toward the guardian statue.
"Sawasdee krub, Mae Hanuman," he said with a grin.
(Hello, Father Hanuman.)
A private joke. A temple orphan since birth, he'd long imagined the Monkey God Hanuman was his real father—agile, fearless, and fiercely loyal. It was easier than wondering why no one had ever come back for him.
He stretched his arms, glanced at the sunrise, and turned to leave.
That's when the ground shuddered beneath his feet.
Not a passing tremor. It was deeper, like something ancient stirring under the earth.
Then came the soundless blast, a thunderclap without noise. A pressure wave knocked the breath from his lungs. The sky above the temple warped like water. Birds screamed from the banyan trees and scattered.
He stumbled, catching himself on a low pillar. His ears rang. His pulse thundered.
In the center of the temple courtyard, just past the golden Buddha statue, the air split open.
A jagged vertical ripple formed, shimmering like a mirage. It wasn't a door. It was a tear, a fracture in reality.
From it stepped a creature dressed in ancient battle armor of obsidian and jade. Towering and muscular, with glowing golden tattoos across his chest and arms. Its face was expressionless, but its eyes—void-black—burned with unnatural stillness.
A yaksha.
A temple guardian spirit. Carved into temple murals, whispered about by monks. Not real.
Until now.
"Chai mai…?" Mon whispered. "No way…"
(No… this can't be real…)
The yaksha raised its hand, fingers splayed, palm facing Mon. A crackling orb of red flame began to gather.
Mon dove instinctively behind a sandstone wall. The energy blast struck the pillar where he had stood, exploding it into shards.
"This is insane," Mon muttered, crouched low. "This is a hallucination. A concussion. Something I ate..."
The yaksha advanced slowly, the ground cracking beneath its bare feet. It raised its hand again, gathering more power.
Before Mon could run, a second explosion crashed down from the sky.
A figure slammed into the temple courtyard between him and the yaksha. A girl—barely older than Mon, surrounded in lightning. Blue-white energy crackled across her arms as she formed a glowing hand seal.
"Liwanag ng langit… sagipin siya!" she chanted.
(Light of the heavens… protect him!)
A bolt of lightning lashed forward, striking the yaksha square in the chest. It howled, not with pain; but fury, as its form cracked like porcelain and dissolved into ash.
Silence fell.
Only the low hum of fading magic and the temple bell's soft chime in the wind.
Mon peeked from behind the ruined pillar. The girl turned toward him.
She was Filipina, sharp-eyed, steady. Her arms were marked with baybayin script, glowing faintly: diwa, kalasag, liwanag.
(spirit, shield, light.)
She held out her hand. "Come with me, Tamon. You're not safe here anymore."
His eyes widened. "How do you know my name?"
She glanced toward the stone gate still flickering with unstable energy. "Because you're one of us."
A second tear opened at the edge of the temple courtyard. Not red like the first, but silver and blue. A portal. Mon stepped back, unsure.
"Wait, who even are you?"
The girl didn't smile. She simply said:
"Your gods are real. And they're being hunted."
Interlude: Somewhere Else
In a black marble room filled with humming monitors, Dr. Kael Yurei watched the live footage from Wat Arun.
He rewound the energy signature again, watching the moment Mon's aura flared. Glowing gold, touched by divine inheritance.
"Hybrid confirmed," he murmured. "Unregistered. Thai lineage. Estimated parent: Hanuman-class."
His assistant stepped into the shadows of the lab. "Should we dispatch retrieval?"
Kael's eyes glinted. "No. Let him run. Let all of them awaken. It draws the gods out."
He approached a machine pulsing with violet energy, inside it, divine runes flickered like dying stars.
"When they gather," Kael whispered, "we erase them together."