The world smelled of smoke and blood.
Kieran sat trembling amid the ruins of Kaelith, his thin arms wrapped tightly around his chest as if trying to hold himself together. His hands clutched a splintered wooden toy — the last piece of his life before the world shattered. It was a carved bird, wings spread in flight. His father had made it for him weeks ago, smoothing the edges with calloused hands so Kieran wouldn't get splinters. Now, one wing was broken, just like the home that had crumbled around him.
He had cried until his throat burned, sobbing into the ash-stained air, but no tears came anymore. Only silence. A silence not of peace, but the suffocating hush of a boy who had seen too much.
Above him, the black leviathans prowled the sky. They glided like predators circling wounded prey, their hulls veined with crimson light that pulsed in time with a deep, droning hum. Every time that sound rolled through the air, the rubble beneath Kieran's legs vibrated, dust falling from shattered stones.
The Thasaract ships blotted out the sun. Their shadows dragged over Kaelith's ruined streets, swallowing the cries of its people. Fires burned in the distance, their smoke twisting skyward to join the invaders in darkening the heavens.
Somewhere close, a woman screamed — high, shrill, and cut short by the sharp hiss of an energy beam. Then came the silence again.
Kieran pressed his hands over his ears. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anymore.
But the silence was worse.
---
The air shifted. It wasn't wind — not the soft kiss of the sea breeze Kaelith was known for — but a vibration, deep and unsettling. It made his ribs ache, his teeth hum, and the broken toy shake in his hands. He looked up.
The sky was no longer just smoke and fire. Runes of gold unfurled like fireflies in the dusk, spinning lazily at first, then gathering into burning sigils that painted themselves against the void. They weren't letters he knew, yet something in him understood their weight. They were older than words, older than his world itself.
One of them broke away.
It descended, weaving through the smoke, and hovered before him. Kieran's breath hitched as it drifted lower, closer, until it pressed against the skin of his arm.
He screamed when it burned.
It wasn't the fire of flames but something deeper, as though molten light had been poured into his veins. He clawed at his skin, but the mark only sank deeper, etching itself into him. When the glow faded, a spiral remained — endless, shifting inward and outward all at once, black edged in silver, as if alive.
He stared, panting, his chest heaving. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.
Why… why me?
---
The voice came again, but this time it wasn't a chorus.
It was everywhere. In the air. In the stone. In his blood.
"ChildrenofEuphoria."
Kieran's head whipped around, eyes wide. No one was there, yet the world itself seemed to speak.
"Yourworldbleeds. Yourcriesreachus, andweawaken."
The other survivors in the distance froze, their eyes fixed on invisible screens before them. Some screamed. Others collapsed, clutching their heads. Kieran blinked, and then he saw his own screen shimmer into existence — a faint, translucent panel of golden light, words etching themselves across it as though written by unseen hands.
[System Awakening...]
Identity: Mortal Vessel Detected
Status: Compatible
Synchronizing with Legacy...
Warning: Primordial Signature Found
Primordial.
He didn't know the word, but the moment his eyes touched it, his heart lurched. It felt heavy, dangerous, as though the screen itself carried a weight meant to crush him.
The air grew darker. Not with smoke, but with shadows that stretched unnaturally, bending around him as if the world itself leaned closer.
And then the voice came again.
Singular. Deep. Endless.
"Child… youcalled, andIhaveanswered."
Kieran's breath caught. His lips trembled. "Wh-who… who are you?"
From the shadows, a form coiled into being. It wasn't flesh and bone, but smoke and starlight, taller than any human should be. Its outline shifted with every heartbeat, never still, as if reality itself couldn't hold it. Two eyes burned within the darkness — twin stars devoured by the void.
Kieran couldn't move. His body refused him.
"I am Chaos. The first breath. The last silence. From me, all things were born… and to me, all things return."
The words shook him to his core. They weren't just sound — they were truth, pressing into his soul, leaving no room for doubt.
His throat went dry. "Why me?" he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm… I'm nobody."
The shadow leaned closer, and though it had no face, Kieran felt its gaze pierce deeper than eyes could.
"It is always the forgotten who are seen. The world has chosen you, and through you, I shall move."
---
The spiral on his arm flared. He cried out, clutching it as the screen shifted again.
[Primordial Legacy Acquired]
Name: The Spiral of Chaos
Status: Dormant
Warning: Unstable. Vessel unprepared.
Pain surged through him like wildfire. It wasn't the pain of flesh but of existence itself — as though his very soul was being torn and reforged. He collapsed to his knees, fingers digging into the dirt, the broken toy clattering away. His vision fractured with bursts of shadow and light. The rubble around him rattled, stones splitting, ash rising in spirals that mirrored the mark on his arm.
He screamed, his voice lost beneath the roar of the invading ships. The world itself seemed to echo his cry.
And then, as suddenly as it began, the agony ebbed, leaving him trembling and drenched in sweat. He gasped for breath, eyes darting as the screen flickered once more.
Skill Tree: Locked
Legacy Blessing: Resonance of the Void (Sealed)
Note: Survival grants strength. The greater the struggle, the greater the awakening.
Kieran stared, chest heaving. He didn't understand. None of it made sense. But he knew — instinctively, in the marrow of his bones — that this was no ordinary blessing.
The shadow bent lower, its voice now a whisper that coiled around his ear like smoke.
"Rise, Kieran of no name. From this moment, you are bound to my legacy. The age of silence is over. The Reckoning begins with you."
The words seared themselves into him, heavier than the rubble crushing Kaelith, heavier than the ships blotting out the sun.
The figure dissolved, its form unraveling into the night. The mark on his arm pulsed once, then dimmed to a faint glow, like an ember waiting for breath.
Kieran collapsed sideways, clutching his chest. His body shook, not only from pain but from the memory of that voice. Around him, the screams of Kaelith rose again — the distant roar of fire, the shrieks of the dying, the thunder of the Thasaract's advance.
But this time, he did not feel entirely powerless.
For the first time since his world had fallen apart, Kieran felt something stir inside him. Not hope — not yet. But the raw spark of defiance.
And he clung to it like a drowning man to driftwood.