Chapter 9 – Eclipse
The room was quiet — a bit too quiet.
Light poured through the glass ceiling, painting the marble floor in pale gold.
Damon sat still, elbows on his knees, the dog curled on his lap, both of them staring at the Queen seated before them.
"Your world is at stake," she said calmly. "And you're the only solution."
The words echoed in his ears.
Damon blinked once, twice — then looked down at the dog. They stared at each other.
It tilted its head up at him, eyes round and questioning.
"My what now?" the dog barked once — sharp, bewildered.
The Queen smiled faintly, like someone hearing an old memory instead of a question.
"Perhaps…" she said, rising from her seat, "I should start from the beginning."
The air shifted.
The golden light from the ceiling dimmed, turning soft amber — like sun rays caught behind glass. Dust moved gently in the light, each speck moving randomly.
Even the sound of Damon's breath grew quiet. It felt as though the entire room wanted to listen.
"Long ago," his mother began, her voice smooth but distant, "there were only three planes of existence — the Realm of the Fortunas, what you humans call Heaven… the Dominion of Kroxus — Hell… and the one where you were born, where we were born. The world we called Vireya."
The word moved something faint in Damon — a fog of familiarity clouding his mind.
Vireya.
It sounded like a memory that wasn't his.
"On Vireya," she continued, "beings lived across many lands and skies. Humans thrived in balance — some blessed with Eterna, others gifted in craft, mind, or strength. For a time, they built together. But peace," she said softly, "is a fragile thing. It starts to die quietly before anyone realises it's truly gone."
Her words painted the world as she spoke: she described golden skies, floating isles, rivers of light running through forests.
A paradise so pure it hurt to imagine. "Something like that could only exist in dreams of today" she stated.
"The nobles who wielded Eterna began to look down on those who couldn't, they began to think of eterna as a right rather than a gift" she said. "And those without it… began to hate those who could."
Damon's brow furrowed. "Guess discrimination doesn't change with new worlds," he muttered.
His mother's gaze lingered on him for a heartbeat — a flicker of sorrow crossing her eyes — before she continued.
Among the eterna-blooded was a man named Saro. Brilliant. Respected.
And one day, before thousands, he stood at the gates of the capital — his eyes burning with Eterna's glow, his voice echoing like thunder.
"Those without Eterna have no right to power!"
Some cheered. Others screamed in joy. Some protested. Others feared what may come.
And somewhere unseen, a shadow smiled.
Kroxus.
A being older than time itself — neither god nor man, but the ruin of both. He watched through the cracks of creation, amused by how easily pride grew in the hearts and minds of mortals.
He whispered — not in Saro's ear, but in his thoughts — a voice so soft it sounded like his own.
And slowly, Saro's pride turned to madness.
Madness turned to doctrine.
And his doctrines became war.
Damon's mother closed her eyes, her voice lowering to a near whisper.
"That… was how the first fracture formed. A war born from pride and the whisper of a devil."
For a moment, Damon thought she was praying. Then she looked up again, her expression unreadable.
"Kroxus didn't act alone," she said. "But we'll get to that part soon."
She clasped her hands behind her back, pacing slowly across the amber light.
"Kroxus hosted himself in Saro's once noble heart, twisting it, inhabiting Saro's body like a second soul. He watched chaos spread like wildfire — and when nations began to burn, his smile only grew brighter."
Damon leaned back in the chair Hazel had crafted from eterna. "So let me guess," he muttered. "That's when your 'hero' shows up."
Her lips curved faintly — but not from amusement. "Something like that. But not yet."
"Dr Tolrex" the Queen said suddenly, "bring me the scan results — my son's and the creatures"
"As you wish" he said, respectfully bowing.
The light dimmed again, shadows creeping up the walls.
"Kroxus needed more than just one corrupted heart," she continued. "He wanted dominion. So using Saro's body he sent his followers to a place called Loira — a world smaller than Earth, but pure. Peaceful. Their people would rather die than kill."
The dog's ears perked up. "So aliens are real too?" he barked.
The Queen blinked, slightly amused. "What did he say?"
Damon sighed. "He's just… trying to make sense of it."
"Well," she said, "the Loirans weren't human — more like elves from your fairy books." Her gaze softened briefly. "The ones I used to read to you."
A pang hit Damon's chest at that. He didn't respond.
"Anyway," she continued, folding her hands, "Loira didn't resist Kroxus. They didn't even lift a weapon. They stood there — unarmed, unbroken — as his forces burned their lands to ash and froze their bodies. And he loved it. The silence. The surrender."
Damon swallowed. "That's twisted."
The Queen's eyes flicked toward him — just a moment — before drifting elsewhere.
"Perhaps it's time," she said softly, "that I introduce the man you called a hero."
The Queen swerved her hands, bending the light to its will.
The chamber's glass ceiling flared white, the light spilling down into shape.
The glow became dust, dust became color — and in it, a scene unfolded.
A marketplace. Dusty streets. Voices haggling. The scent of fruit and smoke in the air.
And there he was — a man standing by a stall, bartering with a merchant, a small boy tugging at his sleeve.
Gamishi.
Even through the light's distortion, Damon could see it — a strength that wasn't loud, a calm that wasn't weakness.
"Kroxus needed followers for his war," the Queen said. "So he returned to Earth."
Damon frowned. "He left his army on Loira?"
Her gaze sharpened. "Listen carefully, Damon. Kroxus is no simple creature. He duplicated himself. One mind on Loira. Another wearing human skin. Two minds — one creature."
The idea made Damon's skin crawl. "That's… insane."
"It was genius," she replied. "He called himself Kalev — a traveler, a merchant. He tried to tempt the eterna-blooded again, but they'd learned to avoid him. Not out of courage," she said bitterly, "but fear."
The light around them shimmered. The image of the market grew clearer — Gamishi laughing softly with his son, the sun high over the bazaar.
"He tried to live quietly," she whispered. "But fate had other plans."
The scene held still for a heartbeat — a moment of peace frozen before the storm.
Damon's hands tightened on his knees.
He didn't know who this man was yet. But for some reason, the weight in his chest grew heavier — like he could already sense how the story would end, but not how he thought it would.
And the Queen's voice, calm but distant, carried through the silence once more.
"It started with a conversation… about apples."
End of Chapter 9 – Eclipse