"Michael! Wake up, you have college today!"
The voice pierced through the fog of sleep like sunlight through half-closed curtains. Michael stirred lazily on the bed, face buried deep into the pillow, his blanket half-wrapped around his torso like a cocoon. He groaned faintly, lips mumbling against the fabric, "Yawn~~ just five minutes more, Mom..."
His voice trailed off into another snore before the sentence even finished.
A few seconds later, the door slammed open.
"Wake up now! Or you can forget about dinner tonight!"
That one worked like a spell. Michael's eyes snapped open instantly. Dinner was sacred.
The bed squeaked as he sprang upright, messy black hair falling over his eyes. "I'm up! I'm up!" he mumbled, rubbing his face. He stretched, arms rising high until his shirt lifted slightly, revealing the hard lines of his abdomen. The cool morning air brushed against his skin.
Still half-dazed, he turned toward the wall on his right. Two light taps on the small wooden table beside his bed — click, click — and part of the wall shimmered before sliding open silently, revealing a narrow doorway. Without hesitation, he stepped through. The door vanished behind him like mist.
You can guess where he went, right? Ahem. Anyway, let's move on.
Five minutes later, steam rolled out as the door reappeared and opened again. Michael emerged with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his neck and chest. He ran his fingers through his hair, now damp and darker, and walked toward the tall mirror beside the bed.
He stopped and stared.
"Hmm... my muscles have grown quite well," he murmured, flexing slightly. "And my face... still handsome as ever. Six feet tall now too. Heh."
He smiled at his reflection — not out of arrogance, but with the easy confidence of someone who knew what he saw.
Still, maybe he was a little too fond of complimenting himself.
He dried off, slipped into black trousers, and pulled over a white-and-black hoodie. It hugged his frame perfectly, matching his toned build. Slinging his backpack onto one shoulder, he slid his MacBook inside and zipped it up before heading out.
The house greeted him with the warmth of familiarity — sunlight spilling across the polished stairs, faint aroma of toast drifting from below. He walked down lazily, yawning once more as the floorboards creaked softly beneath his steps.
"Finally awake, huh?" His mother's voice echoed from the kitchen. "Today's your first day of college and you were planning to get late?"
Michael ignored her tone, half-smiling, half-grumbling. "I was just... preparing my mindset," he said, stepping into the kitchen.
His mom turned from the counter, hands on her hips. "Your mindset can wait until after breakfast."
On the dining table sat two sandwiches, still steaming slightly. He picked one up without ceremony and bit into it. Crispy bread, soft eggs, melted cheese — perfection.
"You could at least answer me properly," she said, shaking her head.
He only grinned between bites, finishing the sandwich quickly before grabbing the second one.
As he chewed, he suddenly asked, "Mom, what do you think about me getting a girlfriend?"
That question froze her mid-movement. She looked up, blinking. "Where did that come from?"
Michael frowned slightly. "Umm... just a casual question. If it were to happen, would it be a problem?"
For a moment, silence filled the room. Then his mother's expression softened. "Why would that be a problem? You're not a kid anymore. If you like someone, you should go for it. Why ask me that?"
Michael met her gaze, eyes calm but serious. Something unreadable flickered behind them.
He gave a faint smile, picked up the water bottle, and drank quietly. "No reason," he murmured before turning toward the door.
He didn't say goodbye — not out of rudeness, just habit.
The morning light outside was crisp and golden. The neighborhood was quiet, birds darting from wire to wire. Michael slung his bag higher and began walking down the road, earbuds dangling unused around his neck.
After a few steps, he stopped.
A faint shiver ran through his body — not of cold, but something else. His expression shifted, the easy calm replaced by a piercing stillness. His gaze turned toward the right, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Hmm? What's this?" he whispered under his breath. "This kind of energy... shouldn't exist on Earth."
His heartbeat steadied, his senses sharpened. The air felt heavier, like invisible threads of power brushing against reality itself. Michael closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again — and when he did, a faint gleam passed through them, too subtle for any ordinary human to notice.
"Someone's trying to invade Earth, huh?" he said softly, a faint smirk curving his lips. "I could just expand my Sacurus Instant across the Milky Way... but that'd ruin the fun."
His voice was calm, almost playful. "Let's see who dares to cross the boundary."
At that instant, the air in front of him shimmered, forming into a translucent screen that hovered in mid-air, filled with flowing lines of light. His footsteps didn't slow; his body moved naturally as though it didn't need his focus. His eyes, however, were locked on the screen.
Within its glowing depths, an image formed — a figure seated upon a massive black throne.
The view shifted, stretching beyond human comprehension.
Far away, beyond the Milky Way — beyond even the known universe — there lay a vast expanse of void. The emptiness wasn't dark; it pulsed with living galaxies and streams of cosmic light that twisted through the endless abyss.
In that immeasurable space stood a colossal hall forged from starlight and shadow. Upon its throne sat a being whose very body seemed woven from constellations. Stars flickered across his form; galaxies turned slowly within his chest like breathing lungs.
Behind him stood four more entities — tall, silent, their outlines blurred by the gravitational distortion of their own power. Two others knelt at the center of the hall, trembling.
For a long while, no one spoke. The silence carried weight, the kind that pressed against existence itself.
Then the being on the throne spoke — his voice deep and resonant, echoing across countless dimensions.
"So," he said slowly, "did you manage to break the Ancient Barrier surrounding the galaxy within the 43#56$ Universe?"
The two kneeling figures hesitated, their bodies flickering as if struggling to maintain form. "L-Lord..." one began, his voice breaking. "The barrier... it resisted. We tried every method — chaos surge, dimensional fold — nothing worked."
The being's eyes — twin vortexes of light — narrowed. "You failed?"
The hall trembled faintly. Even the void beyond the walls seemed to flinch.
"N-No, my Lord!" the second one stammered, forehead pressed against the ground. "We detected a fluctuation — a presence inside that galaxy. Something ancient... awake."
The atmosphere turned heavy. The four beings standing behind the throne exchanged silent glances.
"Something ancient?" the throne-bound figure repeated, his voice almost curious. "Elaborate."
The kneeling being hesitated. "It felt... similar to your energy, my Lord. But twisted. Refined. As if..." He stopped, unable to find the words.
"As if what?"
"As if it was waiting for us to come."
The figure leaned back on his throne. For the first time, his cosmic features dimmed slightly — a flicker of thought crossing his boundless mind.
"Interesting," he murmured. "So the Guardianof the 43#56$ Universe still exists..."
His voice carried a cold amusement.
On Earth, Michael's screen flickered. He stood there on the quiet roadside, expression unchanging, gaze fixed on the image.
"So they are the ones who are behind this energy fluctuations huh?" he said under his breath.
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "Guess hiding my energy behind that barrier worked too well.But...That Being is too weak compared to what I imagined though....Huh."
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if slightly irritated. "And here I was, trying to enjoy a normal human life. College, food, sleep...but this is gonna be fun as well hehe~"
The screen dissolved into particles of light.
Michael resumed walking, his pace calm, but his expression — that quiet, focused gaze — lingered.
_________
To be continued....