"They say the world will end ten times before it truly dies. Not in fire… not in floods… but in the corruption of a man's heart."
Prologue 1 - Princesses blood
Rosalía, no older than eight, sat at the edge of the sunlit garden, watching the children weave and dash through the warm light. Their laughter tinkled like delicate bells, stirring a sharp twist of envy in her chest. She ached to join them—to run, to leap, to feel the sky above her without walls or guards. One of the children spotted her and waved, eyes bright with excitement.
"Come on, Rosalía!" the child called.
Her face lit up with pure joy, a bright smile spreading across her small features. She darted forward, but her guards stepped in. Their towering forms blocked her path like shadows.
"Come on," she pleaded, tugging at the hem of her dress. "It's for a little bit. Besides, I'll stay in view."
The guards remained statuesque, silent, and cold, their emotionless expressions unyielding. Everything shifted when the queen appeared at the edge of the garden. The guards stiffened at once, then sank to their knees with elegance.
"Your Majesty," they intoned in unison, their voices low and respectful.
Rosalía's smile faltered, caught between her longing for play and the awe that filled her in her mother's presence. Her mother's eyes softened, noticing the emotion flickering across her daughter's face.
"Your dress and hair are a mess," she said with a small smile. "Let me fix them."
"What's the point if I can barely leave?" Rosalía muttered.
Her mother laughed with a gentle sound and began selecting a new dress for her. As she brushed Rosalía's hair, the girl said, "You know I can leave the mansion without titan-level guards."
"I know," her mother replied with a steady voice.
"LOOK!"
Rosalia jumped, focusing on awakening her soul. A beautiful, deep-red aura flared around her. It glowed brightly but wildly, spilling out and draining her strength. She collapsed in exhaustion.
Her mother smiled with warmth. "You lasted longer this time," she said, patting her lap.
Rosalía crawled onto her mother's lap, watching as the last strands of hair were brushed smooth.
"The stars are not yet ready for your flight," her mother murmured softly. "When the cages fall and you awaken your true self, the world will know your freedom."
"Ouch—" Rosalía winced.
"Oh! Sorry, too tight," her mother chuckled.
Prologue 2 Sun's Wrath
BAANG! The air crackled as Solven faced his master in the ruined courtyard.
"COME ON, Sol! If you can't control your sun, then what's the point of you being born? Don't tell me you're weak like your sister! COME AT ME!!!"
Anger and determination flared inside Sol. His star flared outward, brightening the area like a blazing sun against the void.
"FINE! YOU WANT MY ALL? THEN HERE, YOU OLD ASS!"
The stars shifted from yellow to orange in an instant, shooting toward Zagg as Sol charged. Olvin stared, unimpressed.
"I thought the stars would turn red... hell, I thought... never mind. This is disappointing."
He waved his hand, and the star's weight increased dramatically. The core began collapsing inward, creating mini black holes. Sol's control faltered.
"Your stars are too weak to survive this pressure. Is this the son I bore?"
In a flash, the black holes vanished. Olvin closed the distance without Sol even reacting and punched him in the stomach, forcing Sol to cough up blood.
"Damn it!" Sol struck the ground, bleeding and crying out in frustration. "Why am I still so weak?!"
Olvin stepped back, dismissive. "Training's done. Go wash yourself and continue your soul studies."
Prologue 3 Guns and Steele
BOTH KNEES! 0/35 — BANG! LEFT UPPER ARM! 0/75 — BANG! RIGHT KIDNEY! 0/12 — BANG! LEFT CHEST! 0/0 — Missed. MIDDLE FINGER! 0/98 — Missed.
The computer beeped. "Training session over. Score: 56."
Alice stared at the screen. Fifty-six? That's... lame. Two months of training and she was still stuck in the fifties—only up by four.
A familiar voice cut in. "Wasn't our brother in the eighties at your age?"
Alice clenched her jaw. "Shut it. He only hit the nineties because Mom trained him. If she were still here..." Her voice trailed off, heavy with the memory.
Alana dropped an arm around Alice's shoulders. "We miss her too," she said with a small, forced laugh. "But she wouldn't want us moping. She'd shoot us for whining about training being hard."
"But—" Alice started.
Alana squeezed her shoulder and cut her off. "The guns belong to Mom. When the contract broke, they went to you—not to our brother, not to me. Of course I can't use Soul, or hand it to anyone else, but that means something. It means you have the same potential as both Mom and him. Maybe more. So get up. Let's train. I may not have Soul, but that doesn't mean I can't shoot."
Alice looked up. For a moment, the doubt fell away, replaced by a bright, steady resolve.
"Yeah," she said.
Chapter 1
Promise Me
Sunlight poured through the thin curtains, cutting across the messy bedroom floor. The alarm clock had been blaring for nearly five minutes, but Rudo lay motionless, his face buried deep in his pillow.
"Honey, wake up! You're going to be late for school!" His mother's voice sliced through the morning air like a sword.
Rudo groaned, pulling the blanket tighter over his head. If I just stay still... maybe she'll think I'm dead, he thought, smirking. Or at least, too sick to go.
That hope vanished with the sound of thunderous footsteps closing in. "I SAID WAAAKE UP!"
Before Rudo could react—BANG! The bed frame splintered beneath him, sending him tumbling to the floor in a cloud of sheets and dust.
"AH! What the hell, Mom?!" Rudo yelled, clutching his side.
Valora stood over him, arms crossed and utterly calm. "Oh dear, I just bought that bed. Look what you made me do. Now go wash your face and come eat breakfast."
"My fault?!" Rudo shouted, eyes wide. "You punched me for no reason, you old hag!"
The room went dead silent. Valora's eyes darkened. "...What was that, dear?" she asked in a tone so icy that the air itself seemed to freeze.
Rudo gulped. "N-nothing!
Valora cracked her knuckles. The neighbors heard the next bang from two houses away.
Downstairs, the smell of French toast, cinnamon buns, and sizzling sausage filled the kitchen. Rudo sat down, rubbing the fresh bump on his head. Despite his injuries, his eyes widened at the feast before him.
"Whoa..." He grabbed his fork and began devouring everything in sight.
Valora poured herself some tea. "By the way," she said casually, "I got a call from your school. Something about a fight? Between students? In a single day?"
Rudo froze mid-bite, then swallowed hard—almost choking. "C-cough! It wasn't my fault! They said horrible things about you, and one of them even called you a—"
"Enough." Valora's voice was sharp. "What did I say about letting it go? They're not worth it."
"But—"
"But nothing. One of them ended up in the hospital, Rudo. He could've pressed charges. You're lucky the parents understood and dropped it... after I paid the hospital bill."
She slid the paper across the table. Rudo's face fell. "Mom, I'm—"
Before he could finish, thwack! Valora flicked him hard on the forehead.
"OW! What was that for?!"
Valora smiled sweetly. "For being a good boy."
He blinked. "Huh?"
"But if you keep acting like this at school," she added, "you'll never find me a daughter-in-law."
Rudo's face turned red. "HUH? W-what are you even talking about?!"
Valora gasped. "Oh my! Look at the time! You'd better start walking before you're late."
"But—"
"No buts! And promise me—no more fights."
Rudo sighed and held up his pinky. "Fine. I promise."
"Good," Valora said, smiling brightly. "Now, go."
As Rudo stepped outside, he couldn't tell if he was more afraid of being late... or of what his mom might do if he got another phone call home.
By the time Rudo reached the main street, the morning air was crisp and alive with the sound of cars and chatter. He tugged his bag higher on his shoulder, muttering, "Just another normal day... please."
Then he saw them. A familiar group of three guys leaning against the fence, grinning like hyenas. Damn it. Not now.
Rudo lowered his head and quickened his pace.
"Hey, look who it is," one of them sneered. "You really think you can just walk past us after what you did?"
Rudo didn't slow down. "Don't have time for you dumbasses today."
A hand shot out, grabbing the back of his bag's collar. "You sent one of our boys to the hospital," the leader growled. "We're here to return the favor."
One of the bullies swung. Rudo moved like lightning—ducking under the punch, pivoting to the side. His body reacted before his brain did. Instinct screamed to hit back, to end it fast. But then—No fights... Promise Mom. He changed the motion mid-swing, twisting his punch just enough to hit the guy's stomach instead of his jaw. A clean, quick strike—nonlethal, but enough to drop him.
"Pathetic," Rudo muttered.
He dodged a punch and slipped behind the second guy. Then, he tapped him on the neck. The tap was hard enough to make him stumble and fall onto the grass. The last bully hesitated.
"Back off," Rudo warned.
But the kid charged anyway. Seconds later, all three were on the ground groaning while Rudo adjusted his tie.
"Next time, don't pick a fight with someone who actually knows how to throw a punch."
He glanced at his phone: 7:58 AM. "Crap—first bell!" Rudo bolted down the street, backpack bouncing.
"SHIT, I'm going to be late because of those assholes!"
Rudo dashed through the school gates just as the bell rang. "Made it!"
"NO RUNNING IN THE HALLS!" barked the hall monitor.
Rudo waved him off. "No time!"
"WHERE'S YOUR HALL PASS? STOP—!"
BUMP! Rudo hit the ground hard. "Ow... what the—"
Standing above him, arms crossed, was none other than Mr. Burns, the strict, stone-faced school president.
"Mr. Kurobine," Burns said coolly. "Late again, are we? That's the fifth time this week."
"Uh... I can explain—"
"And running in the halls," Burns continued. "Not to mention reports of a fight outside the school grounds."
"Fight? What fight?" Rudo said quickly. Then his brain caught up. Oh, crap... that fight.
"It wasn't my fault! They jumped me first!"
Burns sighed. "No excuses. Regardless, you fought on school property, you're late, running in the halls, and failing four of your classes. If this were any other school, you'd be suspended—or expelled."
Rudo frowned. "Then why not kick me out already?"
Burns's gaze sharpened. "Because this school exists for students like you, I'm giving you after-school detention. You'll be assisting the janitor for the week."
"What?! That's not fair! Those dipshits—"
"Watch your language, Mr. Kurobine," Burns interrupted calmly. "As much as I'd love to discipline those delinquents, they're not under my jurisdiction. They attend Vinland High School for the Gifted."
"'Gifted,' my ass. Their parents are just rich; it's not fair," Rudo muttered.
"Life isn't fair," Burns stated with calm resolve. "Some find justice, while others wear the blame. Even heroes, who do right, can face punishment for making the higher-ups lose control. That's reality."
Rudo glared but said nothing.
"That'll be all for now," Burns concluded. "Get to class. I'll inform your mother about detention."
Rudo's blood ran cold. "Wait—you're calling my mom?!"
But the man was already walking away. Rudo clenched his fists, staring at the floor. How am I supposed to be a good kid if I can't even keep one simple promise to you, Mom...?
The final bell had rung hours ago; the school was a hollow echo of lockers and distant lights. Rudo sat hunched on the floor by the trophy case, staring at his phone until the battery icon started to feel like a judge. He jumped when the janitor's broom tapped the tiles.
"Hey, kid—time's up."
The janitor's voice was tired but not unkind. "You did enough. It's dark out. Your parents are probably here to pick you up."
"Yeah... thanks," Rudo said, hoisting his bag. He stood, rubbed his sore ribs, and forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He walked home faster than usual, the neighborhood shrinking around him.
Why isn't she picking up? he thought. Mom never misses my texts. He opened his camera app that streamed his front porch—an old habit when his mom was late. The porch light was on. The door, yet, was wide open. Weird.
He rewound the camera footage.
6:12.33 PM - Nothing
6:15.54 PM - Valora is getting ready to leave the house.
6:16.02 PM - a pair of hands grabs Valora.
6:16.25 - Valora struggled, but the hands look way bigger than any normal human's. His hand almost wraps around her entire neck.
6:16.35 She's gone.
No no no no—
Rudo Panic never before his chest begins to pound. He broke into a run.
Halfway down the street, three shapes stepped out of the shadows, blocking his path near the park where the streetlight flickered. The same three who always lurked. The leader grinned, not like a normal grin, but this time it was different not like his normal little grin this time it felt sinful.
"Where are you going, Mr. Kurobine?" the leader sneered. "Thought you'd get off easy after what you did to us, the embarrassment. Did you know some jackass was recording the entire shit?"
Rudo slowed. Not now. Not tonight. He clinched his fist ready to make quick work.
"Today's the night you DIE," the leader screamed.
One of the bullies slid a blade into his palm. Cold metal flashed.
Rudo's stomach dropped. He pressed his lips together and moved—to attack. The first boy lunged. Rudo dodged with a minor cut, striking the kid and causing him to fall, groaning. The second one came from the left with a wild slice. Rudo ducked under the blade; it nicked his forearm, then a clean sliced to his stomach the cut wasn't deep enough to get to the organs. The bullied smiled with cockyness spouting out "today night the night we win!"
The bullied continue the attack
Rudo countered, using a trash can hood as a shield. The second the bullies lost his swing RUdo used the trash can hood and WRACK the bully in the head causing him to let go of the knife. The leader was different. Calm. Skilled like he trained using a knife "of course he skilled his father a military general. Said Rudo, He circled like a shark and struck with precision. Rudo tried to dodge, but the blade found him: shallow cuts across his ribs, a searing slash down his thigh, and a fatal slash cutting his left eye.and deepening the earlier wound in the stomach.
A brief, brutal scramble erupted. The bully stood tall and proud, shouting, "Tired already? Come on—let's dance some more!"
Rudo stared at him, and in that moment, he saw madness burning in the bully's eyes—wild, unhinged, almost inhuman. For the first time, Rudo felt real fear. Not the fear of losing. Not the fear of pain. Not even the fear of losing his mother at the moment.
It was the fear of knowing—truly knowing—that someone was actually trying to kill him. At this moment Rudo realized there is no fighting to incapacitate no Rudo realized he needed to fight to kill.
Crippled, exhausted, and bleeding too much to stand straight, Rudo could barely lift his arms. The bully moved first, slithering like a snake, ready to strike
Rudo, out of ideas and running on pure desperation, charged forward head on. The blade plunged into his stomach, static-hot pain exploding throughout his body, but he didn't stop. With a ragged cry, he slammed into the leader boy, shoving him backward.
The bully lost his footing into a downhill, leading to the woods crashing through the underbrush. A raw, animal howl tore through the air. When the noise faded, the boy lay twisted among the trees, his arm bent the wrong way.
Rudo staggered to his feet, dizzy. Pain laced his breath; his chest felt like it had been tightened one turn too many. Bones complained—something in his shoulder and a finger sent stabbing stars. He studied the fallen kid, breathing hard. The knife lay a few feet away, forgotten.
MOM!, he told himself, he turned his back, getting ready to run, if not crawl to his mother no matter what, he had to save his mother but the action felt thin.
BANG!
The sound ripped the air—a single, thunderous report that made the world stop. For a second, everything blurred: the cracked pavement, the shallow pool of light, the boy in the trees curled like a broken doll. Rudo's vision tunneled. His ears rang. He froze, every instinct screaming.
What the hell was that?
Rudo turned—too late. The leader's shaking hand gripped a small revolver, probably stolen from his father's drawer. His eyes burned with insanity. No way—he wouldn't—
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The world cracked open. One bullet tore into Rudo's stomach, another ripped through his ribs, and the last through his thigh. He stumbled back, choking on the taste of iron. Blood poured from his mouth as his knees gave out. The ground tilted. The night blurred into static. His vision dimmed; his ears rang like church bells underwater. His body felt cold, fading, distant.
Only one thought pulsed through the fog: DEATH... IS COMING.
The leader laughed — a raw, ugly sound — as he stood over Rudo, moving with the swagger of a hunter who'd cornered his prey.
"You thought it would be this easy?" he sneered. "You're nothing but an animal that needed to be hunted... and put down."
He raised the smoking gun.
The other two bullies froze, faces pale with horror.
"Draven—you actually shot him!?" one stammered. "Are you insane? We were just supposed to scare him, not—"
BANG!
The shot cracked through the air. One of the boys dropped instantly, blood splattering across his friend's face.
Rudo could only stare, disbelief clouding his vision.
The remaining bully let out a scream—high, raw, almost animal—as he stumbled backward.
Draven's expression twisted, tears streaking down his face. "Why did you make me do that, Lester?" he cried, voice breaking.
Lester, trembling and sobbing on the ground, could barely speak. "W-what are you—"
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Draven's laughter broke into madness. "Oh well," he said between cackles, "I'll just find new friends."
Draven turned to Rudo, eyes wild and bloodshot. "Rudooo! Sorry, got a little carried away. Now... where were we?" He grinned, cocking the gun again. "Oh right—me shooting you too."
Rudo lay trembling, every breath scraping against death itself.
I couldn't even protect her... he thought, tears mixing with the blood on his face. I failed as a son. Again. I promised I wouldn't fight... and here I am—ashamed.
"Why... why can't I just be better?" he gasped, voice cracking. "Now I'm going to die to this... this insane person..."
His body convulsed, veins bulging, pain twisting across his face. "Why... why... WHY?!"
His body began to convulse—every muscle locking, his fists clenching so hard that his nails drew blood. It wasn't normal. It wasn't human. The air itself seemed to bend around him. The leader hesitated, his smirk faltering.
"What the hell are you—"
He cocked the gun again, his finger trembling on the trigger.
But before the shot came, something changed. The world didn't stop—it twisted.
Sound stretched thin, every heartbeat pounding like thunder in Rudo's ears. The air felt heavy, the light dimmed.
Then—blur. Motion. Silence.
Draven's eyes went wide, confusion flashing across his face. A knife jutted from his throat, glinting red in the fading light. He staggered once, then collapsed without a sound.
Rudo just stared, chest heaving, unsure if he was still alive... or if time itself had shattered around him.
Rudo knelt there, shaking, staring at his own bloodied hands. What... Did I just do that? The gunshot wounds still burned—but they were closing. Not completely, but enough. Enough to move. Enough to breathe again. He rose, staggering toward his house.
MOM, I have to save Mom. He pushed himself up, blood streaking down his arm. The ground shook beneath his steps, but he didn't stop. Each stride hit harder than the last. The air around him seemed to pulse, his heartbeat echoing like war drums.
His muscles coiled, veins glowing faintly beneath his skin. The pain was still there—but distant now, drowned beneath something fierce and rising. His body moved on instinct—faster, sharper, unstoppable.
Rudo pushed through the ruined doorway and froze. Three figures stood in the center of the living room: two men and a woman. One man was massive, towering like a doorframe at nearly 6'9"–6'10", his raw hunger visible in every movement. His entire body was draped in cloth, giving him an almost otherworldly presence. The second man was tall as well, around 6'3", muscular, with sleek black hair that fell in soft layers like bangs, brushing his eyes. The woman stood at about 5 '7 ", reminiscent of Rudo's mother. Her blue hair was lighter and shorter, but her calm, controlled demeanor radiated a dangerous energy. The most unsettling detail? All three wore blindfolds with a broken infinity in the middle. unreadable edge to their presence.
In the middle of it all, the black-haired man stood over Valora, his hand plunged through her chest. A small, slick, bleeding shape thudded in his palm. Rudo's stomach churned. No words, no sound—only the sound of the heartbeat. Thump... thump... thump Faint and weakening with each second, it still pulsed enough to make his chest tighten, a cruel reminder of a life hanging by a thread.
Valora's eyes met Rudo's, and she smiled. "Dark blue looks beautiful on you, sweetie," she said, her voice thin as smoke.
Rudo had no words. The world narrowed to his mother's heart. The 6'10" brute vanished, in a blink of an eye. The next moment he was behind Rudo.
The man with the heart laughed softly. "Oh." He removed his hand from her chest dropping Valora on the ground with the still-beating heart in his hand and mouthed, "Welcome, sorry for the mess!"
Before the masked man's fist struck, an invisible force stopped the strike mid-air. The attacker froze, fingers trembling as if his arm had been zapped with dying batteries.
"That actually hurts; is this your soul?"
A woman stepped forward. Her voice was low and cold.
"Take my heart; wound it deeply if you must. No harm will grace Rudo."
"The woman probably made a contract before you impaled her."
"Yeah," said the man. "Figures this woman was skilled. Oh well, we're done here. Get rid of the body. Hell, get rid of everything."
The woman flicked her hand like a conductor cutting an orchestra. A single, monstrous BANG filled the house—then the room became a roaring furnace. Flame licked the curtains and ate the ceiling. Shrapnel hissed. The house threw up a geyser of heat and sound; the world tilted. The masked men were forced back from the blast, coughing and shrieking as paint and plaster rained down.
"Damn, warn us before you do that!"
"But you said to get rid of everything, didn't you?"
"YEAH but I didn't mean a huge-ass explosion; shit caught me us off guard."
...
Rudo reacted and tried to attack the man who killed his mother, but the man noticed he was too fast. He grabbed Rudo and hurled him out of the doorway like a ragdoll. He hit the pavement hard; glass cut the back of his hand. For a moment, everything was an abstract pain: the roar of fire, the acrid smoke, the metallic tang of blood. Valora's voice brushed his ears—muffled, small, almost gone. He could not make out the words.
Rudo scrambled to his feet, lungs burning. The man who had held the heart stood inside the conflagration, silhouette haloed by flame. He didn't move to follow; he simply watched, smiling as if he were enjoying a performance.
Rudo stumbled toward the wreckage, toward the man, the smoke, the heart of his mother. Fury burned under the pain. His body trembled with it—an animal's hunger, a son's grief. His mother was trying to say something, but Rudo's ears were already too damaged to hear.
All he could do was choke out a vow, voice raw and small at first, then rising until it cut through the crackle of fire: "COME BACK HERE YOU SON OF A BITCH! I'LL KILL YOU. I'LL TEAR YOUR HEART OUT. I'LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR EVERY BREATH SHE LOST! YOU DAAAMN—COWARD"
The man smiled, unbothered. "She was right—your soul is interesting. Maybe even terrifying, but sure if you want to kill me, I'm here. The man removed his blindfold, showing his face, black hair, red eyes, no scar. handsome. "Name's dragon wanna kill me? Come find me 'cause right now I'll murder your ass." Oh? I can't sense her any more; that means the contract's broken. Arrow, kill him.
Arrow stepped forward. "Didn't you want him to kill you? Also, you're asking me to do a lot today."
"Sorry if he's strong enough; he'll survive."
She opened her palm. In an instant, a bow and arrow appeared in her hands, aiming the arrow toward Rudo.
"Shoot," she ordered.
The arrow flew—a clean, merciless line aimed right through Rudo's chest. Rudo's vision started to black out.
"The boy is strong. One more should do it."
"Shoot," she ordered again.
But before the arrow hit Rudo—something moved in front of him like a wall.
"Mr. Burns?!"