Thousands of years ago, the fall of the crystal was not an accident. It was a fracture in the history of the world.
On a clear night, the sky split open with a sharp blue line, like a glowing wound carved into the darkness. It was not a burning meteor, nor a crumbling celestial body. It descended steadily, deliberately. A massive crystalline structure pierced the atmosphere without breaking apart and struck deep within a forest that lay under the rule of a vast and merciless empire.
Cities trembled. Walls cracked. From the heart of the forest, a pillar of deep blue light surged upward into the heavens.
The empire reacted immediately. Soldiers were dispatched, followed by scholars and priests. When they arrived, they found the crystal embedded in the earth, enormous and translucent. Within it, currents of light swirled slowly, as though something inside was breathing.
Rumors spread quickly. Some called it a divine gift. Others whispered that it was a curse.
Then the man came.
He was not from the empire. His clothes were unfamiliar, his gaze unwavering. He crossed the guarded perimeter without resistance, as though the soldiers themselves were uncertain whether they had the right to stop him. There was something unsettling in his silence.
He stepped forward and placed his hand upon the crystal.
Before anything else could happen, a command rang out.
The empire did not tolerate unknown variables.
Warriors surged forward. Blades pierced his body again and again before he could utter a single word. He collapsed at the crystal's base, his blood soaking into the soil illuminated by its blue glow.
His death did not prevent what followed.
It triggered it.
In the days that came after, anomalies began to appear.
A child woke to find his shadow moving independently of his body. A woman walked across the surface of a lake without sinking. Entire sections of forest grew uncontrollably, swallowing villages in a matter of weeks. In the skies above, unidentified objects hovered silently, vanishing whenever observers attempted to track them.
Then the entities emerged.
Their forms defied classification. Limbs arranged without symmetry. Multiple eyes embedded in shifting flesh. Some attacked. Others simply watched, their presence heavy and suffocating. Regions of land warped into impossible landscapes: frozen plains under summer suns, lakes reflecting places that did not exist.
Superhuman entities with the ability to fly; creatures that absorb oxygen and convert it into other gases. And more and more and more
All of it traced back to the crystal.
The empire attempted to control it. Fortresses were built around the impact site. Experiments were conducted. Guards stood watch day and night.
But power of that magnitude was not something to be contained.
And then, without warning, the crystal disappeared.
It did not shatter. It did not explode.
It simply ceased to exist.
The entities, however, did not vanish. They remained. Over time, they rooted themselves into the fabric of the world. Civilizations rose and fell, including the empire itself, but the anomalies endured.
The world forgot the origin.
The origin did not forget the world.
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After thousands of years -
Mold was not thinking about ancient catastrophes when he entered the forest.
fifteen years old, a small backpack slung over his shoulder and a cheap camera in hand, he walked with measured curiosity. He was not reckless, but fear was not something that ruled him easily. When it came, it came quietly, never paralyzing.
The forest he had chosen was rumored to be unstable. Minor distortions had been recorded there before. Nothing catastrophic. Just enough to attract someone curious.
The trees were taller than they should have been. Their trunks twisted unnaturally, as though they had grown while resisting invisible pressure. The air felt dense, humid, almost heavy against the skin.
His phone had lost signal an hour ago. He had expected that.
He paused before a tree whose bark looked melted, frozen mid-wave like solidified liquid. He pressed his fingers against it. A faint cold sensation crept into his fingertips, then faded.
"Strange," he muttered.
A shadow shifted between the trees.
He noticed.
He did not run. He simply narrowed his gaze toward the movement. Seconds passed. Silence returned.
He raised his camera to take a photograph.
The screen went black.
He frowned and pressed the buttons again. Nothing.
He never heard the step behind him.
The blow struck hard at the back of his head. He saw nothing, heard nothing preceding it. Pain flared sharply through his skull—
Then darkness.
---
When he woke, he did not scream.
Cold ground pressed against his palms as he pushed himself upright. His head throbbed, vision slightly blurred.
Then he saw them.
Bodies.
Scattered in a wide circle around him. Dozens. Human. Motionless. Eyes open and unseeing. Clothing torn, but no visible wounds. No blood pooling beneath them.
And no smell.
That was wrong.
There should have been decay.
Mold rose slowly to his feet. His breathing quickened slightly, but his posture remained steady. He crouched near one of the bodies without touching it. Pale skin. Completely still.
He stepped back.
Then he noticed his hands.
They were black.
Not natural pigmentation. Not shadow. A deep, consuming black that seemed to absorb the surrounding light. He flexed his fingers, watching the skin move normally.
He raised a hand to his face, feeling unfamiliar contours beneath his fingertips.
Scanning the area, he spotted a piece of polished metal attached to one of the corpses. He retrieved it carefully and lifted it to eye level.
The reflection froze him.
His facial features were tinted a pale, unnatural blue. Cold. Subtle, yet unmistakable. His eyes appeared darker, sharper. It was him.
Mold: ...Sh/it
Then he felt it.
A pulse in his chest. Not his heartbeat. Something else. Energy coursing through his veins, cold yet powerful, like a dormant current suddenly awakened.
In the distance, between the trees, something moved.
This time it was not imagination.
A figure stood partially concealed in shadow, watching him.
Mold straightened fully, meeting the direction of the gaze without hesitation.
Fear did not seize him.
But understanding settled heavily in his mind.
What began thousands of years ago had never truly ended.
And somehow—
It had chosen him..