The Night of the Red Omen
The night Kairo was born, the sky turned red.
Not the soft red of sunset, but something darker. Something's wrong.
The wind howled across the city of Ardent Vale, shaking windows and rattling doors. People stayed inside their homes, their lights turned off early. No one wanted to be seen. No one wanted attention.
Because tonight, the Iron Order was watching.
Inside a small, hidden house near the edge of the city, a woman cried out in pain.
"Hold on," her husband whispered, gripping her hand tightly. His voice shook despite his effort to stay calm. "You're strong. You can do this."
Her breathing was uneven. Sweat ran down her pale face. She wasn't just afraid of the pain.
She was afraid of what would happen after.
A faint glow flickered across the room.
Then—
A cry.
A baby's cry filled the air.
The woman's eyes filled with tears as the child was placed in her arms. He was small.
Fragile. Innocent.
Their son.
"He's here…" she whispered.
Her husband stepped closer, his face filled with both relief and fear.
Then he saw it.
On the baby's chest, faint but clear, was a mark. Thin red lines forming a strange symbol. It glowed softly, like burning embers under skin.
His face turned pale.
"No…" he whispered.
His wife saw it too. Her hands trembled.
"The prophecy…" she said weakly.
They both knew what it meant.
Far away, deep within the city, a massive black tower stood above all others. This was the headquarters of the Iron Order.
Inside, a man stood before a glowing screen. His uniform was black, lined with silver markings. His eyes were cold.
A soldier rushed into the room.
"Commander," the soldier said, bowing his head. "We've detected it."
The commander didn't move.
"Location?"
"Outer sector. Residential zone seven."
Silence filled the room.
The commander turned slowly. "Prepare a unit," he said calmly. "Eliminate the child."
The soldier hesitated for a moment. Even after years of service, the order still carried weight.
"Yes, Commander."
This was the Iron Order. They ruled the city. They controlled its people. And they feared only one thing.
The crimson mark.
Long ago, a prophecy had been discovered. It spoke of a child born under a red sky, marked with power beyond control. A child who would destroy the Order.
So they made a decision.
Every child born on that date would be hunted. No mercy. No exceptions.
Even if it meant killing infants.
Back in the small house, the baby rested quietly in his mother's arms.
She looked at him, tears falling freely. "He's innocent," she whispered. "He didn't choose this."
Her husband walked to the window and looked outside.
In the distance, he saw them.
Black vehicles.
Moving fast.
"They're here."
Her heart stopped. "No…"
He turned to her, his face filled with pain. "We don't have much time."
Heavy footsteps echoed outside. Metal boots against stone.
The Iron Order had come.
The door exploded inward.
Soldiers flooded inside, their weapons raised.
"Step away from the child," one of them ordered.
Her husband stepped forward, placing himself between them and the baby.
"No."
The soldiers didn't hesitate.
Energy blasts filled the room.
He fought back, his power flaring to life. Light clashed with steel. The walls cracked under the force.
But there were too many.
He fell to his knees. His wife screamed. He looked at her one last time.
"Run."
She didn't hesitate. She ran through the back door, clutching the baby tightly. Behind her, she heard the final blast. She didn't look back. She ran through the forest, her breathing uneven, her legs weak.
She reached the river. The baby cried softly. She held him close.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I can't protect you."
Her hands glowed faintly as she placed a seal on his chest. The mark dimmed, fading from sight. She wrapped him in cloth and placed him gently into a small wooden basket.
"Live," she whispered. Tears fell onto his face.
"Please… live."
She pushed the basket into the river. The current carried him away. Behind her, the soldiers emerged from the trees.
She stood up slowly. She didn't run. She knew it was over.
But her son wasn't.
Far down the river, the basket drifted through the darkness.
Until—
A hand reached out and caught it. An old man stood at the riverbank, his sharp eyes staring down at the child. He saw the faint glow beneath the seal.
He understood.
"The crimson mark…" he whispered.
He looked toward the distant city. Then back at the child. "…so you survived."
The old man lifted the baby into his arms. And disappeared into the night.
The Iron Order believed the child was dead.
They were wrong.