WEEEOOO WEEEOOO—The blaring of the alarm shattered the uneasy silence like a sledgehammer. Red lights pulsed along the walls of the Hall of M, and emergency glyphs lit up in eerie patterns—magical and mechanical panic in perfect harmony.
Professor M shot up from his bed, nearly knocking over the tray of soup beside him. "Oh come on, I just re-attached my spine!"
Barry, still bruised and bandaged, snarled as he rolled off the medbed, limping. "If this is another Kitsune rave, I swear I'm burning this damn Hall down!"
Seraphina, groaning with her head wrapped in silver bandages, sat up and muttered, "I'm 99% broken bones and 1% sass. Guess which part's awake right now?"
Kevin, face still singed from Daji's last 'mocking fireball', flailed trying to put his boots on the wrong feet. "Why is everything spinning?! Is this a drill?! If it's a drill, I'm suing."
Kai blinked out of bed—and reappeared upside-down stuck in a wall. "This isn't fair! I was dreaming I beat Nurarihyon with a tuna sandwich!"
And last to rise—Veymar. The supreme sorcerer cracked one bleary eye open, pillow glued to his head, then groaned like a cursed golem. "...now what?"
He didn't move. Just stared at the ceiling like it personally offended him. "If this is another world-ending crisis, someone please assassinate me quietly."
Silas, already limping toward the nearest console, barked, "Shut up, Gramps, you're still the only one with enough juice to lecture a reality-bending spirit overlord while half-asleep!"
"Exactly. Which means I earned five more minutes. Wake me up when someone explodes."
As the room scrambled in semi-hysterical chaos—bruised, bandaged, and badly grumpy—the Hall of M's emergency broadcast finally flickered onto the screen: "PORTAL DISTURBANCE DETECTED – CATEGORY: UNKNOWN – ORIGIN: SERABAUN."
"...Wait, Serabaun? That the fishing place with ghost noodles?"
"No... that's the place where Nurarihyon left a breadcrumb trail."
Veymar sighed again. "Fine. Give me pants, painkillers, and a reason not to just let the world end."
Before anyone could so much as reach for their weapons—or pain meds—the Holo-Screens flickered to life again, cutting through the alarm like an even worse headache. The Hall of M's central projector pinged a priority feed labeled: "Live Emergency Coverage – VARKATH NOW – Channel 6 Isle Watcher."
The feed stabilized, revealing a slightly disheveled yet determined reporter. Celene Marrowind, a local Varkath journalist known for her unshakable tone, side braid, and bold fashion choices—tonight, it was a glowing sapphire cloak over pajamas. The background behind her shimmered with fog, rain, and panic. "We interrupt normal broadcasting with breaking news across Varkath Isle. Residents from Stonehook to Deeprest Hollow have reported the sudden appearance of monolithic, obsidian-like structures—towering over 200 feet, with pulsating runes and humming frequencies detected by nearby magical radars. As of this hour, eleven structures have manifested across the island… with no clear source, and no known explanation.
Cut to shaky footage of the black towers—jagged and impossibly tall—jutting up from ocean cliffs, wheat fields, and even someone's backyard chicken farm. Lightning arced around them like nature itself was confused. "Some eyewitnesses claim to hear whispers near the monoliths, and others report disappearing livestock, vanishing shadows, and—yes, I quote—'a face blinking at me from the stone, asking if I had snacks.' We advise all Varkath citizens to remain indoors and, I repeat, do not approach the monoliths."
Silas raising an eyebrow. "…So, first, we get dismembered by seductive fox demons…"
Kevin deadpan. "…Then haunted by ghost spaghettis in a fishing town…"
Barry groaning as he lies back down. "…And now, magic space towers with snack cravings?"
Kai still stuck halfway in a wall. "WHO is out there making these decisions?!"
Seraphina cross her arms. "Okay but real talk—if that tower makes a sound like 'beep boop doom', I'm transferring to culinary school."
Veymar dragging his blanket over his head. "…Wake me up when Varkath turns into a dancing tree. At least then we can pretend it's a party."
Professor M just stared at the screen, rubbing his temples like he was trying to massage the apocalypse out of his skull.
Then, door to the medic room slid open with a hiss—and in strode a ragtag crew of younger mutants, each of them visibly winded from running across the Hall of M's many twisting corridors.
Rick, always walking like he had somewhere better to be, spoke first. The glow from his diamond-veined arms pulsed faintly with tension. "Professor, we saw the news. You guys need to see this—something's going on in Varkath."
Hana, practically vibrating with nervous energy, added, "They're calling them monoliths but they're moving. Some kind of sound frequency is being emitted from them—we picked it up in the West Wing's echo chamber."
Gregor ducked slightly to fit through the doorframe, rumbling, "One appeared in my hometown. It sank half the orchard. My mom threw a rake at it."
Vera, flipping her long silver hair out of her eyes, pulled up a small projection from her wrist console, showing satellite readings. "Whatever it is, the towers are made of something not from Edenia. We've never seen this alloy composition before."
Elias, quietly lurking at the back with his eerie green gaze, simply whispered, "It's not from here. And it wants us to know it."
Raven, wings rustling softly as she perched herself on the foot of a bed, stared at the Holo-Screen and muttered, "...Looks like death is trending again."
Solus, stepping forward while a soft portal shimmer closed behind him, tilted his head. "We should be moving, right? Isn't this the part where we do something heroic?"
Serene, with a cold calmness, checked her hourglass pendant and frowned. "Time feels strange near the towers. Like… it stutters. That's never a good sign."
The veterans stared at them like war-hardened retirees being told by fresh interns that the fax machine caught fire.
Silas, still lying half-naked under a healing IV, raised one brow and gestured lazily at the glowing Holo-Screen on the wall. "Yeah, yeah. We saw it, sparkle squad. Try getting crushed by ghost foxes first, then come report 'breaking news.'"
Barry, covered in bandages, pointed at his arm and muttered, "My left bone is gone. Gone. It left a note and everything."
Kai, coughing into a pillow, grinned at the new arrivals. "Welcome to the club. Membership includes sarcasm, trauma, and probable doom."
Professor M, sitting upright now, just sighed, "Alright, everyone. We need to regroup, plan, and—please—not panic. Veymar, tell them what you know about the monoliths."
From under a blanket, Veymar gave a muffled reply. "…If I say 'they're probably cursed', can I go back to sleep?"
Hana blinked. "…Is this what being a veteran looks like?"
Raven chuckles dryly. "Yup. And no refunds."
As the bickering reached its peak—Silas mid-sarcastic quip, Barry arguing with a nurse about bone reconstruction, and Veymar dramatically groaning into his pillow—the Holo-Screen flickered with a sudden blare of red-highlighted urgency of another channel.
"BREAKING UPDATE: VARKATH MONOLITH PHENOMENON ESCALATES" read the headline from IslaPulse 9, Varkath's trusted local news.
The presenter, a sweat-beaded man named Taro Hin, visibly shaken and gripping his mic too tight, spoke over live drone footage. "We are now receiving visual confirmation that the monoliths across the Varkath Isle are not only emitting energy, but converging it. What you're about to see is... unlike anything in recorded history—"
The broadcast cut to a live aerial view. The once-silent, tower-like monoliths had begun to glow, beams of pure light erupting from their tips, lancing into the sky like ritual spears piercing the heavens. One by one, they fired upward—pale gold, cold white, violet blue—until all beams aligned at impossible angles, drawing glowing lines in the sky like celestial circuitry.
A hum began, low and ancient, thrumming through the audio feed like a warning in the bones. Then—The sky cracked. From the very center where the beams converged, a rift tore open in the clouds—no, in reality—and the world paused. From within it descended the dragon.
Long as a mountain range, its form unfurled in slow majesty—not winged like its cousins, but serpentine, its body winding and twirling through the air with terrifying grace. Scales of jet black shimmered like obsidian ink, trimmed in glinting gold veins that pulsed like lava under skin. Its body coiled through the sky like a ribbon of storm, adorned with ancient symbols glowing dimly beneath each scale.
Antler-like horns crowned its elongated head, and its mane, a flowing river of smoke and stars, trailed behind like storm clouds in mourning. It had four limbs, each ending in clawed talons sharp enough to split stone, and whiskers like flowing blades danced around its mouth. Eyes, red as blood moons, scanned the land below—not frantically, but with imperial judgment.
On screen, people fled in terror across Varkath. Buildings trembled from the sheer force of the beast's arrival. Trees leaned toward it. Birds dropped from the sky. The camera feed glitched, crackled, and wavered before Taro Hin's voice returned, cracking with fear. "…The entity has no wings. Yet it flies. It casts no shadow. Yet the island darkens beneath it. This is not a creature—it is a calamity."
Back in the Hall of M, nobody spoke. Barry, bleeding slightly from his reopened wounds, stared. "...You guys remember when we were just worried about Kitsunes?"
Silas, wide-eyed, whispered. "…Did someone order 'final boss' and forget to cancel it?"
Veymar, sitting upright now, actually awake, muttered. "I think I know that thing. Its name was whispered in the old texts."
Professor M, voice low. "What name?"
Veymar's voice dropped into a somber, almost reverent tone. The usual sarcasm gone from his face as he kept his eyes fixed on the Holo-Screen. His tangled silver hair hung like a curtain over his eyes, but his voice—low and steady—cut through the silence of the infirmary. "That's not just any dragon. That's Ao Shun, the Black Dragon. One of the Four Celestial Pillars."
Everyone turned toward him. Even Silas shut up.
"The others are Ryujin, the Azure Tide—Blue Dragon of the East. Baihu Long, the White Flame—White Dragon of the South. And Vermirion, the Crimson Gale—Red Dragon of the West."
He paused, letting the names sink in like ancient spells cast in a modern age. "Together, they were said to be the embodiment of the seasons... and the balance of elemental forces. Ryujin ruled the spring rains and oceans. Baihu Long brought summer warmth and light. Vermirion danced in the autumn winds and harvests."
Then his voice dropped further, becoming almost a whisper. "But Ao Shun... Ao Shun is Winter incarnate. Not just the season. The ending. The stillness. The silence after death. The last breath before frost takes the lungs."
A chill ran down the room's spine. Even Raven tucked her wings tighter around herself.
"While the others were worshipped, revered, honored in temples and songs… Ao Shun was feared. Always distant. Always watching. It is said he never took worship, only silence. The world prayed he would never awaken."
He lifted his head now, eyes darker than usual. "And yet here we are. He's awake. He's moving. And Varkath is where he landed."
Barry, flatly cut in. "Well that's great. Can't wait to fight a cosmic frost noodle with a pulled ribcage."
Silas, muttering. "First ghost noodles, now this. I swear, Tanasma needs a refund policy on mythological threats."
Kai frowned. "...You think Nurarihyon's connected to this?"
Professor M: "If he isn't… then we're fighting on two fronts."