Chapter 1: The Spark of Creation
The night in Nova Aurora pulses with life, even in the early hours. The hillside streets vibrate with the distant echo of a funk party, mixed with the hum of surveillance drones and the hiss of solar-powered streetlights.
Alex, 17, walks down the hill slowly, his LED sneakers flashing with each step. He'd spent the last few hours with friends, chatting in a graffiti-covered alley about music, tech, and rumors of Eclipse attacks. Smooth jazz plays through his headphones, but Alex keeps his guard up. The hill, with its narrow alleys and colorful houses, always makes him feel alive, like every corner hides a story.
It's almost two in the morning. The air is warm, carrying a faint scent of salt from Guanabara Bay. Alex adjusts his black jacket, the hood partly covering his face. He likes walking at night; it's when he thinks best—imagining drones like the ones in his notebooks, or futuristic masks that never leave the page.
Suddenly, a crash cuts through the silence. The ground trembled, and a wave of dust rose from the top of the hill. Bright blue lights flashed across the sky for a second, then vanished.
"What the heck was that?" Alex murmurs, pulling out his earbuds.
Maybe it's a fallen Eidon—a hero from Aurora Prime, wounded after a fight with Radisos. He's seen those battle clips before: R taking on villains, debris flying. Without hesitation, Alex runs toward the light, climbing the hill with ease, dodging cans and abandoned bikes. His heart pounds—not with fear, but curiosity.
If it's a hero, maybe I can help, he thinks, even if he has no idea how.
At the top, Alex stops, breathless. In front of him, embedded in the ground, is a ship. About thirty meters long, it's made of silver metal pulsing with glowing blue lines. It doesn't look like any drone or transport from the news—it's elegant, with almost organic curves. A ramp is open, smoke pouring from inside. The scent of burnt metal fills the air.
Alex steps closer, cautiously.
"Hello? Anyone there?" he calls out, his voice echoing.
A low groan comes from the ramp. He rushes up, expecting to find a wounded Eidon. But what he sees makes him freeze.
Lying on the ship's floor, surrounded by glowing panels and flickering holograms, is a man. Or something close. He's tall, with pale skin that shimmers as if stars glowed beneath the surface. His eyes are large, a deep blue, and white hair falls over his face. He wears light, cracked armor and a torn cape. Blue blood leaks from a wound in his chest.
"You… human…" the stranger says, his voice weak but clear, with an alien accent. He tries to stand but collapses to his knees.
"Whoa, easy, you're hurt!" Alex rushes over, unsure what to do. "I… I can call for help. Aurora Prime, maybe?"
The alien shakes his head, eyes locked on Alex.
"No time. Listen… I am Zha'vren, King of the Creators. My race… is in danger." He coughs, blue blood staining the floor. "The Star Coalition… they want our powers. The gift of Creation… to control the worlds."
Alex blinks, stunned.
"Coalition? Creators? Dude, what are you even talking about?"
He glances at the holograms—warships, distant planets, hooded figures with strange weapons.
Zha'vren grabs Alex's arm, his grip stronger than expected.
"The Creators… we shape reality. We craft life, technology… but the Coalition hunts us. Our world, Vyrnath, is hidden—safe, for now. I came seeking allies. But they found me first." He breathes with difficulty, his eyes glowing with urgency. "You, human… your mind is bright. I see it. You must carry our legacy."
Before Alex can protest, Zha'vren places a hand on his chest. A warm, almost blinding light surrounds them both. Alex feels energy surge through his body—it burns, but feels… right. Images flood his mind: stars being born, machines coming to life, a vibrant planet with floating cities.
He cries out, falling to his knees.
"Go… to Vyrnath…" Zha'vren whispers, voice fading. "The Creators need you… the ship… knows the way. Protect… our people…"
With a final breath, the king collapses, his eyes dimming.
Alex stays frozen, heart pounding, mind spinning. He feels something new inside him, a spark begging to be unleashed.
Before he can process it, a voice echoes in the ship, cold and sarcastic:
"Well, that was dramatic. I guess you're the new boss now, human."
Alex turns, searching for the source. A hologram appears: a floating sphere with digital eyes and a smug, pixelated smile.
"Who… what are you?" Alex asks, trembling.
"I'm Muss, the ship's AI. Pleased to meet you, heir to the throne. Or should I say: clueless kid with no idea what just happened?" The sphere flickers, clearly amused. "Zha'vren passed on the power of the Creators. Congratulations—you're now enemy number one of the Star Coalition. Want a quick summary, or would you rather panic first?"
Alex swallows, glancing from Zha'vren's body to the holograms showing Coalition ships closing in on Earth.
"Summary. Fast."
Muss spins midair, digital eyes glowing.
"Alright. The Creators are a race that makes stuff from nothing—weapons, worlds, life. The Star Coalition, a big nasty galactic empire, wants that power to rule everything. The Creators are still alive, hiding on Vyrnath, but they needed their king—Zha'vren. He came looking for help, got ambushed, crashed here, and passed his power to you. This ship"—Muss pauses, sounding smug—"can take you to Vyrnath. There, you'll train, learn your abilities, and help defend the Creators from extinction."
Alex runs a hand through his hair, panic swirling with something else—excitement.
"And if I don't want to? What if I just… go home?"
Muss laughs, metallic and echoing.
"Good luck with that. The Coalition has already locked onto the ship. They'll find you—with or without powers. So… what's it gonna be, kid? Stay here and get vaporized? Or hop aboard and learn to be a Creator?"
Alex looks at the ramp, then the dark hillside below. He thinks of Raphael, of school, of his normal life. But that spark Zha'vren left inside him pulls him forward. He takes one step, then another, entering the ship.
"Alright… take me to Vyrnath. But if I die, I'm haunting you, Muss."
"Charming. Now buckle up—takeoff's gonna be… interesting." Muss vanishes, and the ship rumbles, engines roaring.
As it rises, slicing through Rio's sky, Alex feels the weight of what's coming. He's no longer just a kid from Nova Aurora.
He's a Creator. And the Creators on Vyrnath are waiting.