It was a wasteland of broken mountains and scorched earth, carved and blackened by the sins of war. The silence before the strike was deafening. Countless bodies lay scattered across the torn terrain while two warriors stood at the center of it all.
One was surrounded by a chaotic storm, his aura dark and wild, lightning crackling around him. His eyes flickered like shattered stars—each spark a fragment of the storm raging inside him. Opposite of him stood a fiery warrior, his entire form wreathed in burning embers. The ground beneath him steamed and cracked with every step. The air between them shimmered with heat and fury.
When they clashed, the skies split. Thunder echoed like the roar of gods. Even the underworld shuddered. Their blows tore through the fabric of existence.
(Present Time)
"Hey, Malaime! Why isn't this crappy TV working?!" the man of the house barked.
"Y-Yeah, I'm coming," the wife stammered.
"Woof! Woof!" the dog barked loudly.
"Glemt! Zylus! Come get your damn stray dog! He's starting to piss me off. All he does is sleep, bark, and stink up the house!"
"I-I'm sorry, Father!" Glemt shouted nervously.
Zylus stared at the floor, thoughts simmering. Why is he always yelling? Always angry? I've never seen this monster smile.
"I told you two to take care of that mutt," the father growled.
"Y-Yeah, sorry Dad, that's on u—"
"Well, he is a dog. That's kinda what they do," Zylus muttered under his breath.
"What did you just say?" the father snapped, rising from the couch and glaring.
Malaime quickly stepped in. "Oh, Zylus, why don't you go take Lucky for a walk? Get some fresh air. Glemt, go do something in your room."
Zylus didn't say a word. Just nodded. Once again, punished for something that wasn't even me. No surprise. I was never loved. Not from the start. Maybe it's because I'm useless. Or maybe… maybe he's just broken.
He tied his shoes, buttoned his shirt, ran a hand through his long spiky hair, and clipped on his lenses. Lucky barked again and wagged his tail.
As always, Zylus walked a quiet, familiar path alone. The dust clung to his boots, the wind whispered against his skin, but his thoughts remained as untouchable as the distant horizon. Each step was a rhythmic echo, a reminder of the solitude that had both shaped and broken him. The world around him, with its whispering trees and soft murmurs of wildlife, seemed to hold its breath, as if even nature itself recognized the weight he carried. Zylus wasn't a stranger to silence, It was his escape.
There were sparks—faint flashes of light in the distance. And sounds. Booming, clashing. A familiar vibration in the air. Zylus paused, his senses sharpening. The stillness of the forest seemed to bend, reacting to the thunderous cracks that echoed through the trees. It wasn't just the wind this time. Something was coming.
Curious, Zylus followed, Lucky sniffing ahead, his small form darting between the underbrush. They pushed through leaves and branches, deeper into the unknown, the sounds of battle growing louder with each passing second. The air was thick with the scent of earth and tension, the vibrations of distant clashes pulsing like an unseen heartbeat beneath the forest floor. Something was off—Zylus could feel it in his bones, like a storm gathering on the edge of his mind, waiting to break.
Then—snap—a branch broke loose, flying toward him with vicious speed, its jagged edges gleaming like a weapon in the dim light. Zylus had barely a moment to react. His muscles tensed, preparing to dodge or deflect, but before he could move, the branch stopped midair.
It just... hovered.
Then Zylus seen it, two warriors fighting furiously before him, each blow a blur. But before he could process it, a figure stepped between them—a robed, hooded figure, calm in the chaos.
This figure walked directly toward Zylus.
"Where are you off to, little one?" Asked in a soft, whispery voice. The strange figure said to Zylus as his eyes lit up.
Everything stopped. Literally. The battle froze. The wind stopped. Even Lucky seemed trapped in time. Only Zylus and the woman could move.
"U-Um, I-I…" he stammered.
"I'll lower the intensity of this reality," she said gently, pulling back her hood.
As the hood fell away, Zylus caught his first glimpse of her face—sharp features framed by silver hair, eyes gleaming with an otherworldly depth that seemed to pull at the very fabric of the forest around them. For a moment, the world held its breath. Even the wind seemed to pause, the tension between them hanging in the air like a charged storm cloud.
She wasn't like anyone he'd encountered before. There was something ancient about her, something that resonated with a power Zylus couldn't quite comprehend. Her presence was both soothing and unsettling, like the calm before a tempest.
"You're... a woman?" he asked, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them.
She raised an eyebrow, her gaze unfazed. "Yes. Is that a problem?"
Zylus hesitated, but the words of his father echoed in his mind—harsh, suffocating words that had shaped him into the person he was, for better or worse. "My father always said women have no use in this world."
Her smile was soft but knowing, as if she had already anticipated this. "Only you can decide someone's worth. We're all placed here for a reason."
Zylus was silent for a moment, the weight of her response settling over him. He had always carried the bitter sting of those words, had never questioned them, had never thought to challenge them. But here she was, standing before him—someone who defied every belief he'd been raised with.
He pushed the thought aside, focusing on the mystery before him. His mind needed answers, not distractions.
"How did you stop time?" Zylus asked, his voice steady, though his mind raced. "That power... it was like nothing I've ever seen."
She chuckled softly, the sound low and almost musical. "That's not for you to understand yet. Only protectors need to know."
Zylus's brow furrowed in confusion. "Protectors?"
But before he could press further, the questions from moments before resurfaced. "What was that flying at me? And who were those guys fighting?"
The forest around them seemed to hold its breath again, the tension in the air palpable. She looked at him for a moment, her expression unreadable, then sighed as if she had hoped he would understand by now.
"You mean..." She raised a finger, almost playfully, her voice now carrying a trace of amusement. "You don't know how to access your Amora?"
Zylus blinked, the unfamiliar word crashing over him like a wave. "My... what?"
She studied him with an intensity that made Zylus feel both seen and naked. Her gaze seemed to pierce through him, weighing him, as if she were trying to decide whether to tell him more or let him stumble through the dark on his own.
"Your Amora," she repeated, her voice gentler now, "the power that lies within you. The very essence of your being. You do know, don't you? Deep down, you must feel it. The pull of it, the way it's been calling to you... ever since you stepped onto this path."
Zylus took a step back, a cold shiver running down his spine. He had always known there was something different about him. A quiet power, a strange sensation that had lingered in the background of his thoughts, as though it had always been just out of reach.
But Amora? That was a name, a concept he had never even heard before.
"Amora. It's the essence of who we are. Our power comes from the love poured into us—especially from our families. That love decides your element. Calming love leads to water. Aggressive love? Fire. There are more... but you'll learn those if you reach the Academy."
"Academy?!" Zylus' eyes widened.
"Yes. But for now, my time is up. I'll see you—if you make it to Amora Academy."
"Wait! What if I have no lo—"
She vanished. Just like that. Time resumed. The battle was gone. The warriors stood at peace.
Zylus stood frozen in place, heart pounding. This is the first time I've ever felt... something. A purpose.
The invisible barrier around his life—the one keeping him within a 1 km radius—felt like it was beginning to crack.
And for the first time ever, Zylus had a goal.
He wanted to understand Amora.