The city shimmered beneath the golden glow of streetlights, humming with the gentle rhythm of a peaceful evening. High above, the sky stretched out like a black canvas scattered with stars, while below, life pulsed with quiet joy. Laughter, music, and the occasional sound of traffic painted a serene urban symphony.
In the heart of this momentary peace, a family of five walked hand in hand toward a grand theater. Their silhouettes moved under the warm lights—five figures bound together by love, unaware that time was running out.
At the front was a tall man with gentle eyes and a calming presence, his broad shoulders steady and sure. His smile held wisdom, the kind built through years of trials and joys. Walking beside him was his wife—elegant, poised, with a softness in her eyes that could melt even the hardest hearts. Her arm was loosely hooked around his, her laughter ringing like silver bells in the night.
Trailing behind them were three children, each glowing with youth and curiosity.
"Azrael, Veyron, don't run too far ahead!" the father called out, his voice warm but firm.
"I'll keep an eye on Veyron, Dad," replied the older boy, Azrael, age ten. His black hair was neatly combed, his thoughtful brown eyes already heavy with a maturity that seemed far beyond his years.
"I don't need a babysitter!" Veyron, age eight, snapped, sticking out his tongue. His untamed, messy hair bounced with every step, and his piercing gaze radiated a fire that refused to be tamed. Even at eight, Veyron had the look of someone who would fight fate itself if it tried to cage him.
Behind them, the youngest—Elara, just four—clutched her mother's hand tightly. Her small steps quickened to keep up, and her eyes sparkled with innocent wonder as she looked up at the glowing building ahead.
"Mom, what's the movie about?" she asked, her voice soft and sweet.
Her mother smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair from the girl's forehead. "It's a surprise, little star."
The theater stood like a palace of dreams, its lights gleaming, its glass doors reflecting a world full of possibilities. Crowds of people buzzed with excitement, their chatter rising like a song of shared anticipation.
Inside, the family found their seats in the middle of the auditorium. The scent of buttery popcorn filled the air, and on the giant screen ahead, trailers began to play, teasing the night's entertainment.
Azrael leaned over and nudged his younger brother. "Come on. Let's grab something to eat before it starts."
"Fine," Veyron grumbled, crossing his arms before standing up. "But I'm getting extra popcorn!"
Their bickering trailed off into the aisle as the two boys headed toward the lobby. A moment later, Elara, with a mischievous giggle, slipped off her seat and followed them.
The lights dimmed.
The theater fell into a hush.
Then—
BOOM.
A deafening explosion tore through the auditorium.
The shockwave sent bodies flying. Seats were flung aside like toys. Glass shattered. Marble cracked. Fire erupted. And then—screams. Piercing, frantic, human screams.
Azrael felt himself lifted, then slammed against the floor. Dust filled his lungs. The world spun.
"W-What…?" he gasped, coughing. His ears rang. Blood dripped from his forehead.
"MOM!! DAD!! ELARA!!" Veyron's scream cut through the chaos. He scrambled to his feet, tears streaking down his cheeks.
A second explosion rumbled through the ground.
Smoke and dust clouded the air as masked figures appeared, moving through the wreckage like phantoms—faces hidden, rifles raised.
One of them barked, "Kill them all. No witnesses."
Gunfire.
RATATATAT.
Bullets tore through the smoke. People fell. Blood painted the seats. The auditorium had become a warzone.
Azrael's instincts kicked in. He yanked Veyron behind the overturned snack counter, pulling him down hard.
"Stay down!" he hissed, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum.
"I have to save them!" Veyron shouted, pushing against Azrael's grip—but his small hands trembled. The fear in his eyes betrayed him.
Azrael peered over the counter.
Where their parents had sat—there was nothing left. Just a crater of burning seats, crushed bodies, and shattered glass.
"Elara…" Azrael's eyes darted. Where had she gone?
The spot she had vacated—just minutes earlier—was crushed beneath a fallen beam. But she wasn't there.
Maybe she got out. Please… let her be safe.
"MOM!!! DAD!!! ELARAAAAAA!!!" Veyron screamed again, his voice raw with anguish.
Then, something strange happened.
A faint golden aura pulsed from both boys.
Time seemed to slow.
The world around them warped, as if reality itself trembled in fear. The air shimmered, crackling with energy—wild, ancient, and raw.
Power surged through their veins.
Azrael's eyes widened. Veyron's hair fluttered with static. Neither of them understood what was happening.
But before they could react—
CRACK.
A rifle butt slammed into Azrael's temple.
Another struck Veyron's back.
Everything went black.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The hospital ceiling was pale, sterile, and unfamiliar.
Azrael's eyes fluttered open, pain shooting through his head. He tried to sit up, but his arms were wrapped in gauze. He blinked, disoriented.
Across from him, Veyron sat up suddenly, panic written across his face.
"Elara! Where's Elara?!"
The door creaked open. A man entered, dressed in plain clothes—no uniform, but his posture screamed authority. His eyes held sorrow.
"I see you're awake," he said softly.
The boys stared at him, silent.
"I'm sorry…" His voice cracked slightly. "Your parents didn't survive."
The silence that followed was heavier than the rubble they had been buried under.
Azrael's breath caught in his throat.
Veyron clenched the sheets.
"You're lying!" he screamed. "They were right there! I saw them! They can't be—!"
"I wish I were lying," the man said, eyes lowered. "We found you both unconscious near the lobby. You're lucky to be alive."
Azrael forced himself to speak. "And… Elara?"
"She's safe," the man said gently. "She slipped out of her seat and ran to the entrance before the blast. One of the guards pulled her out in time."
Relief and grief clashed within Azrael. He closed his eyes, letting the tears fall.
"She's okay… she's alive…"
Veyron clenched his fists. "I'll kill them. Whoever did this… I'll make them pay."
The man sat beside them, his tone growing serious. "There's something else. Witnesses said they saw… something strange. A burst of golden light… coming from you two. Right before you collapsed."
Azrael looked confused. "Golden light?"
Neither of them remembered anything like that.
Two weeks later.
The city blurred past the car windows as Azrael, Veyron, and Elara sat silently in the backseat. Their eyes were hollow. Grief lingered in every breath.
The man from before sat in the passenger seat, occasionally glancing back at them.
"We're taking you somewhere safe. A home for children like you. It's called Horizon Shelter."
"Safe…?" Veyron muttered under his breath. "There's no such place anymore."
Azrael's voice was flat. "What kind of place?"
"An NGO. You'll get food, education… a new start."
Veyron turned his face to the window. "I don't want a new start."
Elara sat between them, clutching Azrael's sleeve. "Will we ever see them again?" she whispered.
The silence that followed was unbearable.
"…I'm sorry, little one," the man finally said. "They're gone."
Tears welled up in Elara's eyes. Azrael wrapped an arm around her, his voice soft. "We still have each other."
"That's not enough," Veyron muttered, jaw tight.
The car stopped in front of a tall iron gate. Above it, a sign read:
Horizon Shelter for Orphans
A woman stood waiting—kind eyes, gentle smile. She opened the gate as they stepped out, her voice warm.
"Welcome, children. You're safe now."
But as Azrael and Veyron looked around, something stirred deep inside them. A slumbering force. A memory not yet theirs. A destiny they had not chosen.
As the doors closed behind them, a single thought echoed in the still air:
"From that moment, their destiny had already begun to awaken."
To be continued...