The stars hung in silence above a cold, endless void.
Then, something moved.
A streak of blue light surged through the darkness of space. It twisted like a thread of living fire, radiant and determined, pulsing with invisible energy. It wasn't made of matter, nor bound by time. It drifted past dead moons and ancient ruins of forgotten galaxies, drawn by something… destined.
It moved with purpose.
And far ahead, it saw its target: a vast, living world. A planet named Pangea — a world of advanced civilizations, monstrous threats, and evolving power. Its lands brimmed with technology, yet pulsed with raw, ancient energy beneath the surface. Magic and machines coexisted, unaware of what approached from beyond the stars.
The blue light soared toward the world, narrowing like a spear of fate.
"Rescue System Activation Sequence Initiated."
"Target World Selected: Pangea."
"Soul Host Located. Preparing for Integration."
Across the northern continent of Pangea, within a fortified city hidden beneath crystal-blue sky, two powerful beings lay side by side within each other's embrace— a man and a woman, peaceful and content.
Neither knew that in that moment, a visitor from another realm approached.
"Scanning for optimal genetic vessels…"
"Gene strength: High.
Mana affinity: High.
Physical compatibility: Optimal."
"Fusion Pathway: Direct zygote-level bonding. Proceeding."
The blue light pierced the clouds of Pangea like a whisper and descended into the city, unseen and unfelt by the mortals around. It floated through stone walls and glowing machines, slipping silently into the room where the woman slept.
She stirred only slightly in her sleep, her fingers curled over her stomach.
And then, the light entered her.
There was no resistance. No pain. Only a momentary glow — soft and brief, like moonlight passing over water.
"Soul Bound."
"Rescue System Installed."
"Host Memory Status: Fragmented."
"Consciousness Lock: Engaged until post-birth neural stabilization."
Inside the newly formed life — no larger than a dot — something changed.
A soul had entered. Not a new one from the cycle of rebirth. Not a clean slate.
But something older.
Something marked.
Time passed.
×××
A young woman stood in the doorway of a quiet chamber, her hand gently resting over her growing belly. Her face was radiant, despite the unease in her eyes.
Across from her stood a tall man, dressed in a lightweight traveler's coat, fastening the last clasp on his gloves.
"I don't want you to go," she said quietly.
He stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "I wouldn't, if I had a choice. The frontier flared up last night — there was an emergency. I've been summoned."
She looked down, voice trembling. "You know I'm five months now."
"I know." His voice softened. "And I hate leaving you alone."
"You're not leaving me," she whispered, placing his hand on her belly. "You're leaving us."
He knelt, resting his forehead gently against her stomach. "Hey, little one," he murmured with a smile. "You better wait for me. I'll come back before you arrive. That's a promise."
The woman gave a shaky laugh. "He can't hear you yet."
"Then you hear me for him," he said, standing. "You're stronger than I've ever known. He will be too."
They embraced — slow and silent, as if memorizing the moment.
Then, with one last glance, he turned and left into the misted streets.
Months slipped by, marked by gentle cravings, quiet afternoons, and letters from the distant frontier. The mother remained strong, her eyes often drifting to the sky in silent thought. The baby grew steadily.
Strangely, the child did not come when expected.
As the ninth month passed, the midwives began to murmur. A full month beyond the norm, and still the child remained in the womb. But the mother, though growing weary, held faith.
And then… on the tenth month's final night… the skies broke open with a storm.
Lightning danced over the palace spires. Thunder growled like a beast in the clouds. Rain pounded down in thick sheets, blurring the walls of the city. It was a night no one would forget.
And in a quiet chamber surrounded by healers and machines, a soft cry was heard.
He was born.
A boy.
But not like any other.
He had deep, gem-like blue eyes that shimmered even in the dim light, like forgotten oceans locked in crystal. His skin was soft, fair, and warm, with a hint of a healthy glow. Chubby cheeks, tiny fingers, midnight-black hair curled gently above his brows.
He blinked slowly, expression curious and calm. His small hand curled tightly around the midwife's finger — strong and sure.
A ripple of silence passed through the room.
"He's…" the healer began, uncertain.
"Beautiful," the mother finished, breathless, her arms outstretched.
The boy was placed in her embrace.
He didn't cry.
He didn't flinch.
He simply stared up at her with those impossibly blue eyes — unfocused, yet almost aware.
She smiled. Tears gathered in her eyes. "You took your time," she whispered. "But it was worth it. You're perfect. My baby." Her voice trembled with emotion.
"Neural Activation Detected."
"Initial Consciousness Phase: Fuzzy State."
"Welcome, Host: Aarav Agnisar."
"Rescue Protocol: Dormant until directive received."
The system did not speak aloud.
It pulsed quietly within the boy's soul, like a second heartbeat, hidden and waiting.
Aarav's tiny hand twitched.
His vision blurred with the newness of light and sound, but the feeling in his chest — that warmth pressed against him — was safe.
For now.
Outside, the skies rumbled again — but this time, it was not thunder.
In the distance, near the edge of the dome, red lights flickered.
An alarm screamed into the night.
And from the shadows, they came.