Thirty years ago, the world should have ended—or so scientists have said.
A meteor of unimaginable size hurtled toward Earth, its trajectory set for the Sahara Desert. Its sheer mass was enough to spell humanity's doom. The impact would have been catastrophic—apocalyptic, even. Many believed it was the end. The end of humans. The end of the world itself.
There was nothing anyone could do. Governments issued their final warnings. People huddled in despair, awaiting the inevitable. And then… something happened.
The meteor slowed.
No one knows how or why. To this day, the phenomenon remains unexplained. It didn't stop completely, though. The impact came, and with it, devastation: over a hundred million lives lost in an instant. Yet, against all odds, the Earth endured.
Humanity was spared extinction—but the question lingered: what saved us?
Moving on from a question we may never answer, let's discuss the aftermath of the impact—the event that reshaped not just the Sahara but the world itself.
The very geography of the Sahara Desert was transformed, giving rise to what is now known as the Glass Valley. Surrounding the colossal crater were jagged walls of spiky, translucent glass, shimmering like a mirage in the desert heat. The meteor had landed at the nexus of Chad, Niger, Libya, and Algeria, leaving behind a scar nearly 100 kilometers wide. Its height, though impressive, seemed truncated—geologists estimate that nearly half of it remains buried beneath the Earth's surface.
The impact obliterated cities and flattened everything within its reach. Entire populations vanished in an instant. Governments scrambled to clean up the devastation, and within months, the world found fragile stability. The panic subsided, but curiosity burned brighter.
Researchers converged on the meteor, uncovering a strange black outer layer—a material unlike anything seen before. Beneath the cracked shell lay an enigmatic crystal that defied known science. It was named Darkium.
Darkium was a revelation. It started as a crystal but could shift between states—solid metal, liquid metal, and back again. It was nearly unbreakable, absorbing light like a black hole. Its discovery was so groundbreaking that it was added to the periodic table as a new element. The world celebrated this marvel. But then, the meteor revealed something far more sinister.
It began to bleed fog.
Thick, black, suffocating fog seeped from the meteor's core, engulfing its surroundings. The fog absorbed light like the Darkium itself, plunging entire areas into impenetrable darkness. Rumors spread of creatures lurking within, monstrous shapes that preyed on those who ventured too close. Publicly, all research ceased. Official statements were vague, leaving the world to speculate what horrors the government might be hiding.
Yet, science forged ahead in secret. Among the researchers, none was more brilliant—or more daring—than Benjamin Khybernus. He unraveled the mysteries of Darkium, harnessing its properties to pioneer fusion energy. His experimental reactor changed the world, a breakthrough so monumental it earned him a Nobel Prize.
Khybernus didn't stop there. He proposed designs for a self-contained rocket capable of traveling to the moon and back without shedding components—a feat once thought impossible.
His genius reshaped humanity's future, and the United States rewarded him lavishly. A city, Yorksin, was placed under his control and renamed Fusionight City. Khybernus was granted near-absolute authority—a ruler of science and ambition, presiding over a metropolis built on the promises of Darkium and innovation.
But the question lingered, whispered in dark corners of the world: What truly lies within the meteor? And why does the fog still spread?
Years later, the U.S. government took action, deploying a specialized small army of three hundred elite soldiers. Clad in astronaut-like suits designed to shield them from the fog's effects, they ventured into the heart of the Glass Valley.
A full week passed before only a handful of them returned. They were bloodied, battered, and—most disturbingly—older. The men and women who had left as hardened warriors returned as shadows of themselves, their faces lined with premature wrinkles, their eyes haunted by horrors they refused to describe fully.
What little they did share sent shivers down the spines of those who heard it. They spoke of hellish landscapes populated by creatures so grotesque, so otherworldly, that even recalling them caused panic attacks. Nightmares had taken physical form within the fog.
The good news? The creatures couldn't leave. Whatever force bound the fog to the meteor also confined its nightmarish inhabitants.
Speculation ran rampant. Some claimed the creatures were aliens. Others, more superstitious, believed demons had risen from the underworld. Idiots, all of them. The truth was simpler—and far more terrifying.
They were monsters. Plain and simple.
(Not many people, however, believe such creatures exist within the fog.)
But the soldiers brought back more than trauma. They brought back something inexplicable: powers.
Within months, people around the globe began exhibiting extraordinary abilities. Those who gained such powers described the experience as waking from a deep slumber, as though they had been "awakened" to their true selves. At first, the media dubbed them "Supers," but after two years, they were officially classified as the Awakened.
This sudden emergence of superpowered individuals upended society. Governments scrambled to maintain control, dividing the Awakened into two categories:
Heroes: Those who willingly submitted to government oversight, abided by strict laws, and acted as enforcers of order. To many, the term "hero" felt hollow—these were not altruistic champions but tools of the state, loyal to their masters like trained dogs.
Villains: The rebellious Awakened who defied the law, acting on their own desires, often at society's expense.
Unsurprisingly, villains outnumbered heroes. Chaos erupted as cities struggled to contain the rising tide of lawlessness. The solution? A grim compromise.
Enter the Villain Districts—lawless zones designed to corral the chaos. Every major city was required to designate at least one such area, known colloquially as VilZones or VilDistricts. These sprawling rage rooms allowed villains to unleash their powers as they pleased, so long as they stayed within the designated boundaries.
The arrangement was simple: step outside the District and cause havoc, and you'd be apprehended and sent to Limbo.
No one knows where Limbo is or what happens to those imprisoned there. The government remains tight-lipped, and rumors abound. Yet, whatever the truth, one fact remains clear: villains fear it. Even the most brazen hesitate before crossing the line.
As for the powers themselves, they varied wildly, tied to what scientists called Attributes. These were broad categories, some examples would be: Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Light, Dark, Augmentation, or even more esoteric domains like Time and Space. Each Awakened typically had one or two Attributes, but their abilities within those categories could differ dramatically.
For instance, two individuals with the Fire Attribute might manifest it in completely different ways. One might breathe fire like a dragon, while the other could be immune to burns.
Despite the chaos, some Awakened have risen to prominence, reshaping society in both profound and terrifying ways. But with over half a million powered individuals worldwide, the balance hangs by a thread.
And as the fog continues to bleed from the meteor, one question grows louder in the minds of all: What did we awaken?
It's a question we will, most likely, have an answer to in the not-so-distant future.
The black fog, with its suffocating darkness and sinister aura, was given a name: Swart Rook.
Depending on who you ask, it translates to either "black fog" or "black smoke." The ambiguity suits it—an unknowable threat lingering just on the edge of comprehension.
And so, we arrive at the present day: May 30th, 2042.
The world still grapples with the aftermath of that fateful impact three decades ago. A world reshaped by the mysterious meteor, the Awakened, and the ever-creeping Swart Rook. What lies ahead remains shrouded in uncertainty, but one thing is clear—this story is far from over— Nicholas Darklight.
"Yup, that's my essay, teach," said a young man with black hair and striking blue eyes, sitting in his chair, his arms clasped together in what appeared to be a nervous manner. His tone was relaxed in comparison.
His history teacher stared at him, neither amused nor particularly disappointed. "B-," he said flatly, sliding the paper back across the desk.
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "B-? That's it? I thought it was pretty solid for a history paper." He sounded just a bit disappointed at the outcome, yet it seemed as if he expected it.
"It's competent, but clearly rushed," the teacher replied, his monotone voice betraying no emotion. "Now, if you're done defending mediocrity, yes, you may leave."
"Sweet. Thanks, teach! Enjoy your weekend!" Nicholas shot back with a grin, grabbing his bag and heading for the door.
"Enjoy my weekend, huh?" the teacher muttered once Nicholas left, his face sinking into his hands. "It's only two p.m. I've still got six more hours…" He let out a dramatic sigh, trying and failing to shed tears.
Meanwhile, Nicholas practically bounced down the hallway, his mood light. "Finally Friday! Been waiting all week for this," he muttered to himself, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "In less than a month, I'll be done with my first year of high school. Time flies, huh? The sooner I'm outta here, the better."
He was savoring the thought of freedom when an all-too-familiar voice shattered his good mood.
"It's Friday, so let's make this quick. You know the deal—hand over the cash."
Nicholas stopped mid-step, his grin evaporating. 'For Christ's sake…' He didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. Sure enough, when he looked, there was Tod—the archetypal handsome, dumb jock and school bully. Two of his lackeys flanked him, their arms crossed as they cornered a wiry, nervous-looking kid with glasses.
Nicholas's mind screamed at him to keep walking, to let someone else deal with it. But his body betrayed him. Before he could even think, his feet were moving, carrying him straight into the fray.
And just like that, he found himself standing between Tod and his victim.
"D-Darklight!" Tod stuttered, taking a step back, though he quickly regained his composure as he glanced at his two lackeys.
'Jason and Brad, if I remember correctly…' Nicholas assessed the situation. If he were just fighting Tod alone, he could probably win like he had before. But a one-on-three? Definitely not. He needed a different strategy. If fists wouldn't work, then maybe the mind would.
"What're you doing here, Darklight?! I ain't got no business with you. Not yet, at least," Tod said, his grin a mixture of bravado and uncertainty.
Nicholas's bored blue eyes bored into Tod's dark, frightened ones. 'What a lame-ass threat…' With a sigh, Nicholas forced a friendly smile onto his face, one that only seemed to unsettle Tod even more.
'Oh, come on. I know I'm below average, but my face isn't that bad, is it?' Nicholas thought, but he kept the smile plastered anyway.
"No, no, Tod. I'm not here to interrupt your business. That would be incredibly rude of me—especially since I haven't made an appointment," Nicholas said smoothly.
Tod looked confused. "T-then you're not here to save this nerd?" he added, pointing at the shaking, wide-eyed kid trembling behind Nicholas.
Nicholas's cold gaze shifted toward the nerd before looking back at Tod with his smile still in place.
"No," he said simply. Then, leaning in, he spoke in a low, casual tone:
"I'm just here to warn ya."
He got closer to Tod, throwing an arm around his shoulders as though they were old friends.
"We're close, aren't we, Tod? I think we grew especially close after that fight of ours."
"W-we did?" Tod said, his voice uncertain.
"Yeah. So that's why I'm giving you a word of advice: It's best not to start a mess in the busy hall. Especially with a camera so close nearby, don't you agree?" Nicholas gestured toward a small, unassuming device affixed to the ceiling.
Tod looked up, puzzled. "Isn't that just a smoke detector?"
Nicholas frowned, and Tod flinched.
"Tod, Tod, Tod… it's not just a smoke detector. It's also a fire sprinkler."
There was a beat of silence. "And—" Tod began.
"AND it's also a camera," Nicholas added with emphasis.
"Huh?! For real?"
"For real, for real."
"But how does that work?"
"Tod, you're seriously questioning technology? At nearly the halfway point of the 21st century? We're basically living in the FUTURE. You're losing grip on reality, Tod. Anything's possible nowadays."
"I—I understand now. T-thank you!" Tod said quickly, his voice wavering.
But before he could let his gratitude sink in, Tod turned his attention back to the nerd and gave him a fierce glare.
"Nerd, you better have the money prepared after school, or your ass is fried."
With that, Tod and his two lackeys took off, leaving Nicholas standing there, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
'Idiot,' he thought, barely stopping himself from laughing.
The nerd looked up at him hesitantly, his voice trembling as he began to speak.
"T-thank you—"
"No need," Nicholas interrupted, his tone sharp. He turned to face the nervous kid fully, his eyes piercing into his. "But when do you plan on standing up for yourself?"
"P-pardon?" the nerd asked, confused.
"It isn't that hard to come up with a simple lie to convince that guy to leave you alone. I bought you some time but on Monday? You're on your own, man."
Nicholas patted him on the shoulder and walked away.
It might have seemed cruel, but he deemed it necessary. He wasn't going to always be there to foil Tod's bullying.
At the end of the day, his goal was to help people—not just save them.
With that, Nicholas left his school in a great mood once more, the tension of the hallway confrontation already fading behind him. The afternoon sun bathed the streets in golden light, and the warm breeze tugged at his hair as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
He was free. Or at least, as free as anyone could be in a world that had learned to live with the Swart Rook and Super-powered individuals.
But beneath the calm exterior of this ordinary Friday, something was stirring.
Something in KhyberCorp Tower.
The massive, monolithic structure stood as a gleaming symbol of technological dominance in the heart of Fusionight City. Its glassy exterior shimmered under the sun, its sleek lines and geometric perfection looking almost unreal against the sky. Within those walls, corporate ambitions, secrets, and technological wonders churned beneath the watchful gaze of the world's elite.
Today, however, the air inside KhyberCorp Tower was different.
Back on the streets, Nicholas was unaware of all this. His mind was already drifting to his weekend plans—catching up on homework, grabbing a strawberry milkshake, and maybe losing himself in some game time with Philip for a few hours.
But trouble has a way of finding those unprepared.
The gears in KhyberCorp Tower were grinding, and the pieces of a much larger game were moving.
The kind of trouble that didn't wait until Monday.