Ashes of despair still clung to the corners of his soul, but from within that smoldering ruin… something rose.
Not the broken boy who clung to borrowed ideals. Not the disciple who walked a righteous path. That self had shattered.
Now, Neo the Unrestrained stood in his place.
He had no tears left for suffering, no warmth left for ideals. The name Damian Sunblade—that wealthy heir—had been etched into his soul like molten iron poured through an open wound. A brand of humiliation. Of wrath.
And Neo—the version now in control—would never forget.
But revenge, while sweet, could wait.
Heavenly Trials were approaching.
In the old days, Neo would've prepared meticulously, following every doctrine and dictum from the Heavenly Tomes handed to him. But Damian had burned them to ash, along with the last vestiges of the old Neo's dependency.
Good.
That weakness, that pathetic clinging to structure, to rules, to righteous progression—it sickened Beo.
"Heavenly Tomes? I'll write my own."
---
Abyss Prison, Cell K-6
The silence in the prison had once swallowed hope. Now, it bore witness to something far stranger.
Every day, the youth with ash-grey hair slit open his finger with a shard of broken tile, and carved symbols into the cold, stone walls using his own blood. No incantations. No chants. Just blood, silence, and motion.
The old man in silver hair, once amused by Neo's downfall, now watched in growing confusion. At first, he assumed it was madness—a slow collapse under pressure.
But days passed.
Lines of crude blood became coherent shapes. Shapes became glyphs. Glyphs became passages—written in a rhythm and symmetry that echoed the skies themselves.
It was as if the walls themselves were being engraved with a scripture never before seen, yet oddly familiar. A primal resonance stirred in the air with each added mark.
The old man's brows furrowed deeper with each passing day.
Where had he seen this pattern before?
---
Skycloud Academy - Library Wing
A hush hung over the eastern wing of the Skycloud Academy Library—not because of the books, but because Kael was there.
Yes. Kael. The notorious jokester. The loudmouth with a prank for every occasion. The youth whose laughter echoed louder than the Academy's ceremonial bells.
Now?
Silent.
Eyes sharp. Brows furrowed. Hands leafing through ancient records and trial archives with surgical precision.
Students whispered in confusion.
"Is he looking for better jokes?"
"Maybe he's researching pranks on a cosmic level?"
No.
Only a select few knew the truth.
Since the day Neo—his best friend—was framed and cast into the Abyss, Kael's smile never returned. His smirk, once his signature, had been buried under the weight of loss, betrayal, and rage.
What remained wasn't a joke.
It was potential.
The kind of terrifying, focused potential that only those with dormant talent and buried fury could awaken.
And Kael… was awakening.
---
Across the Continents
Beyond Skycloud's tall towers and silver domes, Academies across the world stirred in synchronized preparation. One great event loomed ahead, binding them all beneath the gaze of the Heavens:
The Descent of the Heavenly Trials.
Every student aged seventeen to eighteen was being rigorously guided, trained, enlightened. These trials weren't just a test. They were the fork in destiny. Fail, and one fades into mediocrity. Succeed, and the Skies may offer their might.
In the plazas, gardens, sparring halls, and secluded meditation chambers, young voices filled the air.
Some with excitement.
Others with dread.
But all, with hope.
---
"I'm going with the Martial Sky," one brawny youth proclaimed, fists sparking with energy. "To travel the world and fight legends."
"Mystic Sky for me," a quiet girl murmured, eyes closed in meditation, surrounded by floating crystal leaves. "There are truths this world still hides. I want to see beyond the veil."
"Only fools hesitate," sneered a richly dressed boy, flanked by two guards. "The Mega Sky is the only path worth walking. Rulership is the birthright of the strong. And the wealthy."
The three skies—each drawing followers like stars pulled by gravity.
Martial. Mystic. Mega.
But none yet knew… a fourth force was being written in blood and rebellion, deep within the shadows of the world.
---
Library Wing, Skycloud Academy
Ayna stepped quietly into the eastern wing, her soft boots making no sound across the polished marble. The usual buzz of students was absent here, as if silence had been stitched into the very air.
And there he was.
Kael.
Not the Kael she remembered—the one who made fun of professors mid-lecture or challenged the guards to duels just to lighten the mood. No, this Kael sat hunched over dusty tomes, eyes sharp and haunted. His messy hair fell over a face far too still.
I remember telling him to be more serious. But I am not sure anymore 5hat it was a right idea.
The thought came unbidden, bitter like ash.
She had always hoped he'd take life a little more seriously. But now that he had… her heqet twisted.
That wasn't the price she'd wanted him to pay.
"Kael," she called softly.
He turned.
And smiled.
His smile was clearly forced and didn't even reach his eyes. Despite the natural looking smile on his face, his expression seem to refute that outright.
That smile… looks uglier than crying.
Ayna's fingers clenched.
"I've found something," she said, her voice low, cautious.
That did it.
Kael's eyes snapped open with life—not joy, but something close: hope tethered to fury. The flicker of flame that could become a wildfire.
"I had my followers dig through restricted surveillance logs," Ayna began. "It took bribery, misdirection… favors I wish I hadn't used. But it was worth it."
Kael leaned forward, every muscle attentive.
"The footage from the days Neo was accused—gone. Scrubbed. All official logs show nothing. But one back-channel node still had echoes. And it showed…"
She paused, forcing herself to stay steady.
"…the relic didn't disappear inside the vault, Kael. And the place from where Neo was supposedly rescued by his so called comrades, that place is in the outskirts of the city."
Kael's jaw tensed. "So Neo was taken there by the law enforcement, they colluded with the rescuers?"
"Yes," Ayna confirmed. "He was likely taken, or… dumped there. Framed from the start."
A silence fell between them, heavy with implications.
"We still need more," she whispered. "But it's a thread we can follow. If we strike too late, Damian will bury the truth under another mountain of lies."
Kael stood up so fast the table jolted.
The shift in his aura was immediate—like a storm that had been brooding in stillness now began to move. Students nearby stared, startled by the intensity rolling off him in waves.
The burden, at least part of it, had been lifted.
He was smiling again—not perfectly, not fully, but this time…
It wasn't fake.
"I'm done waiting," he said. "Let's tear down the mask he's wearing."
Without another word, Kael strode out of the library, a shadow of purpose trailing behind him.
Ayna watched him go, her heart beating with hope and dread intertwined.
Neo… we're coming for you. Hold on.
---