The marketplace of Roza was alive with its usual clamor—vendors hawking their wares, drunks brawling in the alleys, and the ever-present hum of soul essence threading through the air. But amidst the chaos, one figure lay motionless on the cold cobblestones.
A boy.
Skinny, ragged, and unconscious, his fingers clutched a pulsing artifact—a Void Resonance Core, its dark runes flickering with an eerie glow. Around him, the torchlight dimmed, as if the very essence of light was being devoured by his presence.
"Out cold…"
A man crouched beside the boy, his face hidden beneath the shadow of a black cloth cloak. Zephyr, a Peak Stage Soul Grandmaster, exhaled sharply, his gaze flickering between the boy and the trapdoor beneath them, its crimson glow still throbbing like a dying heartbeat. His brass spike lay discarded nearby, its essence drained.
He hadn't meant to knock the kid out—just test him. But the moment he'd sensed the boy's soul essence, his instincts had screamed.
Void essence.
The kind that swallowed light whole.
The kind the ancient prophecy spoke of.
"A boy with essence that devours light… the savior in the broken city."
Zephyr's jaw tightened. Roza was broken, alright—crumbling under the weight of corrupt nobles like Lysara and the ever-looming shadow of the Eclipse Council. And this scrawny kid? The supposed savior?
He scoffed.
The kid—Kai, if the whispers in the crowd were right—groaned, blood seeping from a gash on his side. A Late Stage Soul Master's axe had grazed him, and Zephyr's spike had only made things worse. But the core in his hand… it was reacting.
Pulsing.
Alive.
Zephyr didn't believe in prophecies. But he believed in power. And if the Eclipse Council got wind of a void essence user in Roza?
They'd come for him. Fast.
With a grunt, Zephyr scooped the boy up, his Grandmaster strength making the weight negligible. The crowd barely noticed as he slipped away, his Shadow Veil technique muffling his steps. The market swallowed them whole—steam from noodle carts, the stench of ale, the cacophony of barter and brawl.
Lysara's goons wouldn't find him now.
Not yet.
The real forge wasn't some tinkerer's stall. It was buried deep in Roza's underbelly, behind an iron door etched with humming runes. Zephyr kicked it twice—the signal.
The door creaked open, revealing Torren's grizzled face, his beard streaked with soot, his eyes sharp as the daggers he forged.
"Zephyr,"the old man rasped. Then his gaze dropped to the unconscious boy. "And what's this?"
"Trouble,"Zephyr said, laying Kai on a nearby cot. "Void essence. Like the prophecy."
Torren's bushy eyebrows shot up. He leaned in, inspecting the boy, then the core still clutched in his hand. The runes on the forging table behind them *thrummed* in response, gears grinding as if awakened.
"You think he's the one?" Torren muttered.
"I think the Council will kill him if they find out,"Zephyr growled. "Lysara's already sniffing around. And that Late Stage Soul Master wasn't just some random thug."
Torren chuckled, wiping his hands on a grease-stained rag. "So, you're dumping him on me?"
"Teach him,"Zephyr said. "If he's got void essence, he'll need more than luck to survive."
The old forger smirked. "And where are you off to, then?"
Zephyr's hand drifted to the void-daggers at his belt, their edges humming with restrained power.
"Chronopolis," he said. "The Eclipse Council's gotten too comfortable. Time to remind them why they fear the shadows."
With that, he melted into the night, his form blurring with Night Stride, leaving the boy—and the prophecy—in Torren's hands.
---
Elsewhere in Roza…
A noblewoman's polished boot crushed the abandoned communicator underfoot.
"Find him,"Lysara hissed to her men. "That boy has something that belongs to me."
The hunt had only just begun.