“Hey, Dad,” Hiro greeted, handing the lilac to his mother, Yuna. She smiled warmly, placing it in a vase.
“Welcome back, Hiro,” Axel said, his eyes bright with excitement. “I was just telling your mother about my recent level up. I hit level 75 after a big fight, and the payout was quite substantial.”
“That’s amazing, Dad!” Hiro exclaimed. “So, what’s next?”
“Well,” Axel began, “at 42, reaching Enchanter Adept as a Rune Warden is quite the milestone. But now I need better equipment to prepare for my next job advancement at level 100 to become a Ward Guardian.”
“Rune Warden is a rare class, right?” Hiro asked, intrigued.
“Indeed,” Axel confirmed. “I’ve already advanced through Runic Initiate at level 10, Runic Scribe at level 25, and Enchanter Adept at level 50. Each advancement provides new skills or upgrades existing ones based on repetition. It’s crucial to have the right gear to maximize these skills.”
Hiro nodded, absorbing the information. “That makes sense. Are you going to buy new equipment today?”
“Yes, I’ll be heading out around noon,” Axel replied. “I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to come along and learn. You’re about to awaken soon, and understanding how to choose and use your equipment is important.”
“I’d love to go,” Hiro said enthusiastically. “Thanks, Dad.”
As Hiro was leaving with his father, his mother kissed them both on the head. “Don’t come home too late, dinner will be ready,” she reminded them with a smile.
Axel and Hiro ventured into the downtown part of the city, bustling with activity. They stopped by a locally famous shop known for having the best blacksmith in town. To Hiro’s surprise, the owner of the shop came out to greet them.
Hiro's eyes widened. “You’re the blacksmith?”
The man chuckled. “You seem surprised, young man. My name’s Borin Ironforge, but most people call me Iron.”
Hiro, still in awe, responded, “I thought you’d be a dwarf.”
Iron laughed heartily. “I get that a lot. You might be wondering why I’m a human kid, but I was apprenticed to a dwarf who taught me the basics of blacksmithing. I traveled with him around the world, learning the trade. Now, here I am.”
Axel clapped Iron on the back. “Borin and I go way back. He’s the best there is.”
Borin smiled at Hiro. “Your dad’s too kind. Come on in, let’s get you both sorted.”
Axel turned to Hiro. “Wait here for a bit, son. I need to discuss some business with Borin.”
Hiro nodded, watching his father and the blacksmith disappear into the back of the shop. He stood at the front of the smithy, admiring the various weapons and armor on display. The air was filled with the sounds of clanging metal and the hiss of steam, a symphony of craftsmanship.
As soon as Axel and Iron disappeared around the corner of the smithery, I bolted. I had to see Iota. I had to give her the birthday present I’d been holding onto all morning—the small, violet rose I grew just for her. And I wanted to be there when she awakened. We always shared moments like that. Always at the ancient tree.
But when I reached our meeting spot, my heart dropped.
The clearing—our place—was in ruins.
The great tree that had stood for centuries was scorched and cracked down the middle. The earth was torn up, clawed like something had ripped through it in rage. Charred leaves floated in the air. Our tools, our sketches, our memories—scattered, crushed, broken.
And she wasn’t there.
Neither was the robot—the one we’d built together, piece by piece. I’d seen it just this morning. She never took it out of the clearing.
Something was wrong.
I ran. Through the narrow alleys of the small city, through crowds of people who blurred past me. My breath caught with every step. My mind screamed her name.
And then I saw them.
Down an alley, in the shadow of a collapsed wall—Iota and the robot.
Or what was left of them.
I ran closer—and my world shattered.
Iota lay on the ground, barely moving. Blood streaked down her face, and her clothes were torn and burned. Her horns—small, barely visible before—were now fully grown and glowing faintly. Her secret was out. The one she told only me. And now… it was being punished.
Around her stood a group of kids—not much older than us. Maybe twelve or thirteen. Their eyes burned with fear. Their hands crackled with awakened powers. I saw the look on their faces. It wasn’t confusion. It wasn’t anger.
It was hatred.
Like they weren’t looking at a girl. They were looking at a monster.
The robot we’d built together—now her only shield—was bent forward, its arms limp, its chest shielding her broken body. They had attacked her like she was the Demon King himself.
I froze.
Then the rose slipped from my fingers.
It hit the ground in slow motion, petals trembling as it landed in the dirt.
My chest burned. My hands clenched into fists. My whole body shook with fury, fear, and helplessness.
They were going to kill her.
And all I could think was—I’m too late.
POV Iota
After Hiro left to bring his mother her usual lilac—a small act of love he never forgot—I lingered under the accent tree. The wind whispered through the branches like it knew we had built something sacred here. I knelt beside our little sanctuary, fiddling with the robot we made together, its eyes blinking back at me like it understood. It was peaceful. It was home.
Then they came.
A group of four stumbled into our haven, their presence loud and wrong. I stood. My heart tightened. I told them this place was already taken—ours. Mine and Hiro’s.
But they didn’t care.
They were all awakened. I could feel it—low levels, maybe two to five. But one of them… she stood like a queen among crows. A girl. Cold. Commanding. I didn’t know her name then, but I felt it in my bones: she was the leader. Later I’d know her as Ava.
They didn’t waste time. Ava gave the command.
“Noah.”
The fireball was small—but fast. It screamed through the air toward me.
I froze.
And then... he moved.
My robot. Our creation.
He threw himself between me and the flame. No hesitation. No sound.
Just... gone.
Metal screamed as the blast tore through him. Sparks and shattered parts rained down around me. My heart dropped. My breath caught.
Something in me cracked.
Sorrow morphed into rage.
I ran at them, blind and boiling. But before I could strike, something hit me—hard. I barely saw him. A blur in the corner of my eye—Liam. Shadowstep. I slammed into the ground, coughing dirt and fury.
I clawed my way back up and landed a punch on Noah. He staggered. For a moment, I thought maybe—just maybe—I could fight. But Emma’s hands glowed, and Noah stood tall again. Healed. Unbothered.
I wasn’t just outnumbered. I was outmatched.
Still—I tried.
I threw myself at them again, fists wild, teeth clenched. It didn’t matter. They overwhelmed me. Especially her—Ava. Untouchable. Cold fire in her eyes.
Something inside me screamed.
It wasn’t fear. It was something older. Deeper. It answered the rage.
My vision blurred red. The world twisted. And then they saw me.
My true self.
My horns split through, curling from my head like a curse.
They stepped back.
“She’s a monster,” someone whispered.
Then louder. United.
“She’s a MONSTER!”
And with that, they decided to kill me.
I struck at Ava—but she was ready. One blow and I was on my knees. Blood in my mouth. The earth spun.
Desperate, I reached for the only thing left: Blessing—the robot Hiro and I built together, barely functional. It would never show its full power without him. But I could move it. That was enough.
I climbed in. My fingers found the controls. The cockpit sealed.
I ran.
Into the city. Through alleys. Past shadows. I didn’t know where I was going. Just away.
They chased me. I could hear them—footsteps pounding, spells hissing through the air.
But Blessing was tiring. Every step was heavier. Slower. The joints groaned. The power core flickered. It was dying.
They caught up to me at the edge of the ruins.
I fell. My body crashed from the cockpit to the stone. Horns glinting. Blood streaking my face.
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I couldn’t move.
Ava stepped forward.
This was it.
And then...
I saw him.
A boy in the distance.
Hiro.
He stood in the street holding a rose—his mother’s lilac long gone, replaced by a red bloom.
It slipped from his fingers.
Petal by petal, it fell—soft, silent, slow.
Just like him.
Just like me.
And as the world tilted toward darkness, I realized—
This was no longer just a fight for a patch of earth.
It was war for something far more fragile: hope.
POV: Hiro
The moment I saw her—bloodied, beaten, horns exposed, and barely breathing—I didn’t think.
I ran.
My feet tore through the dirt as I gripped the wooden sword in my hand. Useless as it was, it felt like the only thing keeping me from falling apart. The moment I reached them, I swung hard, aiming at the first blur that moved.
Crack.
Liam didn’t expect it. My blade smacked across his shoulder, sending him stumbling. For a split second, I thought—maybe. Maybe I could protect her. Maybe I could win.
But then Ava stepped forward.
Her fist was like steel. No magic, just raw, brutal strength. It crashed into my chest, and my body lifted off the ground—air knocked out, vision white-hot—before slamming into the dirt beside Iota.
I couldn’t breathe.
Still, I turned to her.
She was barely conscious. Blood matted her hair. Her body trembled with every breath. I knew this might be the last time I’d ever get to speak to her. My voice shook.
“Everything will be okay,” I whispered, forcing a smile through the pain. “Nothing will ever hurt you… not while I’m here.”
She didn’t respond. But her eyes flickered open—just for a moment—and I knew she heard me.
“I want to know you better, Iota. Always. I want to be with you.” I hesitated, then laughed softly. “I don’t know much about it, but… I think that’s what people mean when they talk about marriage. When they care about someone so much, they never want to leave.”
Her lips parted. No words came. But I felt the weight of that silence.
And then—darkness took me.
I collapsed against her shoulder, my hand brushing hers.
Suddenly, glowing light blinked into existence in front of Iota—two hovering screens. One shimmered with three choices:
- Nano-Swarm (Epic Rank): Deploy a swarm of nanobots for repair, attack, or defense.
- Mech Summon (Common Rank): Summon small mechanical creatures to aid in battle.
- Mech Fusion (God Rank): Fuse robots temporarily into a unit with combined powers. (No rank displayed.)
Iota didn’t hesitate. Her heart didn’t just lean—it lunged toward the choice.
Mech Summon.
She clicked.
A pulse of radiant light exploded in front of her, and out of the glow stepped a small robot. Compact, but sleek—an orb-bodied mech balanced on four spindly legs that flexed with shocking agility. Its bronze armor shimmered with soft, electric blue veins of energy pulsing through its frame. The initials “H + I” were etched into its shoulder plate, a quiet reminder of who she used to be—who she was fighting for.
She had built this one on her own. Secretly. In spare moments. Late nights. Scrap by scrap.
She had never tested it in battle.
Until now.
The group didn’t even flinch.
“Get her!” Ava barked.
The ground quaked with motion as all four of them charged at once.
But this time—Iota didn’t run.
The mech moved first.
It darted forward, a blur of bronze and blue light, leaping over Iota with an electrified hiss. It slammed into Liam’s chest mid-sprint, sending him tumbling backward in a heap. Sparks flew as the mech spun, extending a mechanical tendril that cracked into Emma’s staff, splintering it in two. She fell back, clutching her hand with a cry.
Noah raised his hand to cast—but the mech was already there.
BOOM—a point-blank burst of shock energy exploded in his face, flinging him off his feet and straight into a crumbling tree trunk.
Even Ava stepped back, her eyes widening. Her confidence faltered.
Iota rose.
A flicker of light surrounded her body as the mech synced with her energy. She felt her wounds stitching shut, her pulse steadying, her legs holding stronger.
Her hands glowed faintly, circuits running beneath her skin—her soul had connected with the machine.
Ava clenched her fists and rushed forward, aiming to end this.
Iota sidestepped her first punch—barely—and brought her elbow into Ava’s ribs. Ava grunted and retaliated with a spinning kick, but Iota ducked, sliding under her leg and shouting, “NOW!”
The mech lunged like a predator, grabbing Ava’s arm mid-motion and twisting it violently. Ava let out a snarl, blasting it back with a sudden pulse of kinetic force. The mech skidded but landed upright.
Liam recovered and sprinted back into the fray, dual daggers glowing in his grip. Iota blocked one slash with her forearm and turned, launching a backward kick to his stomach. The robot joined her side instantly, firing a rapid burst of plasma darts that pinned Liam’s cloak to a tree behind him.
Noah stood up again—burnt, angry, magic roaring in his hand.
“Fire Storm!”
A swirling blaze erupted from his palm and raced toward Iota.
The mech didn’t hesitate. It deployed a shield—a semi-transparent barrier that absorbed the blast in a flickering dome of energy. The fire swirled uselessly, the core of the mech glowing brighter in response, then firing the remaining heat outward in a repulsor wave.
Noah was thrown backward like a ragdoll, groaning in defeat.
Only Ava remained.
Panting. Eyes narrow. Covered in dirt and bruises, but unbroken.
“You’re not supposed to have this kind of power,” she hissed. “You’re a freak. A half-machine witch.”
Iota stepped forward, her voice colder than steel.
“And you’re a coward who picks fights with the weak.”
Ava screamed and launched herself at her—faster than before, filled with rage. Her fists crackled with kinetic energy, each blow shaking the air.
Iota blocked the first punch, caught the second, but the third hit her square in the jaw. Blood flew from her mouth.
But the mech was already moving.
It tackled Ava mid-punch, slamming her into the dirt with a ground-shaking impact. It reeled back its mechanical arm, ready to deliver the final blow.
Iota raised her hand, her body glowing.
She wasn’t just synced with the mech now.
She was commanding it.
Circuits bloomed beneath her skin. Her eyes glowed bright.
She looked down at Ava—trapped, defeated, terrified.
She lifted her hand, trembling—not from fear, but fury. For everything they tried to take.
For Hiro.
For the life she could’ve had.
The robot’s claws buzzed, ready to strike.
And she hesitated.
Just for a moment.
A breath.
A shadow fell across the battlefield.
The sky darkened.
And then… he arrived.
The air changed—turned heavy.
A shadow dropped from above, cloaked in a swirling aura of raw power and authority. His eyes gleamed like black suns. Horns twisted from his head like they ruled the sky itself. The Demon King had arrived.
"Iota," his voice boomed, deep and unwavering. "Enough."
She froze mid-strike. Her breath caught in her throat.
“But they tried to kill me,” she whispered.
“I know. But you are no murderer.”
He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. His presence seemed to silence the entire world. Then, turning toward the fallen kids, he narrowed his gaze.
“They are children. Foolish, but children nonetheless.”
The Demon King raised his hand. A violet light enveloped them.
“Sleep. And forget.”
With that, their memories unraveled—of Iota, of this place, of the girl with horns and a fury stronger than steel.
Hiro stirred.
His fingers twitched against the stone. His chest ached. His vision swam in and out of focus—but then he saw them.
Iota.
She stood at the center of the shattered battlefield, her horns cracked and streaked with dried blood. Her eyes, though dim, still burned with defiance. But she wasn’t alone.
Beside her loomed a figure so vast, so otherworldly, that even the light seemed to recoil from him. Cloaked in darkness, crowned with twisted bone, his eyes flickered like dying stars. The ground beneath him pulsed with unnatural weight. Reality itself trembled around his presence.
The Demon King.
And he was holding Iota’s hand.
Gently.
Like she belonged to him.
No.
No.
Hiro’s body surged before thought could catch up. A force unlike anything he had ever felt exploded from deep within him. Unawakened, raw, and untamed—but real. His veins lit up, glowing white-hot. The very ground beneath him cracked with each step.
His arm flared with light as he rushed forward, weapon raised.
With a cry of fury, of heartbreak, of desperation, he struck.
Clang.
The Demon King didn’t move.
He caught Hiro’s sword mid-air—with two fingers.
A faint line of blood appeared across his hand.
For the first time… the King blinked.
Interested.
“You… have not awakened,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “Yet you resist me. Fascinating.”
Hiro trembled, pushing with everything he had, teeth clenched, veins pulsing with defiance.
The Demon King tilted his head—curious.
Then he lifted his free hand.
A black wave of energy, cold as death, wrapped around Hiro’s skull. It seeped into his mind like smoke, curling into his thoughts.
“I will wipe this moment from your memory,” he said coldly. “Your meeting, this bond—it must not exist.”
But something pushed back.
It wasn’t just Hiro’s will.
It was a thread. A whisper. A pulse of something deeper.
“Don’t forget me.”
The King’s eyes narrowed.
The spell faltered.
He staggered a step—not from pain, but from recognition.
“…Terrifying,” he whispered. “You resist me at this stage? You drew blood... in this state?”
Then, something clicked.
His eyes slowly turned toward Iota—now standing taller, straighter. Her body glowed faintly, as if connected to something greater. Her hand, still held out from where Hiro had fallen, pulsed with light beneath the skin.
“You’ve… awakened,” the King said, more to himself than her.
Then his voice darkened with suspicion.
“But what is it?”
He studied her, not with the gaze of a king, but of a scholar—and still, found no answer.
Because even he didn’t know.
In this world, everyone was born with a Soul Skill—one unique to them. A gift buried deep within their spirit. Some awakened it. Most never did. And those who did often spent their entire lives learning what it truly was.
But this…
This wasn’t like anything he had seen.
“It’s not Jain,” he muttered. “It feels like Jain. The resonance. The bond. But this... is older. Wilder. And it’s incomplete.”
A ripple of something ancient passed between Hiro and Iota.
Their eyes met.
And suddenly, they knew.
Whatever this was—it bound them. Tied them in a way that defied time and memory. Something the King couldn’t see. Couldn’t understand.
He stepped back.
“You don’t even know what she is to you yet,” he said quietly to Hiro. “But you would risk everything—for her.”
He lowered his hand.
“You’ve both been marked,” he said. “By something beyond me.”
Then, almost reluctantly, he turned to Iota.
“You must leave now. You are no longer safe among mortals. Whatever you’ve awakened—it will call hunters, kings, gods.”
Iota looked down at Hiro.
Her lip trembled.
She knelt beside him, gently lifting the torn rose from his limp hand. Then unclasped her necklace—a delicate silver chain with a single wing charm—and placed it around his neck.
“This… is goodbye,” she whispered, voice cracking. “We may never see each other again. But promise me… you’ll remember. Even if everything else fades.”
She leaned down, forehead to forehead.
“I’m sorry, Hiro.”
His fingers curled weakly around hers.
His lips parted.
“Happy birthday,” he whispered, voice trembling with everything he had left.
And then—
She was gone.
The Demon King vanished with her, swallowed by shadow and silence.
Hiro lay in the empty street, unconscious.
It wasn’t long before a desperate voice called out.
“Hiro!” Axel’s boots pounded the earth, Iron close behind him.
They found him lying still, dirt-covered, with a necklace glowing softly on his chest.
Iron knelt. “There’s no injuries… but the air’s wrong. Something happened here.”
Axel picked up his son, heart racing. “Let’s get him home.”
That night, after returning home late, both Hiro and Axel were greeted by a furious Yuna.
“The food’s cold,” she snapped. “You’re lucky you’re not grounded until next year.”
Hiro stirred awake.
“Hey, kid,” Axel said, sitting beside him. “What happened?”
Hiro blinked slowly.
“I… I don’t remember much. Just… a girl with pink hair. And a promise. This necklace… it was hers.”
Yuna sighed, setting down a bowl of reheated stew.
“Well, mystery girl or not—you still gotta eat.”
The food was cold.
But it was still delicious.
And somehow… Hiro smiled.
Because somewhere deep inside, he knew—this wasn’t the end.
It was only the beginning.
Her father said nothing as he carried her away, his grip firm, his expression unreadable. The silence between them was heavier than any scolding, louder than any lecture. When they finally arrived home, he spoke—not with anger, but with something darker. Something afraid.
“We’re moving again. Tomorrow. You’re not to leave the house. You’re grounded… for your own protection.”
Iota didn’t speak.
Couldn’t.
Her mind was still echoing with the words that pierced through the pain like sunlight breaking cloud—
“Happy birthday.”
The memory of Hiro’s voice played again and again in her head, wrapping around her like a thread spun from warmth and heartbreak. Her stomach fluttered, her chest tightened, her cheeks burned with a quiet fire she didn’t understand. No one had ever said that to her before—not like that. Not with that kind of truth.
And then, just as her heart began to steady, another screen shimmered into existence before her eyes—silent, glowing, inevitable.
Soul Skill Unlocked
Name: Jain
Type: Bonded Soul Skill
Effect: When united with your soulmate, both of your abilities are amplified by 100x.
Curse: If either of you begins to forget, your growth will slow, your magic will weaken, and your soul will fracture.
Note: This skill is among the rarest known—less than one in a million awaken it. Most who do… do not live long after.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Jain.
A Soul Skill so rare, most dismissed it as legend. The kind that doesn’t just alter battles—it reshapes fates. Connects two people so deeply, their lives, magic, and destinies are forever entwined.
And now—it was hers.
Tears slipped down her cheeks before she even knew they were falling. Her fingers rose, trembling, to the winged charm at her throat—still cold from when she placed it around Hiro’s neck. A promise. A part of her, now with him.
Hiro.
His smile. His stubborn courage. His voice.
She held onto it like a lifeline.
Because no matter where they were—no matter how many miles or memories lay between them—
She would not forget.
Not now.
Not ever