The sky screamed above Sector 13.
A thunderous roar split the clouds, and the Guardian descended—wings wide, eyes glowing like molten suns.
Yor stood on shaking legs, eyes locked on the beast.
He wasn't ready.
He had no control, no strength to match this thing.
But none of that mattered.
His family was down there.
And that was enough.
> "Even if I break…"
"I'll stand."
Without thinking, without plan, Yor threw himself into the storm.
The wind battered his body.
The air trembled with unnatural force.
Then—
The Guardian exhaled.
A wave of pressure, heavy and ancient, slammed into Yor like a mountain.
He didn't scream.
He didn't cry.
He just… collapsed.
Falling from the sky like a forgotten leaf.
---
Darkness took him.
But not silence.
In the still void, a dream bloomed.
A scene painted in memory, though he had no memory of it.
Two men beneath a glowing sky—one cloaked in light, the other in dust and scars.
One held a baby in his arms.
He handed the child over with a voice full of weight.
> "He must live… even if the world forgets him. Even if he forgets himself."
"He must live."
The second man nodded in silence.
Held the child close.
And walked into the dark.
---
Yor's eyes snapped open.
Sweat clung to his body like chains. His heart pounded.
Was that real?
That child… was me.
Then… he's not my real father?
He sat up slowly, hand gripping the edge of the bed.
Memories from the underground attack clawed at him.
The blood of the First King—ancient, powerful, forbidden. It ran in him. Not as a legend… but as truth.
And now… that dream.
His head throbbed. His chest felt hollow.
If the man who raised him wasn't truly his father…
Then what was he?
Why was he abandoned?
Why was a seal placed on his body?
And if he wasn't just "Yor," then who the hell was he?
---
Muffled voices echoed from beyond the door.
> "His seal is breaking," his father whispered.
"We can't hide this forever. He's not safe anymore."
> "That doesn't change anything," his mother's voice answered firmly.
"He's my son. No matter what secrets lie in his blood, I will protect him."
Yor's breath hitched.
So it was true.
He wasn't born to them.
He was… given away. Hidden. Sealed.
Was I a danger to them all along?
He clenched the sheets in his fists.
So many thoughts. So many questions.
He was no longer sure of anything.
Only the ache in his chest reminded him—this pain was real.
He didn't even notice when the door creaked open slightly.
Outside, his sister stood frozen—eyes wide, lips parted.
She had heard everything.
---
Later that night, unable to sleep, Yor climbed to the rooftop.
The sky was wide and endless, glittering with a thousand silent stars.
He sat at the edge, arms wrapped around his knees.
He stared at the sky, but his gaze was hollow.
First King's blood…
A dream of being handed away…
Parents who aren't really mine…
> "What am I…?"
He sat like that for a long time.
Then—
A soft rustle behind him.
Yor turned quickly, instincts on edge.
His eyes widened in shock.
> "You…?" he whispered.
"You're awake?"
His sister stood there, wrapped in a blanket, eyes gentle and clear.
He hadn't expected her to recover so fast—hadn't expected her at all.
She walked over in silence and sat beside him, draping a second blanket over his shoulders.
---
She said nothing at first.
Just let the wind speak between them.
Then:
> "I don't care what they said… or what you are."
"I'm your sister. And I'll stay by your side no matter what happens."
Yor looked at her.
The confusion, the pain, the fear—they all tangled in his eyes.
But her presence was steady.
Unshaken.
He closed his eyes.
Then smiled.
Not because he had answers.
But because he knows that his family will always be there for him
> "It doesn't matter who I am."
"As long as I can protect the people who matter…"
"That's enough."
Above them, the stars shimmered.
And Yor's resolve, even in the face of truth, stood firm.
---