Graduation Day in the minor realm of Aexel was more than a celebration—it was a coronation.
Banners bearing family sigils fluttered across the marble-laced courtyard of the magnificent school. Petals of golden shimmer rained from floating canisters, their glow refracting off the stained-glass towers that loomed above like the fingers of old gods. Proud parents, decked in their realm's best, mingled in clusters beneath a sky so pristine it looked painted.
A soft orchestral tune echoed from elevated platforms, where musespinners plucked glowing string-harps that played not just melodies, but echoes of the past—memories shaped into song for the honored graduates.
"You really think the army'll let you near the frontlines this early?" a boy with short dark hair laughed, ruffling his little brother's head as he pulled him close.
"Not only that," the older one replied, his robe fluttering slightly in the breeze, a medal already pinned near his chest, "I'm set to be at Specialist before year's end. That's where the church marked my Potential. So don't worry, okay? I'll be fine."
The younger one sniffled. "Will I get a Potential like that too?"
"Definitely," the older brother said, kneeling down. "We're family, after all."
Not far from them, a young woman with striking silver eyes adjusted her sash, laughing with her mother. "When I get that noble title, the first thing I'm doing is buying you and Dad a manor in Skyreach."
Her mother smiled tearfully. "Your father would be proud, my dear. He always said you'd rise like the morning star."
The girl nodded. "Then I'll shine so bright the Realms can't ignore me."
Everywhere, there was laughter. Promises. Futures. People taking pictures with long crystalline lens-orbs that clicked with a flash of stardust. It was a day to be remembered.
Except for one boy sitting by the far corner of the stage, tucked beneath the shadow of an obsidian monument carved with names of the school's favourite students over the years.
He sat on the stone edge alone, one leg dangling off, the other folded. No robe. No crowd. Just his coat, a little too thin for the crisp spring wind, and a pair of dead headphones around his neck that hadn't played music in months.
Kaelix.
Sixteen years old. Same age as everyone else. Same school. Same classes.
But not the same.
Especially when he's one of the Unmarked.
He exhaled, the breath fogging slightly as he stared at nothing in particular—just the scene unfolding. He could've gone home. The ceremony had nothing to do with him. His certificate had been handed over quietly last week. No ceremony, no family gathering, just a stamped scroll and a nod.
But he waited anyway.
"Where the hell is that airhead?" Kaelix muttered, eyes scanning the crowd. "Nick, you better not be late to your own graduation."
That's when he saw it.
A flash of red hair in a sea of pristine silver and navy blue graduation uniforms.
His brother—Nick, standing near the edge of a marble column, his back slightly hunched, speaking to someone cloaked in navy blue robes.
Kaelix narrowed his eyes.
The figure handed Nick something—a black-rectangular object wrapped tightly in chain-like ribbons. Then, without a word, the cloaked person turned and walked away, disappearing between two pillars like smoke in the wind.
Nick just stood there.
Frozen. Silent. The object gripped tightly in his hands until he noticed Kaelix approaching. He flinched, eyes wide, and immediately stuffed the item beneath his robe.
"Yo," Kaelix said casually. "The ceremony's about to start. What are you doing over here whispering with cryptids?"
Nick forced a smile. "It's... nothing important. Just—just an old friend."
"Right," Kaelix replied, but didn't push. "Well, congrats. Official graduate now, huh?"
Nick chuckled. "You too, idiot."
Kaelix snorted. "Yeah, not really. Doesn't count if they hand you your certificate like a grocery receipt. I didn't get a seat, didn't get the robes, and definitely didn't get the music."
Nick looked down, smile fading. "I... I wish you did."
Kaelix shrugged, eyes half-lidded. "Don't worry about it. I'm not really a party guy anyway. You know that."
Still, Nick's expression remained shadowed, lips tight, eyes avoiding his brother's. "I just thought maybe... maybe this year would be different. That they'd see past the system. Past that damn Potential crystal."
Kaelix leaned against the pillar beside him, following his gaze toward the crowd. "Yeah. Me too, I guess."
A beat passed. Then two.
Nick tilted his head up, looking at the sun with a strange glint in his eyes. "Kaelix... do you think the realms are fair?"
Kaelix blinked. "Huh? What kind of question is that?"
"Just answer it. Do you think it's fair?"
Kaelix frowned. "I mean... not really. But that's just how it is, right?"
Nick clenched his fists. "No. No, it's not. It's not fair that those rich bastards with their polished names and their private tutors get called 'Gifted' just because some god picked them at birth. It's not fair that people like us get stepped on from day one because a fucking ball said our potential wasn't good enough."
Kaelix's brows drew together. "Nick, what are you saying?"
Nick turned to him, voice low and trembling. "I'm saying this whole system is a lie. I'm saying maybe... maybe we should lose the war."
"…Okay," he said slowly, "I think we're gonna stop you right there, Nick."
Nick didn't look at him—he was still staring out at the courtyard, face half-shrouded in shadow, jaw clenched like he was chewing on years of bitterness.
Kaelix sighed. "I get it, alright? You're angry. And, sure, you've got reason to be. But... we should lose the war? Bit much, don't you think?"
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Look at me, Nick. I'm the one with no Potential. No talent. No worth. If anyone has a reason to spit at the world, it's me, right? But do you see me going full revolutionary?"
He gave his brother a half-hearted shrug and a crooked smile.
"I've accepted it. It sucks, sure—but I learned a long time ago that crying about it doesn't change a damn thing. So I stopped expecting the world to care. Made peace with it. That's just how things are."
But that only seemed to make Nick angrier.
"No," he growled, turning on Kaelix. "That's what pisses me off the most."
Kaelix stiffened.
Nick's eyes glistened—not with tears, but with frustration so deep it had nowhere left to go but outward.
"How can you just accept it? How can you just lie down and take it, like your life means nothing, just because some fucking crystal sphere didn't glow the right color for you?"
His voice trembled. "We were in the same classes. Slept in the same room. Ate the same food. Read the same damn books. And yet you're expected to smile and rot in some hole you didn't choose just because a god said so?"
Nick's voice cracked. "Fuck that. Fuck all of that."
Kaelix didn't answer right away. What could he say?
This wasn't like Nick at all. His brother was always the soft one—the type who'd sneak food to stray dogs or spend hours helping classmates with homework they didn't deserve. Always trying to fix things.
And maybe… that was the problem.
Maybe Kaelix couldn't understand this anger because he'd stopped hoping for better a long time ago. When you grow up being told your life doesn't matter, it changes the way you think. The way you feel.
It teaches you to stop feeling.
If Kaelix had cared more… if he had burned like Nick did… he wouldn't still be alive. He'd be just another Unmarked buried six feet under.
He looked away. "You need to cool down."
Nick didn't answer.
Kaelix reached out and nudged his shoulder. "Seriously, man. You've got great Potential. You could train up, join the military, get posted somewhere important. Hell, if you're lucky, you could make enough to buy me a little pod in Nieven where I can sit on my ass and play games all day. Maybe even spring for working headphones this time."
That got a weak laugh from Nick.
It was the sound of someone who wanted to believe, even if it was too late.
Kaelix nodded. "C'mon. Go to the ceremony. Smile. Bow. Get your shiny paper and all that jazz. Afterward, then we'll hit an arcade, grab some drinks, and play a dozen rounds of Mechfall till your thumbs bleed. My treat."
"…Alright," Nick said softly. "Yeah. Sure."
Kaelix patted his back. "Atta boy. I'll be around. Gonna find a place to sit that doesn't make my spine hate me."
He turned to leave, not knowing those were the last words he would ever say to his brother.
***************
Climbing trees wasn't exactly Kaelix's strong suit. Especially not wiry ones with slippery bark and brittle branches. But eventually, after a fair bit of muttering and self-directed insults, he settled onto a thick branch halfway up an old skybirch tree near the rear courtyard.
He leaned back against the trunk, breath short, legs swinging.
"Gods," he muttered, wincing. "If I had even a fraction of Nick's stats, I wouldn't be wheezing after a ten-foot climb."
From here, the view of the graduation stage was barely visible, blocked by trees and towers—but if he squinted, he could make out the cluster of graduates forming a line near the podium.
The soft hum of the announcer's voice echoed faintly, like a distant memory.
Kaelix leaned forward, elbows on knees, watching. The distance frustrated him. He wished he had a decent pair of binocs or a drone cam.
Figures. Even today, I'm watching from the sidelines.
His thoughts drifted again—to the person in the deep blue cloak.
That coat… it belonged to the Church. High order. Not someone who'd randomly visit a graduation unless they were sent for a very specific reason.
And that object he handed Nick…
Kaelix frowned.
It had been rectangular. Thick. Not a scroll. Not a device. Something… wrapped. Important.
The memory of Nick's words came back to him.
"Maybe we deserve to lose the war."
No.
Was that a...? His thoughts dared tread into dangerous territory. No. No way. That's impossible. They wouldn't give a student something like that. Not unless...
A voice interrupted him.
"Hey! You! What are you doing up there?"
Kaelix startled and looked down.
A security officer—woman, late twenties, armored in ceremonial chrome-blue—stood below, squinting up at him.
"You're not allowed to be in this area during the ceremony. State your name and affiliation."
Kaelix groaned inwardly. "Seriously? I graduated from this school."
The officer raised an eyebrow. "Your name?"
"Kaelix. K-A-E-L—I really gotta spell it out?"
She frowned, scrolling through a floating light-screen. "There's no record of any graduate by that name in this year's roster."
Kaelix blinked.
"...Figures," he muttered. "They probably removed me right after handing over my certificate. Bad for morale or whatever."
The Unmarked weren't exactly remembered with honor.
Before the guard could press further, it hit.
The sky—vibrating.
The ground—shuddering, like something was waking up.
Kaelix's entire body seized, a choking pressure squeezing his lungs. His skin broke out in goosebumps as the wind died in an instant.
"What…?" the guard murmured.
Then they both looked.
Toward the graduation stage.
And saw it.
Everything stilled.
Then—
WHHHHUUUMMMMMMM.
A low hum, like the groan of a dying god, shook the tree. Birds scattered. Leaves rattled.
Kaelix and the guard both turned toward the graduation stage just in time to see it:
A translucent dome of letters and words was forming.
No—not forming. Exploding outward.
It spread across the field like ink across paper, devouring the air itself, warping the light into jagged fractures of crimson and violet. Electricity snapped in the sky. People screamed. The grass beneath the dome twisted, aged, and died.
Kaelix's eyes widened in horror. There was no mistaking it.
An Advent.
One of the cursed gates. Forbidden. Calamitous. A rift born from despair, chaos, and contradiction.
Nick... no.
Before he could move, before the guard could speak again—
The dome hit.
A hurricane of static thoughts—alien voices, paradoxes, unformed gods whispering truths that shattered sense—vomited into his mind.
Kaelix had a single, fleeting thought before the world drowned:
It must have been... He wouldn't have...
And then—
Black.