Chapter 1: The Fractured Sky

The world erupted into chaos.

One moment, Elias was seated at his cluttered desk, staring at the mysterious wooden box someone had left at his door. The next, his entire apartment was bathed in searing golden light as the box snapped open, revealing the medallion inside. It flared like a star on the verge of implosion.

He screamed as a stabbing pain lanced through his skull, like invisible claws tearing at his mind. The room around him fragmented, splintering into jagged black cracks that stretched into an endless void.

"The Balance is broken," a deep, detached voice echoed in his mind, cold and devoid of emotion. "The First Line has been severed. You are not ready."

"What the hell is going on?!" Elias shouted, his voice cracking as he stumbled back. The medallion pulsed in his trembling hand, its glow intensifying.

The voice ignored his panic, continuing its cryptic warning: "Prepare for transfer. Host synchronization… failed."

Before Elias could fully comprehend the words, the floor beneath him shattered, and he was pulled into the abyss.

12 Hours Earlier

The rain was relentless, pounding against the thin glass of Elias's apartment windows. He sat hunched on his worn-out couch, his eyes fixed on the desk in the corner of the room.

The surface of the desk was buried under a chaotic mess of papers, notes, and sketches—months of obsessive research that had led him nowhere. Diagrams of storm patterns, newspaper clippings about "The Fractured Sky Incident," and handwritten questions that no one could answer.

It had been a year since that night.

A night etched into his memory like a scar.

The sky had torn apart, splitting with an unnatural ferocity. Jagged bolts of lightning illuminated the chaos as an ear-splitting roar reverberated through the heavens. His father had been there, screaming, reaching for something beyond comprehension.

And then… silence.

The world called it a freak electrical storm. Elias knew better.

That storm had stolen his father and left him with nothing but questions and an aching emptiness that never went away.

He sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair as he turned his gaze to the rain-streaked window. The droplets distorted the dim city lights, stretching them into ghostly smears.

"Get it together," he muttered, shaking his head.

The harsh buzz of the intercom jolted him from his thoughts.

A Strange Delivery

"Elias," Mr. Yoras's gruff voice crackled through the intercom. "You've got a package downstairs."

"A package?" Elias frowned. "From who?"

"No name. No address. Just... get it."

The line cut off before Elias could respond.

Suspicious but curious, he threw on a jacket and trudged down the creaking stairs of the old apartment building.

When he reached the dimly lit lobby, Yoras was waiting near the front desk, holding a small wooden box.

"Here," the older man said, handing it over with a wary look.

The box was surprisingly heavy. Its surface was engraved with intricate, swirling patterns that seemed to shimmer faintly under the flickering fluorescent light.

"Who dropped it off?" Elias asked, examining the carvings.

"No idea," Yoras muttered, shaking his head. "It was just sitting there when I came in this morning."

Elias glanced up at him, noting the unease in the building manager's normally indifferent demeanor.

"Be careful with that thing," Yoras added, his voice unusually low.

Back in his apartment, Elias set the box on the coffee table.

The Medallion

The air in the room felt heavier the moment the box was placed down. Elias stared at it, a strange tension building in his chest.

At the center of the lid, a single word was etched in bold, deliberate letters:

LEGATUM.

"What the hell does that mean?" Elias murmured.

He traced his fingers over the carvings, and the box emitted a faint hum. A jolt of static electricity made him flinch, but before he could pull his hand away, the lid sprang open.

Inside, nestled on a bed of crimson velvet, was the medallion.

It was mesmerizing. The craftsmanship defied logic—its silver surface shimmered like liquid metal, and the strange symbols etched along its edge seemed to shift and twist under the dim light.

At the center of the medallion was a deep blue crystal, glowing faintly, its pulse rhythmic and hypnotic.

Elias's hand trembled as he reached for it.

The moment his fingers touched the cold metal, a surge of energy tore through him.

The Awakening of the Lines

Golden light erupted from the medallion, flooding the room with an otherworldly glow. Lines of pure energy shot out, weaving intricate patterns in the air around Elias.

He gasped, stumbling back as the symbols on the medallion lit up, their glow spreading to the lines that now connected to the walls, ceiling, and floor.

The apartment trembled, faint cracks forming along the surfaces as the golden web pulsed with an overwhelming intensity.

"The First Line is severed," the voice returned, its tone heavy with warning. "You are not ready."

"What are you talking about?!" Elias shouted, panic rising in his chest.

The lines around him flickered, their golden hue deepening into a foreboding crimson. The cracks in the walls widened, revealing a void of absolute darkness beyond.

Through the void, Elias caught glimpses of something—a crimson sky filled with jagged lightning, towering shadowy figures with glowing eyes, and a vast, broken landscape that defied all sense of reality.

Then came the final words:

"Prepare for transfer."

Into the Abyss

The medallion pulsed one last time before the ground beneath Elias gave way.

The golden lines shattered into countless fragments, and Elias felt himself falling, spiraling into the void.

Around him, fragments of light and darkness collided, forming shifting patterns that tugged at his mind like whispers of a forgotten truth.

Clutching the medallion tightly in his hand, Elias could only scream as the abyss consumed him.

To Be Continued...