The Shard’s Awakening

The dimly lit laboratory hummed with the quiet murmur of technology and the scent of alchemical experiments. Computers flickered with streams of data, experimental flasks bubbled with unknown substances, and anatomical sketches littered the walls, pinned among hastily written notes on a large sticky board. Amidst the controlled chaos, a middle-aged man sat at his desk, scribbling meticulously in a worn leather journal. The steady scratching of his pen was accompanied by the occasional clinking of glass as he carefully measured substances and recorded his findings.

From a shadowed corner of the room, a young voice broke the silence.

"Father, do we still possess the shard, or is it just a myth?"

The voice belonged to a boy, no older than twelve, lying on his stomach with an old book sprawled open in front of him. His fingers absentmindedly traced the illustrations on the page, though his golden eyes burned with curiosity.

The father chuckled, his deep, rumbling laughter filling the space. "Ahahaha! My dear Ren, the shard is no myth. We still have it."

Ren sat up, eyes wide with excitement. "Can I see it, Father?"

Smiling, the father beckoned his son closer. Ren scrambled to his feet and hurried over, eager to witness the relic of legend. The man reached for the necklace that rested around his neck, the chain glinting in the soft glow of the overhead lights. With gentle reverence, he lifted it over his head and held it before Ren.

"Hold out your hands," he instructed.

Ren obeyed, palms outstretched, heart pounding in anticipation. The father carefully placed the necklace into his son's grasp. Nestled within the chain was a crystalline stone, its surface partially obscured by bandages that had long since frayed with age.

Ren studied the relic closely, running his fingers over the textured wrappings. Then, without warning, the shard began to glow. A pulse of energy, faint at first, then blinding, surged through it, casting a cosmic light that filled the entire room.

Startled, Ren gasped and stumbled backward, his hands trembling. "F-Father, it's glowing!"

The man's smile never wavered. "Come with me," he said, turning toward the door.

Without hesitation, Ren followed. The two ascended a narrow staircase, their hurried footsteps echoing against the wooden steps. As they reached the rooftop, the cool night air wrapped around them. The sky stretched vast and infinite above them, the full moon bathing the world in silver light. A gentle breeze ruffled Ren's hair, carrying with it the distant howl of a wolf from the forests beyond their home.

Ren shivered slightly, but his father merely placed the glowing shard back into his hands. "Point it toward the moon," he instructed.

Nervously, Ren did as he was told.

The moment the shard aligned with the celestial body, a surge of energy coursed through him. His vision blurred, his pupils dilated, and suddenly—he saw.

Before him was not the night sky, nor the familiar moon that had hung above their world for centuries. Instead, the vastness of the galaxy unfolded before his very eyes. Nebulae swirled in radiant hues of violet and blue, stars burned like distant embers, and amidst the cosmic tapestry soared something beyond comprehension.

A great, serpentine form moved through the void, its silver-violet scales shimmering with the light of dying stars. Its body, seemingly endless, wove through the abyss with impossible grace. Its eyes—two radiant orbs of molten gold—burned with the weight of eons.

Xelthoryn.

Ren's breath caught in his throat. "Dad! Can you see it?! It's him! Xelthoryn!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.

But as suddenly as the vision came, it faded. His eyes returned to normal, and the galaxy disappeared. Ren stumbled, gripping the shard tightly as he turned to his father, his mind overflowing with questions.

"Da—"

A deafening tremor split the ground beneath them.

The night was suddenly alive with chaos. Birds erupted from the surrounding trees in a flurry of panicked wings. The earth roared as if awakening from a deep slumber. Alarm bells rang through the house, their shrill cries cutting through the night like a blade.

A robotic voice crackled through the speakers.

"Magic presence detected. Magic presence detected."

Ren's father stiffened. His expression turned grave as he grabbed Ren's arm, pulling him toward the basement. The ground beneath them trembled violently, sending dust and debris cascading from the ceiling. The house groaned under the strain.

"Activate the dome," the father commanded.

The robotic voice responded instantly. "Dome activated."

A faint hum resonated through the walls as the protective barrier sprang to life. A translucent, shimmering field of energy enveloped the building, standing as the last line of defense between them and the unknown. But the robotic voice spoke again—this time, with warning.

"The dome cannot hold for long. Magic levels exceeding safe limits. Multiple Grade-S sorcerers detected."

Ren's blood ran cold. Grade-S? Those were the highest-ranked magic users known to exist—capable of reshaping landscapes, summoning storms, and bending reality itself.

Another explosion shook the house. The shockwave sent books flying from their shelves, glass shattering against the floor. Ren barely had time to react before a massive wooden beam collapsed from the ceiling, hurtling toward him.

And then—

Darkness.

Ren jolted awake, gasping for air, his body drenched in sweat. His chest heaved as his mind reeled, struggling to separate memory from dream. The dim glow of artificial lights illuminated the room—a far cry from the night of destruction that had haunted his sleep.

A familiar robotic voice spoke beside him.

"You dreamt about it again."

Ren exhaled sharply, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He was no longer the child in that dream. He was a man now—twenty-three years old. But the past refused to release him from its grip.

He glanced to the side, where a mechanical arm extended toward him, a glass of water held delicately in its grip.

"Here. Drink," the robotic voice urged.

Ren took the glass from Noctis, his trusted AI companion, and downed the water in a single breath. The cool liquid did little to quell the fire in his mind.

As he set the glass down, he looked outside the window. It was a full moon. His fingers unconsciously brushed against his chest. The necklace—the shard—was still there, glowing and resting beneath his shirt.