Planet of ORIGINS
"Before war returns to the stars, a world must first learn to stand."
The Long Silence
For countless millennia, the universe whispered through time.
In a quiet corner of its spiral arms, a single blue-green planet trembled into life.
No gods watched it. No divine beasts roamed it.
Not yet.
But the world was already preparing itself.
The Rise of Earth
First came fire and stone — molten fury becoming land.
Then oceans, born from vapor and pressure.
Skies cracked into being. Storms howled.
The elements raged and quieted in cycles of birth and destruction.
Then… life.
Tiny. Simple. Insignificant.
But it multiplied.
Adapted.
Changed.
From those earliest sparks came fish, insects, animals, and forests.
And time — time never stopped.
Mountains shifted. Seas split. Creatures fell and rose.
And in the chaos, one creature began to shape tools. Build fire. Draw stars in caves.
Humans.
They loved. They hunted. They feared the sky and prayed to things they couldn't see.
But the true gods? They weren't watching.
They had died long ago in a war far beyond stars.
Until now.
The Return of the Forgotten
It began with a tremble in the stars.
A crack in space.
And through it came two presences, drifting silently, unseen by satellites, unrecorded by science.
The White Dragon — its translucent form woven of mist and silver breath.
The Black Dragon — cracked and glowing, its golden light leaking through fractures of cosmic rage.
They did not roar.
They simply arrived.
And Earth did not know.
But someone beneath the crust… felt them.
The Lion's Dream
Deep in the molten layers of the planet's heart, the lion's soul rested.
For centuries upon centuries, it had remained still — a golden presence curled in eternal sleep.
Its last roar had shaken galaxies.
Its death had formed balance.
Now, it stirred.
Its mane — now only spirit — shifted with pressure. Its tail flicked once in dream.
It felt them.
The dragons.
"They're near…"
But the lion did not rise.
It only turned once in its sleep.
A warning. A breath. Nothing more.
The Heirs of Power
Above the Earth, the dragons circled slowly — no longer enemies, but not allies.
They weren't here to destroy yet.
They were searching.
Not for beasts. Not for armies.
For souls.
The White Dragon turned toward the east — where rivers flowed gently and the wind whispered through trees.
There, in a modest city, it felt a girl whose aura radiated quiet clarity.
Soft. Strong. Unyielding.
"She does not seek power."
"That is why she deserves it."
The Black Dragon focused on a different pulse.
A boy surrounded by lights, sound, labor, pressure — yet somehow alone.
His aura burned deep crimson, like coals refusing to fade.
Not evil. Not yet. But on the edge.
"He resists everything… even himself."
"Good. Let's see if he survives."
A Destiny Reignited
Far below, the lion's tail curled tighter.
The world above was changing again.
And this time, gods were watching.
One girl.
One boy.
One sleeping beast.
The war had not begun.
But its first echoes had arrived.
Final Line:
Above Earth, in the auroras no one noticed, two dragons circled.
Below, in cities and homes, two teens went to school — unaware of the souls now watching them.
And in the core of the world, the lion dreamt of stars.
To be continued ...