An asteroid came crashing down from the sky, slamming into the earth with a force that shattered the quiet morning. The explosion sent shockwaves rippling through the forest for miles. Dust and dirt erupted like a volcano. Trees bent violently under the pressure, birds scattered in flocks, and animals bolted in terror. The sky groaned as if the heavens themselves had been wounded.
Something had just arrived-and it wasn't friendly.
A lone man stood nearby. He was tall, cloaked in dark fabric that flapped in the wind like an omen. His wooden staff tapped against the ground with each step as he moved slowly toward the smoking crater. His eyes, sharp and calm, locked on the heart of the blast. Flames danced around the edges of the impact zone, and smoke curled into the clouds like writhing serpents.
From the shattered core, a strange humanoid figure rose. Its body was twisted and partly skeletal, glowing faintly as if it were caught between this world and the next. It didn't speak. It didn't roar. It just stared with glowing, soulless eyes.
The man didn't flinch.
He raised his left hand and from his palm, golden chains burst forth. They shimmered with power, illuminating the surrounding smoke. The chains wrapped around the creature like angry serpents, binding its limbs, choking its movements. It shrieked and thrashed violently, but the chains were relentless. The creature was dragged forward against its will, claws digging into the ground, until without warning it vanished into the man's palm, absorbed completely.
Silence returned.
The man lowered his hand. Smoke curled from his skin. Where the creature had vanished, a small white orb pulsed, radiating warmth yet surrounded by a thin mist of black corruption.
He turned.
A young boy stood nearby, frozen in awe and fear. His knees trembled. He had watched everything. His eyes wide as moons.
The man walked to him and held out the orb.
"Take it."
The boy hesitated-but something inside him said he had to. He reached out, and the moment his fingers touched the orb, it surged into his chest like lightning. He screamed. Light exploded around him. The pain was unbearable, like fire and ice slicing through his veins.
Then silence.
A strange mark burned onto his skin: a circle with six wings attached, encased in a triangular shape. He dropped to his knees, panting, sweat dripping from his brow.
From a distance-clang! Swords collided. Bang! Cannon's roared.
The vision repeated. Again, the same orb. Another boy. Another battlefield. A chain of destiny unraveling itself across time.
A white flash. Then nothing.
7:00 AM.
The alarm clock never got a chance. Eve a (dryad), Luke's ever-energetic caretaker/aunt, crashed into the room like a tornado.
"Luke! Wake up! Breakfast is dying!"
From under the covers, a groan emerged. "Let it die... Let it rest in peace..."
Eve rolled her eyes. "You say that every morning!"
A second voice entered the chaos-calm, sharp, and slightly menacing.
"Stop whining."
Maya a dark elf also his caretaker/aunt, stood at the door holding a towel and a bucket of water. Her long silver hair shimmered in the morning light, and her piercing eyes made it clear-she was not in the mood.
"We'll wash you if you don't get up."
Luke bolted upright like a soldier hearing a cannon shot.
Eve giggled from the doorway. "He fears the bucket more than demons."
Downstairs, the living room looked like a hangout for war veterans in denial. Three men slouched on the couch like tired dads from a fantasy sitcom. Michie, Rhody, and Zacky-once powerful bishops of the ancient light-now mostly jobless and mildly cranky.
Eve peeked in. "Any luck at the guild?"
Zacky caught a bread roll she tossed and shrugged. "Nope. Not even a slime sighting."
"Demons aren't opening enough portals," Michie grumbled, eyes still closed. "What's with that? Did they go on strike or something?"
Rhody nodded solemnly. "I told you. They unionized. Now they take weekends off."
Luke walked past them, fully dressed for school and shaking his head. These three weren't just goofs. They were guardians-retired, but dangerous when needed. They lived in his house, protected him, trained him, and somehow made his life feel like an anime with no budget.
Money wasn't great. Most portals were random, and guild jobs were rare. Creatures like goblins, trolls, or ogres occasionally slipped through. But it was the black portals-the demon ones-that posed the real threat. Those had grown scarce lately. Suspiciously so.
After a rushed breakfast, Luke grabbed his bag. He attended the Caelora National University, CNU for short. A place that taught math, history, and how to fight dragons without dying. Most students had either magical aptitude or weapon skills. Luke had... hope.
Brand new to the school, fresh out of elementary, Luke still wasn't used to the idea that "combat" and "science class" could happen in the same sentence. Gym class might involve dodging fireballs or sparring with swords.
That afternoon, Luke came home dragging his feet, exhausted.
Maya was waiting in the backyard.
"Training. Now."
Luke blinked. "Wait-I just got back!"
"No excuses. Grab the wooden blades."
He sighed, grumbling as he picked up a sword. "Can't I just train with a spellbook or something?"
"You'll need both." Maya stepped forward and raised her weapon. "But today, it's blades."
Luke muttered under his breath. "Please be gentle... this is my first time..."
Maya smirked. "Don't worry. It only hurts a little."
At that exact moment-
"WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON?!"
Eve burst through the back door wielding a ladle like a holy relic, her eyes wide with panic. She stopped cold at the sight of them mid-duel, sweat glistening, breathing hard.
"...Oh."
Everyone froze.
Maya lowered her sword. "We're training."
Eve blinked, still holding the ladle like a weapon. "Okay. Cool. Maybe next time... use less suspicious dialogue?"
Luke collapsed on the grass, defeated by both the training and the embarrassment.
At night, far away, in the silent peaks of the southern mountains, something stirred.
A black portal opened. Slowly. Like a wound being peeled apart.
A figure emerged-female, elegant, and deadly, a succubus.
She smiled, brushing ash from her crimson hair. Her eyes scanned the world like a hunter spotting prey.
"Let the sucking begin," she whispered.
The next day at 7 a.m. Luke was unceremoniously ripped out of his cozy dreamland by a slap-not just any slap, but a divine whack to the butt, loud and stinging enough to echo through the room. Courtesy of Maya.
"Wake up, warrior! You mustn't be late for school!" she declared with the urgency of a drill sergeant in full battle mode, towering over him with her hands on her hips and her foot tapping in rhythm to her irritation. Her black leggings and sleeveless tunic fluttered slightly from the breeze through the open window, but her expression remained stern.
Luke groaned from the depths of his bed, his face smashed into his pillow like a defeated gladiator refusing to get up. "Aaaaaooouch! Why can't I just have one wonderful dream? Just one peaceful, uninterrupted dream with no surprise beatings?"
Maya didn't flinch. She folded her arms across her chest, her emerald eyes as flat and unmoved as a cliff face. "A true warrior can't be this vulnerable. If you keep this up, you'll eventually die in your sleep. And it won't be from old age."
Luke rolled over and curled up tighter, cocooning himself like a deflated burrito trying to preserve warmth and dignity. "Then just let me die. Peacefully. Preferably without elvish assault in the morning... aaouch..."
Downstairs, the morning routine unfolded with more civility-at least at first. The scent of toasted bread and fresh eggs filled the air. Zacky sat at the dining table chewing his toast, eyes half-lidded with drowsiness, when suddenly he stopped mid-bite. His hand froze halfway to his mouth. Something shifted in the air.
His expression changed.
"Anyone sense that?" Zacky asked, slowly setting his toast down.
Everyone went still. Michie, seated at the other end of the table with a mug of steaming tea, froze in place. Rhody looked up from the newspaper, sensing the sudden tension.
Michie narrowed his eyes. His tone turned soft, almost reverent. "It's been years since I felt this much presence..."
Zacky pushed his plate aside and stood up, his voice sharp now. "Maya, keep an eye on Luke's school today. If you feel the presence getting closer, call us immediately. Understood?"
Maya, now dressed and brushing her gloves on, nodded firmly. "Understood."
Luke, having just entered the room and heard the tail end of the conversation, raised an eyebrow. "Wait... she's gonna walk me to school?"
Zacky raised an eyebrow of his own, folding his arms. "No."
"Please, Uncle Zack!" Luke fell to his knees in an exaggerated gesture of desperation. He clasped his hands together like a monk begging for divine mercy. "I need the training! Plus-she can protect me up close if things go crazy again!"
Maya blinked, clearly caught off guard. She looked away, pretending to inspect her gloves. "W-well, I guess I could... possibly... maybe just walk him part of the way?"
Zacky groaned and rubbed his temples. He wasn't sure which of them was more stubborn. "Fine. Do whatever you want."
Luke sprang up with triumphant glee, while Maya nodded with composed approval. Though they were both excited, their reasons couldn't be more different.
For Maya, this was a chance to observe his progress and sharpen his instincts.
For Luke, it was a ticket to social stardom. Having a stunning dark elf at your side-even for a few blocks-was the kind of thing that turned an ordinary student into a walking legend. Elves were rare. Their portals to Earth opened only once a year, and even then, few lingered. Being close to one? That was like getting the golden ticket in a fantasy world crossover anime.
On their way to school, they trained openly on the street-clashing wooden swords with quick strikes and dodges. Commuters stared as they passed, some whispering, others pulling out their phones to record.
That's when Luke saw her.
Alicia.
The Lightning Angel.
Blonde, elegant, and glowing as always. Her presence lit up the street, drawing gasps from passing students. She walked with grace, flanked by a small crowd of adoring boys. Her mana shimmered faintly in the air around her, crackling like soft lightning. Sometimes, she even grew wings-actual wings of condensed light, dazzling and terrifying.
And yes-Luke had history with her.
Two confessions.
Two rejections.
Flashback One - 4th Grade:
Outside of their school at the side of the gate.
Luke gulped.
"Alicia, I... I really like you. Like, not just as a friend. Will you be my-?"
She didn't even let him finish.
"No," she said flatly. "Don't waste my time."
Then she turned around and walked off, ponytail swaying like a war banner.
Flashback Two - 6th Grade:
The same place as before.
It was the last week of classes. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the schoolyard. Luke stood behind the gym building, clutching a bouquet of wild mana flowers, awkwardly taped together and slightly wilted from the heat.
He waited.
Alicia arrived, arms still crossed, expression unreadable but already halfway annoyed.
"I still like you," Luke said quietly, almost pleading. "I never stopped. Maybe this time-"
She looked at the flowers, then back at him. Her voice was cool, sharp like a blade drawn clean from its sheath.
"Still no," she said. "I'm not interested in feelings. Especially not yours."
While the other boys practically worshipped her, Luke told himself he didn't care anymore. That he had moved on. That he wasn't affected. He even managed to convince everyone else.
Except himself.
He was still staring when Maya suddenly appeared behind him like a shadow.
"Focus, or you'll definitely die in a real fight."
Without another word, she tapped him on the back of the head with her wooden sword. Luke winced.
"Ow! Why is that your solution to everything?"
The school bell rang in the distance. Students began flowing through the gates like a tidal wave of backpacks and sleepy faces. Maya vanished almost instantly, leaping to the rooftop and crouching there in stealth mode. She blended in with the shadows like a panther, her eyes trained on every movement.
The morning sun warms the stone walls of the classroom. Students settle into their seats, still rubbing sleep from their eyes. The room smells faintly of chalk, old books, and someone's forgotten mana fruit. At the front stands Professor Calderon, a tall man with streaks of silver in his beard and a cane carved from a dragon's fang. He taps the holo-board to life with a quiet hum.
Professor Calderon:
"Good morning, everyone. Today, we're diving into the history of something that defines our world-portals. I know, you see them every day on your way to school, near the plaza, beside the train station... but they weren't always just part of the scenery."
He walks slowly, cane tapping against the floor.
Professor Calderon:
"Portals have been appearing since the Stone Age. That's right, long before technology, long before spells had names. Back then, when one of these vertical glowing rifts appeared on the ground, tribes would either flee or worship it."
"Sometimes people disappeared into them. Sometimes things came out. And over time, humans learned that these weren't just anomalies. They were gateways to other dimensions."
He gestures to the holo-board. A layered image of Earth appears, surrounded by glowing dimensional rings.
Professor Calderon:
"These other worlds, stacked, scattered, twisted, are home to all sorts of beings. When we started understanding them, it changed everything."
"From the brighter realms came the elves, graceful and wise. The dwarves followed, proud, brilliant with tools and stone. Then came the lizard men, born from burning wetlands, fierce and proud. And of course, the beastkin-catfolk, wolf tribes, and many others from worlds where fur and fang ruled."
"And yes, even the dragons. No, they don't walk among us wearing cloaks or human skin. They don't need to. When a dragon speaks, you listen. Their voices alone carry the weight of centuries."
Students murmur. A few glance nervously at the dragon emblem carved above the classroom door.
Professor Calderon nods.
Professor Calderon:
"Nowadays, portals are normal. Stable ones stay open for decades, and cities have grown around them. Some have become massive trading centers, where elves barter enchanted cloth, dwarves sell rune-steel, and beastkin bring rare herbs or crafts from their homelands."
"You're all used to that. But we had to adapt to survive first."
The board changes to show a sleek machine.
Professor Calderon:
"Humans developed machines that can scan a portal the moment it opens, to identify what's coming out. That's saved countless lives. Because while some portals bring allies, others bring danger."
"Goblins. Slimes. Nightmare beasts. Things that can tear apart a village if left unchecked. That's why we have adventurers and hunters. They don't just fight for gold. They fight for the safety of civilians."
He looks around the room, tone more serious now.
Professor Calderon:
"Killing dangerous creatures pays well, but you need proof. These days, adventurers carry cameras-enchanted or tech-based-to record kills. Before cameras? They brought back parts. Ears, claws, cores. Messy work, but it kept the peace."
The board flickers and darkens. A new image appears, a swirling black portal, vertical and jagged like a scar in the earth.
Professor Calderon lowers his voice.
Professor Calderon:
"And then there's this. Black portals. If you ever see one of these, run. Only demons use black portals. Every record, every historian, every hunter agrees. No other race uses them."
"When a black portal opens, it means something is crawling through that wants to destroy, corrupt, or consume. That's why guilds exist. That's why laws allow lethal force on sight. We do not take chances with black portals."
He looks out at the class, pausing for effect.
Professor Calderon:
"You were born into this world where races, magic, and machines share space. It feels normal. But make no mistake, this peace is only possible because people bled for it, studied for it, and died for it."
Back at the house, Eve had been given a special task. She raised her hand near the edge of the forest and began whispering in a long-forgotten tongue. The ground trembled, and vines erupted from the soil. Not just any vines-these were alive with ancient hunger. They slithered like serpents, twitching and sniffing the air, waiting for the scent of demonic flesh.
Far to the south, where the sky was darker and the air heavier, bishops clad in white ceremonial robes stood near the ruins of the black portal. Hunters in armor flanked them, weapons at the ready. The area was quiet-too quiet. The kind of quiet that made your skin crawl.
The bishops exchanged a glance. Without a word, they lifted their hands in unison and began the Purifying Ritual. Words of divine power flowed from their lips. Light sparked and swirled. The air crackled with energy until the portal sealed shut with a sound like thunder trapped in a cage.
But the demon that came through earlier?
Gone.
No trace. No tracks. Nothing.
Somewhere out there, it was waiting. Watching. Homeless, but not defeated.
Meanwhile, Luke sat in his classroom, his chin resting in his hand as the teacher rambled on about magical ethics or historical conflicts-he wasn't sure. He blinked sluggishly, halfway between sleep and boredom.
A tap on his shoulder pulled him back to reality.
"Hey, Luke, right? Who was that elf you were walking with this morning?"
Luke smirked slightly and leaned back in his seat, attempting the most mysterious voice he could manage. "Oh, just a friend of mine... or is it?"
The boy looked completely confused. "Uh... what?"
Luke turned around again with a satisfied grin.
Later that day, the class moved outside for physical training. Rows of students lined up, each holding wooden swords. The instructor gave brief orders and paired them off. Maya, still perched on the rooftop above, crouched low like a hawk watching her prey. She narrowed her eyes, eager to see if Luke had been slacking or secretly improving.
His opponent stood tall, confident, and grinning. A bigger guy, with more muscle and more experience. Most students expected Luke to get flattened like dough.
The match began.
Luke charged in first. Bold, maybe even reckless.
But he dodged a blow. Struck back. Side-stepped again. He flowed through the motions like he had rehearsed them a thousand times.
And with sheer luck, somehow... he won.
Everyone stared in shock as his opponent dropped their sword. Luke stood victorious, wooden sword pointed down like a warrior at rest, trying to look as relaxed and smug as possible.
On the inside?
"Oh God. Oh no. I'm very scared. I think I'm going to piss myself. Was that real? Did I just win? Don't pass out. Don't pass out. Smile. Look cool. Smile."
Above, Maya smiled.
She saw everything. She saw the effort, the discipline, the hesitation buried beneath the confidence.
And she also knew...
His training was about to get a whole lot harder.