Darkness surrounded the child.
Thick.
Silent.
Endless.
The hidden passage was narrow and cold, carved deep beneath the royal palace. Faint torchlight flickered along the stone walls, barely illuminating the path ahead.
The baby lay quietly on the ground.
Alone.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
No movement.
No sound.
Only the distant echoes of battle rumbling somewhere above.
Then—
The child blinked.
Slowly.
His silver eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.
Calm.
Unafraid.
Watching.
Deep inside his mind—
The ancient voice spoke again.
Cold.
Mechanical.
Emotionless.
"Primary guardian lost."
A brief pause.
Then—
"Evaluating survival options."
Above the passage—
The palace burned.
Flames spread rapidly through the corridors, devouring curtains, furniture, and wooden beams. Thick smoke filled the air as soldiers shouted orders and servants ran in panic.
Explosions echoed across the fortress.
Glass shattered.
Stone cracked.
The kingdom was descending into chaos.
Outside the palace walls—
The night sky glowed orange.
Citizens gathered in the streets, staring in horror at the burning towers.
"What is happening?" one man shouted.
"The palace is on fire!" another cried.
Fear spread through the crowd like wildfire.
Inside the underground passage—
The baby suddenly moved.
A small hand lifted slightly.
His fingers curled.
Then—
The stone floor beneath him trembled.
Very lightly.
Very briefly.
A faint pulse of energy spread outward from his body.
Soft.
Gentle.
Guiding.
The torch flames along the tunnel flickered.
Then steadied.
Their light grew brighter.
As if responding to his presence.
The child slowly turned his head.
His glowing eyes focused on the path ahead.
Toward the darkness.
Toward survival.
Moments later—
Heavy footsteps echoed through the tunnel behind him.
Fast.
Urgent.
Dangerous.
A group of armored soldiers appeared at the far end of the passage, their torches casting long shadows along the walls.
Their leader stepped forward, scanning the ground carefully.
"There are signs of movement," he said.
His voice was sharp.
Suspicious.
"Search the tunnel."
The soldiers spread out immediately.
Weapons drawn.
Eyes alert.
They moved cautiously, following the narrow path deeper into the passage.
One of the soldiers suddenly stopped.
His torchlight landed on a small figure lying on the ground ahead.
His eyes widened.
"There!" he shouted.
The others rushed forward instantly.
Their footsteps thundered through the tunnel.
Closer.
Closer.
The baby remained still.
Silent.
Watching.
The soldiers surrounded him within seconds.
One of them knelt down carefully, studying the child's glowing eyes.
His face turned pale.
"It's him," he whispered.
"The forbidden child."
A tense silence followed.
Fear crept into the soldiers' expressions.
They had heard the stories.
The warnings.
The prophecy.
Their leader stepped forward slowly.
His hand tightened around his sword.
"We must finish this," he said.
He raised his weapon.
The blade caught the torchlight, shining cold and sharp.
The other soldiers held their breath.
The moment stretched.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Then—
The baby's eyes flashed.
A sudden gust of wind surged through the tunnel.
The torches flickered wildly.
The ground shook violently beneath their feet.
Cracks spread across the stone walls.
Dust rained from the ceiling.
The soldiers staggered backward in shock.
"What is happening?!" one of them shouted.
The air grew heavier.
Harder to breathe.
Harder to move.
The leader tried to step forward.
But his legs refused.
His body froze.
Locked in place.
Fear filled his eyes.
Real fear.
A low rumble echoed deep within the tunnel.
Slow.
Powerful.
Unstoppable.
Then—
The ceiling collapsed.
BOOM.
Stone crashed down from above, slamming into the ground between the soldiers and the child.
Dust exploded into the air.
Debris filled the tunnel.
The path was blocked.
Silence followed.
Broken only by the sound of falling rubble.
The soldiers stared in disbelief at the collapsed passage.
Their path to the child was gone.
Sealed.
The baby lay safely on the other side of the fallen stones.
Untouched.
Protected.
Alive.
Slowly—
The dust settled.
The rumbling stopped.
The tunnel grew quiet once more.
The soldiers exchanged nervous glances.
None of them dared to move.
None of them dared to speak.
Finally—
Their leader lowered his sword.
His voice trembled slightly.
"This child…"
He swallowed hard.
"…is cursed."
Far above—
The palace tower collapsed into flames.
A massive explosion echoed across the kingdom.
Fire lit the night sky.
The royal palace — once the symbol of power — was falling.
Deep inside the tunnel—
The baby's silver eyes dimmed again.
The strange pressure faded.
The danger passed.
And the ancient voice inside his mind spoke once more.
Cold.
Steady.
Certain.
"Escape successful."
A brief pause.
Then—
"Next objective: survive."