"In one day, how many times have I been knocked out?" This question ran repeatedly through Alex's mind as he stared into the void of darkness.
After losing consciousness from the fight, he now found himself in a familiar place. It was the same dark space he had been in before, the one where he had seen an unfamiliar scene.
"If I'm back here, does that mean I'll be shown another memory?" Alex wondered to himself. His thoughts were calm, almost detached. He wasn't concerned whether he was alive or dead—it didn't matter in that moment.
Just as this idea took shape in his mind, the dark surroundings around him began to crack. Fine lines spread through the black void like glass shattering. Small rays of light passed through the gaps, piercing the darkness. The cracks grew wider, and soon, the entire space around him crumbled away.
The blackness broke apart entirely, and Alex found himself standing in a new environment. A strange background replaced the void.
Thick trees towered around him, their trunks wide and gnarled, surrounded by dense vines that tangled among the underbrush. He was in the middle of a dense forest. The scent of damp leaves filled the air, and the faint rustling of unseen creatures could be heard.
"This place... it doesn't look like there's a war happening here," Alex thought as he slowly turned his head, taking in his surroundings. The sky above him was dark, but the full moon hung overhead, casting a dim, pale light over the forest. The silver glow illuminated the tops of the trees and gave him just enough visibility to see the outline of his immediate surroundings.
Alex squinted his eyes and focused, his mind still trying to process the change. Then, out of nowhere, a bright yellow light appeared, materializing just a few feet in front of him. It was faint at first but quickly grew in intensity. The light started to gather itself, swirling and forming into a tight sphere. Alex watched as it slowly expanded, its glow lighting up the area around him more clearly.
He blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the brightness.
Suddenly, the sphere of light burst outward, and instead of fading away, it transformed into a glowing ring suspended in the air. The light from the ring was almost blinding, and Alex instinctively raised his arm to shield his face.
"Wait… I can feel the light?" Alex murmured under his breath, surprised. He hadn't been sure if he could sense anything in this strange place, but the warmth from the light and the way it pressed against his skin confirmed that he could feel.
His curiosity quickly shifted, though, as something began to emerge from the ring. No—someone.
The ring pulsed, and out from it tumbled several figures. Alex's eyes widened as he watched a young adult followed by five kids, barely into their teens, fall through the ring of light. They didn't step through but rather were pushed or thrown from the other side. They fell roughly onto the forest floor, hitting the ground hard with grunts and gasps. The leaves crunched under their weight, scattering beneath them as they landed.
One of the kids, the smallest of the group, scrambled back to his feet almost instantly. He stumbled for a moment, his legs shaky, but then he dashed toward the light. His movements were frantic, desperate, as if he wanted to leap back into the glowing ring.
Before he could get close, though, the light began to flicker and dim. Within seconds, the ring disappeared entirely, leaving nothing but the dark forest behind.
"No, no, no!" the boy cried, reaching out to the spot where the ring had been. His hand grasped at the empty air, but there was nothing left to hold onto. His shoulders slumped, and he clenched his fist tightly at his side.
"Where are we?" one of the other kids asked, still sitting on the ground. His voice was shaky, a mix of confusion and fear. He looked around, his wide eyes scanning the trees and the dark sky.
"Dammit!" the boy who had rushed toward the light yelled. His voice echoed through the forest. He turned back toward the group, his expression hardened with anger and frustration. "The elders… they threw us out!"
The other kids exchanged uneasy glances, their faces pale in the moonlight.
"Come on," the boy continued, taking a deep breath to calm himself. His fists were still clenched, his knuckles white from the pressure. "We need to get back to them. We can't stay here!"
"It's useless, Peter. We've been teleported, and I don't have the means to open another portal. What we should do now is find out where we are and look for a place to stay for the time being," the young-looking Rooney said, his voice calm but firm.
As soon as Rooney finished speaking, a sudden burst of crying echoed from the side. It was from the only girl in their group, and she was sobbing uncontrollably.
"The... The... others... we... we..." she tried to speak through her tears, but her words were broken and hard to understand. She was trembling, overwhelmed by the situation. Rooney, noticing her distress, walked over to her, his movements slow and gentle.
"Don't cry, little Cressida," Rooney said softly as he knelt down beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a comforting hug. "I promise I'll take care of you," he whispered. His voice was soothing, and gradually, Cressida's sobs began to quiet down. She leaned into him, finding solace in his embrace.
Peter, who had been watching, finally spoke up. He was the most outspoken of the group and wasn't one to stay silent for long. "So, what now? What are we going to do?" he asked, his voice filled with both curiosity and impatience.
Rooney looked at him, his expression thoughtful. "We find a place to stay first," he answered, standing up slowly and helping Cressida to her feet. "After that, I'll try to look into things. Hopefully, the others made it out." His tone was reassuring, though a hint of uncertainty lingered in his eyes.
With that, the group of kids began to make their way through the thick, overgrown forest. The ground beneath them was uneven, covered in roots and fallen branches that crunched beneath their feet as they navigated through the trees. The sound of rustling leaves and distant animal calls filled the air, making the forest feel alive around them.
Alex stood off to the side, watching everything unfold silently. He hadn't been noticed by the others, but he was deeply absorbed in the scene before him.
'This boy was just called Peter,' Alex thought to himself. 'Does that mean this is a memory related to them?'
He was about to follow the group when, just like before, the surroundings around him began to crack. The trees, the ground, the sky—everything started to break apart like shattered glass. In an instant, the forest disappeared, and Alex found himself standing in what looked like a playground.
Children were running all over the place, laughing and playing. The sounds of their joyful cries and footsteps echoed in the open air. Swings creaked as kids took turns swinging back and forth, while others chased each other around the jungle gym.
Alex scanned the playground, his eyes searching for something—or someone—though he wasn't sure what exactly. As he turned his head, he suddenly heard a voice call out from the distance.
"Hey, brother Peter! Join us!" a kid shouted, waving excitedly.
Alex looked in the direction of the voice and saw little Peter, surrounded by a group of kids. They crowded around him, tugging at his sleeves, trying to pull him into their games. But Peter shook his head, clearly uninterested.
"I told you guys, I'm not in the mood to play," little Peter said, his voice flat. He gently pushed through the group of kids, his eyes darting around the playground as if he were searching for someone.
Alex followed Peter's gaze, curious about who he was looking for. After a moment, Peter's eyes locked onto something—or rather, someone. Sitting alone in the far corner of the playground was another boy, quiet and distant from the others.
Peter walked over to the boy, his steps slow and thoughtful. When he reached him, he sat down beside him on the ground. The two boys sat in silence for a moment, the noise of the other kids fading into the background.
"I'm worried," Peter said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Me too," the other boy replied, his eyes still fixed on the ground in front of him. There was a heaviness in his voice, a deep sense of unease. "It's been days since Uncle Rooney left, and he hasn't come back yet. What if something happened to him?"
Peter didn't respond immediately. He stared ahead, his face tense with concern. The wind blew gently across the playground, rustling the leaves of the nearby trees.
"Come on, Stan. You know he's stronger than you think," Peter said, his tone serious but gentle.
Little Stan wanted to argue further, but before he could, a sudden yell from one of the other kids caught their attention.
"Uncle Rooney is back!" a kid shouted excitedly. The playground instantly erupted into a flurry of motion as the children scrambled to leave their games behind. They rushed towards the gate, their footsteps pounding against the ground, eager to see the man who had just returned.
Stan and Peter exchanged a quick glance before sprinting towards the gate themselves. Their hearts were racing, both from the sudden news and the anticipation of what Uncle Rooney might have discovered. As they reached the gate, they slowed down, catching sight of a tall, cloaked figure standing just outside.
The man was wearing a wide-brimmed hat, and his long cloak fluttered slightly in the wind. When he saw the children gathering, he reached up and slowly removed his hat, revealing his face. It was Rooney. His expression was calm, though there was a heaviness in his eyes that the children couldn't quite place.
Stan, always the quickest to speak, stepped forward first. "Did you find anything?" he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and fear.
Rooney looked at him for a moment before shaking his head. "Unfortunately, I was unable to find the elders," he said, his voice steady but tinged with regret. "I fear they may not have made it out alive."
A quiet murmur spread through the group of children. Some of them lowered their heads, while others exchanged worried glances. Stan's face fell, and Peter shifted uncomfortably beside him.
"But," Rooney continued, his tone softening slightly, "they seemed to have left something precious for us." He reached into the folds of his cloak and carefully pulled out a small, worn book. Its leather cover was cracked with age, and it looked as though it had been passed down through many generations.
The children's eyes widened in curiosity as they looked at the book. They didn't fully understand what Rooney meant, but the book itself seemed important, almost sacred.
Suddenly, just as Alex had been watching everything unfold, the world around him began to shift again. The playground and the children faded away, and in the blink of an eye, he found himself in a different place.
He was now in a cozy sitting room. The walls were lined with wooden shelves filled with old, dusty books. There was a large fireplace on one side of the room, casting a soft glow across the space. Seated in a circle on the floor were five children, including Stan and Peter, and with them was a young adult, Rooney, sitting cross-legged with the mysterious book in his lap.
"Uncle, what is that book you found today?" Stan asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. The other children looked up at Rooney, clearly wondering the same thing but too nervous to ask.
Rooney glanced down at the book in his hands and then back at the kids. "This," he said, holding the book up slightly, "is a family diary. It contains the knowledge and techniques our forefathers have gathered over generations. It also holds many secrets about this world."
The children stared at him, their faces a mix of confusion and wonder. Even though Rooney had explained it, most of them still didn't fully grasp the importance of the book or the secrets it held. It was clear from their wide-eyed expressions that only a few of them truly understood the weight of his words.
"How will this help us in our situation?" Peter asked, his voice filled with curiosity and a hint of skepticism.
Rooney's eyes sparkled with conviction as he replied, "With this knowledge, we can grow stronger than ever before. We will harness the wisdom of the past, the wisdom of the ancient dragons." Hearing this, the children's spirits lifted, and a newfound sense of hope spread among them.
"If that happens, I want to kill those people. I want them all dead, just like they did to our fathers," exclaimed Cressida, the youngest among them, her voice trembling with anger and determination.
A bright smile appeared on Rooney's face, his resolve unwavering. "Don't worry, Cressida. We will never forget. We will pay back those nine realm bastards, but first, we need to become stronger," Rooney assured her, his voice steady and reassuring.
Turning to Stan, Rooney commanded, "Stan, step forward. It's time for you to take your role in this family. It's time for you to become a Keybreaker."
"Keybreaker? Why does that word sound so familiar?" wondered Alex, who had been silently observing everything unfold.
Suddenly, at that very moment, the world around Alex began to shatter like glass. However, instead of finding himself in a new scene, as he expected, he found himself in a hospital room. Hue's eyes fluttered open on the hospital bed, and he sat up quickly, scanning the room.
The surroundings were familiar, and as Alex looked at his own body, he realized there was no pain. Yet, his mind was consumed by another thought.
'Perhaps the first time, I might have said it was a dream. However, for a dream to continue from where it stopped, I haven't heard of such things. This must be a memory, a memory of what happened to Stan and the others,' Alex pondered, deep in thought.
But one question lingered in his mind. "Just who are the Pendragons?"