Deep within the most dilapidated corner of Lumina, in a graveyard that seemed forgotten and forsaken, a young boy emerged from an underground coffin, pushing himself upward with an unknown force and finally setting foot on the solid ground.

His breaths came in rapid gasps, and his mind reeled with confusion as he gazed upon his own burial plot. 

Thoughts raced through his head as he darted his gaze left and right, struggling to comprehend the puzzling situation. The desolate graveyard surrounded him, engulfed in darkness that hinted at the lateness of the hour.

Reeling from disbelief, he stumbled backward, his mind grappling to accept the implausible truth: he had somehow returned to life after being shot. 

Memories of his fatal fall replayed in his mind, and standing before his own grave seemed like irrefutable proof of his demise.

His gaze dropped to his tattered shirt, stained with his own blood. A bitter thought crossed his mind: "They provided me with a coffin but neglected to change my clothes. Those bastards!"

Sliding a trembling hand beneath his shirt, he discovered that the wound inflicted by the bullet had miraculously healed.

A furrow formed on his brow, and he scrutinized his hand with a mix of astonishment and bewilderment. "What is this?" he muttered, his voice tinged with confusion.

He couldn't help but wonder, "What in the world is happening to me?"

"Devon Blackwood!" The sudden call jolted him, and he swiftly turned to find himself taken aback by the presence of three men in opulent suits standing before him.

His brows furrowed as he assessed them with suspicion. "Who on earth are you?" he demanded.

The most imposing among them, exuding an air of authority, replied in a deep, resonant voice, "I am your uncle, Declan Blackwood."

Devon's confusion deepened, his gaze still fixed upon the trio. "Blackwood? Blackwood Legacy?" he uttered incredulously.

Declan affirmed with a nod. "Indeed, Devon."

Devon remained bewildered. Why would the esteemed figure, Lord Declan Blackwood, appear before him at his own grave? And why did he refer to him as a Blackwood? That wasn't his surname.

Nevertheless, disbelief washed over him as he slowly comprehended that he stood before the most affluent family in the entire country.

The Blackwood Legacy, an unmatched powerhouse in Lumina's corporate realm, stood as the unrivaled titan of wealth, boasting a staggering net worth surpassing five zillion dollars. Their dominance extended across various sectors, encompassing technology, finance, manufacturing, and media.

With an unwavering hold on the market, the Blackwood Legacy commanded both reverence and trepidation, leaving competitors and allies alike in awe. Their very presence in the business landscape compelled other companies to seek partnerships, alliances, and endorsements, longing to bask in the immense influence emanating from their name.

Beyond their unimaginable riches, the Blackwood Legacy shaped the very future of Lumina's economy. Their name alone sent chills down spines, serving as a constant reminder of the insurmountable power wielded by this formidable family.

Devon gazed at the trio, a nagging sense of unease gripping him, but unable to discern the source.

"And how may I help you?" Devon inquired cautiously, mindful not to provoke their wrath, fully aware of the family's ruthless reputation towards those who opposed them.

Declan's gaze shifted from the open grave to Devon's bloodstained shirt, sighing deeply before remarking, "This happened too quickly. You just had to get yourself killed, didn't you?"

Devon's brows furrowed, growing increasingly perplexed by the man's words. "What do you mean?"

Walking nearer, Declan abruptly lifted Devon's shirt, exposing his torso. "This. You should have looked away, Devon. What if you lacked the means to cheat death? It would have spelled your demise," he seethed, his anger palpable, pushing Devon with enough force to nearly send him tumbling back into the grave.

Devon exhaled deeply, summoning all his willpower to quell his mounting anger as he confronted the man eye to eye. Despite his young age of seventeen, Devon stood at an impressive six feet tall, allowing him to meet the man's gaze despite the slight height advantage.

"Sir, it feels as though you're speaking in riddles," Devon cautiously voiced his frustration. 

Though prone to a short temper, he had learned to restrain his anger, but this encounter tested his limits. 

The man had appeared out of nowhere, assuming familiarity while uttering perplexing words that Devon struggled to comprehend amidst the situation he was already in. Determined to gain clarity, he decided to confront the questions swirling within him all at once.

"Why did you call me Blackwood? How are you my uncle? And how the hell do you know my name—"

Before Devon could finish his sentence, Declan swiftly grasped his chin, his grip icy and his gaze menacing. 

With an air of authority, he interjected, "No profanity when addressing me, boy. Understand that well." Pushing Devon's face with force, Declan casually walked back to join the others, only to turn and face Devon once more.

"There is much about you that remains unknown, Devon, and awakening is merely the first step toward unraveling your true identity. Now, I wouldn't want to spoil the excitement because by the time you wake up tomorrow, you will discover the truth about who you truly are," Declan continued, his voice laden with enigmatic promise.

Devon locked his gaze upon the man, finding himself devoid of further words as the enigmatic figure reveled in his air of authority, leaving Devon with a trail of riddles unanswered.

Declan directed his gaze towards one of the men by his side. "Donald, ensure that no evidence remains to indicate a resurrection occurred in this location."

The man named Donald, whose brown eyes and curly brown hair framed his face, appearing to be six feet tall, acknowledged the instruction with a nod of respect. 

He extended his hands, prompting the earth beneath them to tremble in an instant. 

Devon moved away in astonishment as the ground shifted, and sand poured into the hole from which he had emerged, swiftly covering any trace of his resurrection.

Dusting his hands off, Donald offered Devon a sly wink, his mouth curling into a prideful smirk. The sight left Devon with widened eyes, grappling to comprehend the true nature of these individuals and the extraordinary abilities they possessed.

Declan's gaze fixed upon Devon once more, his words carrying an air of knowing. "I'm certain you know where to find me, Devon."

With those cryptic words lingering in the air, the unnamed companion drew a swirling circle in the air with his finger, birthing a radiant blue portal. Without hesitation, the three figures stepped into the portal, vanishing from sight before it dissipated entirely.

Upon reaching a towering wall, the Blackwood family positioned themselves, with Declan assuming the central seat and the others taking their respective places.

One of the male members of the Blackwood family broke the silence, inquiring, "What shall be our course of action now that Davis's son has awakened? Is it advantageous for him to recollect his true identity?"

Declan remained silent, his expression inscrutable.

Another family member scoffed, "After Donovan's transgressions, violating protocols and sacrificing his Vesperion to spare that boy's life, perhaps we should consider eliminating him once and for all."

Donald regarded the speaker with disbelief. "He's just an innocent child, Danforth."

"Innocent for now, but potentially perilous in the future. I raise this concern for the sake of the Blackwood lineage. We wield great influence in the supernatural realm, and it is our duty to pursue what is right or wrong, regardless of familial ties," Danforth countered, engaging in a heated debate.

Amidst the family members, a woman with silver hair released a sigh and interjected, "Davis's life was never peaceful after marrying Marissa and expecting his own child. We made necessary choices then, decisions that caused Davis to lose everything for the sake of maintaining balance in the world. Now, are we going to terminate his son too, the one Donovan sacrificed himself to bring into existence, his own grandson?"

"Don't be sentimental, Darla. Our duty lies solely in the words: Eradicate. Our motto: Legacy of Guardians, Eradicators of Darkness. Nothing else holds significance. Sacrifices are inevitable. Davis understood that, as did Donovan," countered a red-haired woman, her voice resolute as she surveyed the members assembled. "I concur with Danforth. In order to evade regret, the boy must be eliminated. He exudes a sense of imbalance that unsettles us. It's a darkness."

"The Vesporian granted him life, Dawn. There is nothing dark about it," Donald interjected.

Dawn vehemently disagreed, asserting, "If the boy had perished when he was meant to, Davis would still be alive, and Donovan would be here with us. Things unfold for a reason, don't they?"

Danforth nodded in agreement. "Besides, we cannot foresee what lies ahead for that child."

A hushed silence enveloped the group as each member contemplated the weighty matter at hand, their collective gaze fixed upon Declan, awaiting his decision.

With a sigh, Declan exhaled, having already reached a conclusion. "We shall observe him," he stated bluntly. "As the Legacy of Guardians, Eradicators of Darkness, it would be dishonorable to terminate an innocent child. He must be proven guilty before we consider eradication. He carries the Blackwood name and represents the sole lineage of Davis. Therefore, we must afford him the benefit of the doubt before plunging headlong into action."

A solemn silence prevailed, acknowledging that the words of the Head Guardian held the force of law.

"Now, how fares the veil, Dale?" Declan inquired, directing his attention to Dale, the individual responsible for creating the portal.

Dale responded with a nod, indicating that all was well.

Declan nodded in understanding. "Excellent. We cannot permit a repeat of the events that unfolded nine years ago…"