Caelum never knew his parents.

He had been an orphan since his earliest memory, waking up in an unfamiliar room in an orphanage that barely offered more than the bare minimum for survival. The scent of the damp walls, the creak of the wooden floors, and the constant murmur of other children around him were all that he had ever known. He didn't remember anything before that—no memories of a mother's embrace, no father's guiding hand. Just an emptiness, like a hole where his past should have been.

His life had always been a struggle, one of cold nights, hunger, and the endless cycle of waiting for a better future that never came. Yet, Caelum never seemed to feel the sting of his circumstances. His indifference to the world around him was as natural as breathing. While the other children cried out for attention, affection, or a better life, Caelum would watch them, unmoved, his eyes always seeming to look beyond the walls of the orphanage, as though he were waiting for something—a change, an answer, a new path.

Despite his emotional detachment, Caelum's potential was undeniable. From an early age, the other children noticed his oddities. He was never truly sick, never seemed to tire, and his body always grew stronger, faster, and more capable with each passing day. When he was six, he had already outgrown all the older children in terms of physical ability. By eight, he had effortlessly beaten all the other kids in every contest, whether it be a race, a wrestling match, or even simple tests of strength. But none of it ever mattered to him. The recognition or admiration of others did nothing to stir anything in his heart.

The orphanage caretakers, too, noticed Caelum's strange aura, and some spoke of it in hushed tones. They didn't understand how a child could possess such a presence. It was like he was… different, something more than just an orphaned boy. But they never pushed him. There were no records of his origins, and no one came looking for him.

On his tenth birthday, Caelum's life had changed. That was when he had first heard of the Academy.

The Academy was a place where the children of powerful families—mages, warriors, and nobles—were sent to cultivate their skills, enhance their abilities, and grow into influential figures. It was a dream for many, a golden ticket to a life of power, prestige, and wealth. But not for Caelum. He had never had the desire to leave the orphanage or chase after some idealized future. But the incident that had occurred that night—something beyond human understanding—had sparked a change.

It started with a dream.

Caelum had always dreamed, but on that night, it was different. In his dream, he saw a vast expanse of nothingness, an endless void that stretched as far as the eye could see. There was no sound, no light, no color—just an oppressive stillness. But within that void, Caelum felt something stirring. A presence. A voice, deep and ancient, whispered to him in a language he couldn't comprehend. And yet, somehow, he understood. The voice spoke of destruction, of rebirth, of the end of all things—and the beginning of something new.

When he awoke, his body was pulsing with an unfamiliar power. He could feel it in his veins, in his bones—something… immense, but strange, as though it belonged to him, yet didn't. The very air around him seemed to vibrate with energy, and the world felt different, as though he was seeing it through new eyes.

The other children noticed too. They saw the way Caelum's silver eyes, which had always been dull and apathetic, now glinted with an eerie light. They saw the shadows that seemed to stretch unnaturally around him, as if the very darkness itself were drawn to him.

The next day, Caelum's power manifested.

It happened during a training session with the other orphans. The caretakers had decided to test the children's abilities, as they had begun to suspect that Caelum wasn't just any ordinary child. When it was his turn, he hadn't tried to do anything special. But as soon as he moved, the air around him changed. The earth trembled slightly beneath his feet, and the winds swirled around his body, gathering into a vortex. The ground cracked beneath his feet as though it could no longer bear the weight of his presence.

A child, no older than eight, charged at Caelum in an attempt to tackle him, driven by nothing but the typical desire to prove oneself. But before the boy even reached him, Caelum raised a hand, and the very shadows in the room seemed to react. They surged toward him, coiling like serpents, before blasting the boy backward with an explosive force. He hit the wall hard, collapsing unconscious.

The caretakers had immediately rushed in, wide-eyed, their faces pale. But Caelum had stood there, motionless, unfazed by the chaos he had just unleashed. His eyes had not wavered from their usual cold indifference.

That was the moment Caelum knew something had changed inside him. Something that marked him as different. He was no longer just another orphan with untapped potential. He was something… more.

But even after this, he didn't care. The world continued as it always had, and Caelum, while gifted with immense power, never desired fame or recognition. It wasn't until a few months later, when a recruiter from the Academy visited the orphanage, that Caelum's path would begin to change.

The recruiter had come to evaluate potential candidates for the Academy. Caelum had been one of the last children called in. He hadn't even bothered to prepare, still indifferent as ever, thinking little of what the recruiter might see in him. After all, what was there for him to prove?

But when the recruiter examined Caelum's abilities—when he felt the strange, almost dangerous energy emanating from the boy—the recruiter's eyes had widened in shock. He had never seen anything like it. In fact, he had never sensed such raw, untapped power in any child, not even in the offspring of the most prestigious bloodlines.

The recruiter had immediately written something in his notes before turning to Caelum with a smile. "You have a very rare gift, young man. We can offer you a place at the Academy. A place where your potential can truly be realized."

The words barely registered in Caelum's mind. He didn't care about the Academy. He didn't care about any of it. But for the first time in his life, Caelum felt the faintest stir of curiosity—a flicker of something that wasn't apathy. The possibility that there was more to this strange power than just the endless void. The possibility of answers.

So he agreed.

And with that decision, Caelum's journey into a world he had only ever read about in stories began. Little did he know, this path would lead him to uncover truths about his origins, his bloodline, and the world he had long remained indifferent to.

But for now, he simply walked onward, silent, cold, and unchanged, carrying with him a darkness no one could comprehend—a darkness that was his alone.