Lysander's legs trembled as he climbed the worn stone steps leading to the family's old well. His once-proud lineage had faded like the crumbling ruins of his family's estate. Every day felt like a battle, not only against the world but against himself. The weight of his family's downfall pressed heavily on his shoulders. At the academy, he was ridiculed, labeled as weak and without potential. But none of that mattered. Tonight, Lysander had a decision to make.

For the past several weeks, Lysander had been haunted by the same nightmare. A mob, faceless and relentless, chasing him through the streets of his village. No matter how hard he fought back, no matter how much strength he summoned, he was always outnumbered, always crushed beneath their fists.

But tonight, something in him shifted. Tonight, he would fight back.

The moon hung low in the sky, its light shimmering on the water's surface. Lysander took a deep breath and dropped to his knees by the well. He reached into the cool, dark water, his fingers grazing the stone lining. His heart raced as he felt something smooth beneath the surface, an object that pulsed with an unnatural energy.

The sensation jolted through him, causing his pulse to quicken. Without hesitation, he plunged his arm deeper into the water. His fingers wrapped around the object, pulling it upwards with all his might. It felt almost alive in his grasp, as though it resisted his touch, yet, driven by desperation, Lysander pulled harder.

With a sudden lurch, the object came free. As he held it, a sharp pain shot through his chest, and his left eye—the one that had been blind since birth—seemed to burn with intensity. He staggered backward, gripping his face as though trying to suppress the growing ache in his skull.

For a moment, everything went dark.

Lysander's eyes flickered open. His head throbbed, and his body felt heavier than it ever had before. But, oddly enough, his limbs were no longer weighed down by the constant ache that had plagued him. As he shakily rose to his feet, Lysander realized that his vision—his left vision—was clearer than ever before.

He stumbled forward, confused, and looked down into the well's dark waters, where his reflection now stared back at him. His left eye, the one that had been blind his entire life, was no longer empty. There was something different about it. The pupil gleamed with an unnatural hue, as if it held the secrets of the universe within its depths.

"What is happening?" Lysander muttered, staring in disbelief.

Then, a voice—a deep, ancient voice—spoke inside his mind, echoing through his consciousness.

"You have awakened me, mortal. I am the spirit of the Heavenly All Seeing Eye. The one you have come to possess."

Lysander's breath hitched. The voice—so powerful, so full of authority—sent shivers down his spine.

"What… what is this? What happened to me?"

"You have been chosen, child," the voice continued, its tone calm but unwavering. "The power of the All Seeing Eye has merged with you. With this eye, you will see beyond what others can. You will uncover the hidden truths of the world, and in turn, I will guide you to the strength you desire. No longer will you be weak. No longer will you be powerless."

Lysander staggered backward, his heart racing. The voice spoke with such certainty, as though it had always known him, always watched over him. The burning sensation in his left eye began to subside, replaced by a new sense of clarity, a sharpness that he had never felt before.

"But remember," the voice intoned, "Power is a double-edged sword. The more you grow, the more you will attract enemies. The road to greatness is fraught with peril. And your journey is just beginning."

Lysander glanced down at his hands, which trembled with newfound strength. He could feel the surge of power coursing through him, a power that had once been beyond his reach. His left eye, no longer a symbol of his weakness, now glowed with potential. For the first time, he could see. He could see.

But that wasn't all. The world around him had changed. The night sky, the trees, the very air—everything seemed sharper, more detailed, as though the veil between the real and the unseen had been lifted. Lysander's breath caught in his throat as he realized the depth of the change. He wasn't just stronger; he could see things that were hidden from others.

"I… I don't understand," he whispered.

The voice responded, this time with a hint of amusement.

"You will, in time. But for now, you must take the first step. Embrace your new strength. Your journey begins now, and I will be with you every step of the way."

Lysander clenched his fists, feeling the raw power at his fingertips. This wasn't just the strength to fight back against his nightmares. This was the power to change everything.

He didn't know what the future held, but one thing was certain: he would no longer be weak. He would rise above, using his new vision and strength to carve a path for himself, one that would lead him to the top of both worlds.

The power of the Heavenly All Seeing Eye was his.

And he would make sure the world knew it.