Time passed, and Charlie found himself growing into the world's new rhythm. He was eleven and a half now, and the settlement had changed with him. Once a fragile collection of survivors, it had swelled to nearly 500 people—not from strangers but from the new lives born within its walls. Outsiders were rarely welcomed; resources were precious, and trust was hard-earned. Yet the settlement thrived, adapting to the ever-changing and increasingly hostile world.
His father was a name everyone knew, whispered with admiration even when he wasn't around. About a year after his mother's death, he and a group of hunters—including Gretchen and a few other women—had delivered a devastating blow to the warlord's forces. They'd faced one of the warlord's main fighting groups, led by his son. Gretchen held her own, proving her strength in battle, but it was his father who turned the tide. The stories grew larger with every retelling: how he killed ten men himself, how his blade ended the warlord's son. It was a victory that could have sparked another war, but instead, it brought a tenuous peace. Both sides agreed to keep to their own territories, with the river as the boundary. It wasn't trust that held the armistice together—just exhaustion and the need to survive.
Even with the warlord temporarily contained, the world outside the settlement grew stranger and more dangerous. Animals were no longer simply animals. They had become something else, something wilder and more primal—Beasts. Some were barely noticeable, just stronger versions of their old forms, but others were monstrous. A bear had claimed a stretch of the nearby forest, and no hunter dared to enter its territory. The stories of its size and ferocity were enough to keep everyone away.
Insects had grown too, bloated into creatures that seemed torn from nightmares. Wasps the size of a human hand swarmed fields, their stingers as sharp as spears. Even the plants weren't safe. Some vines moved when no one was watching, and a few settlers had been burned or poisoned by flowers that hid their true nature. The waterways, once a source of food and comfort, had turned treacherous. Fish with razor-sharp teeth now hunted from beneath the surface, and one had even crawled onto land to drag a man back into the water. Every day was a fight to adapt, to stay ahead of the ever-shifting balance of power in this new world.
For a time, things felt stable—dangerous but manageable. Then came the day the Pillars fell.
Charlie had just finished his morning chores, helping the hunters mend gear and sharpen blades. He was on his way to his second task when the sound stopped him. It wasn't loud, but it was everywhere at once, a ringing that hummed in his bones and made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He turned, scanning the horizon, but there was no source, no direction. "Do you hear that?" he asked.
Amber, standing nearby with a stack of journals, nodded. Her gaze flicked around, sharp and searching. For a moment, they stood there, unsure of what was happening, until the world itself seemed to shift.
It wasn't quite sight or sound—it was something else, something that filled the air around him and pressed into his thoughts.
"Greetings, Humans of Earth."
The voice was calm, deliberate, and seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. It wasn't loud, but it demanded attention, each word carving itself into Charlie's mind. "The Ashes Empire greets you. Due to the nature of your planet's Will, this message will be brief. The falling items you see are not stars or debris. They are Pillars, containing cultivation techniques, combat knowledge, and the process of Spirit Bonding.
"Your world was infused with mana when its Will awakened, becoming a beacon to the universe. Because of your location, we cannot assist you physically, but this is our warning: Your planet will soon be invaded by other races. One of these races—the Goblins—is extremely hostile. Our recommendation: flee or kill on sight. Other races will arrive as well. Some may be friendly. Some will not. You must judge for yourselves.
"Understand this: your planet's Will has set limitations. It will restrict the strength of those who can enter and the number of outsiders allowed, but the number will not be small. They will come without cultivation but armed with knowledge, unity, and basic supplies. Humanity is at a severe disadvantage without the process of Soul Binding.
"Soul Binding is the means by which humans bond their soul with a young beast, unlocking their potential for cultivation. Without this bond, you will struggle to match the strength of other races.
"The odds are against you. But if you visit the Pillars and learn, you may yet survive. The Ashes Empire offers this knowledge because once, long ago, we faced the same trials. Know that we succeeded, though it came at great cost. The Phoenix that saved our Empire bids us leave you with this final truth: even in the ashes, life can rise anew."
The voice faded, and with it, the strange pressure in the air. Charlie blinked, his heart racing. He turned to Amber, who stood still as a statue, her journals held tight against her chest. "Did you see it too?" he asked.
Amber nodded, her expression distant but focused. "Yes."
A rumble beneath their feet drew their attention to the horizon. Streaks of light blazed across the sky, their fiery trails marking where the Pillars were falling. One burned bright red, dropping somewhere to the south. Charlie could see others, faint and far away, dotting the horizon like falling stars.
"Is that…?" Charlie began, but the words stuck in his throat.
Amber's voice cut through the stillness, quiet but steady. "A Pillar."
And just like that, everything changed. Humanity was no longer alone in the universe.