Ethan sat in the middle of his room, surrounded by silence that felt unnaturally loud. His breath came in short bursts, his heart still racing from the encounter with the Black Lotus. The remnants of the battle the heat, the crackling energy lingered in the air like an echo he couldn't shake. The pendant, now resting in his palm, seemed to pulse with an almost sentient awareness, as if it were alive, waiting for him to acknowledge its power.
He hadn't fully realized what had happened at school. One moment, he was cowering, unsure, and the next, he had been capable of doing things he couldn't explain. The energy inside him had erupted, and in that moment, he wasn't just Ethan Park. He was someone else someone with a purpose, someone with a legacy.
The clock on his desk ticked steadily, a reminder that time wasn't waiting for him. He had no idea what the Black Lotus would do next or if they would come after him again. He needed answers.
But there was no one to give them to him.
No one, except the voices.
The pendant stirred in his hand, and for the first time since he'd put it down after school, it felt heavier, as though it was calling to him. With trembling fingers, Ethan lifted it to his chest, the jade cool against his skin. He closed his eyes, unsure of what to expect, but knowing something inside him was ready to answer.
The world around him flickered. The air thickened, and when he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in a completely different place. The room had vanished, replaced by an open, vast expanse of mist. The ground beneath his feet was solid, but the sky above was shrouded in an endless twilight, casting long shadows that stretched across the horizon.
A voice echoed in his mind, and Ethan instantly recognized it as the one from his vision—the old man, the first of the Twelve.
"You've awakened the spirits, Ethan Park," the voice said, its tone both proud and heavy with the weight of time. "But you have yet to understand what that truly means."
Before him, the mist parted, and one by one, figures began to emerge from the shadows. They were warriors, their bodies poised with a grace and power Ethan had never seen before. Each figure stood tall, their expressions regal and commanding, their presence undeniable. Their eyes shone with ancient wisdom, and the aura of each one made the air around them crackle with energy.
Ethan's heart pounded as he realized what was happening. These were the Twelve—legends brought to life.
"Who are you?"he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but the words rang out in the empty space.
The first figure stepped forward, a tall man with short, silver hair and piercing amber eyes. He wore a simple robe, but there was an air of nobility about him, as if he had lived countless lifetimes. His expression was calm but intense.
"I am Bai Long, the Dragon of the North," the man said, his voice deep and steady. "I was the master of the Windstrike style. My art is the wind itself swift, unpredictable, and powerful."
As he spoke, Bai Long raised a hand, and the air around him rippled like a breeze. Ethan felt the wind swirl around his body, and instinctively, he braced himself. But instead of the wind pushing him, it seemed to guide him, as if the very atmosphere obeyed Bai Long's will.
One by one, the other figures stepped forward, each introducing themselves and their respective styles. There was Mei Xiu, the Water Weaver, whose presence brought a soothing calm as the mist seemed to respond to her power. Gao Ren, the Earth Bearer, whose gaze alone made the ground tremble beneath Ethan's feet. Jin Hei, the Fire Fist, whose eyes burned with an intensity that rivaled the sun.
Each one of them spoke of their martial arts, their battles, their legacies. But more than their combat prowess, there was something intangible about them—an energy that flowed from each of them, a deep, boundless strength that resonated with Ethan on a level he couldn't explain. He could feel their power in his bones, as if their spirits had already merged with his own.
"And what about you?" Bai Long asked, his amber eyes locking onto Ethan's. "What is your path, Ethan Park? What is the art you will master?"
Ethan swallowed hard, the weight of their gaze pressing on him. He had no answer. He didn't know what his art was, or even if he could master the skills they were offering him. But one thing was clear: he had to learn.
"I don't know," Ethan admitted, his voice small. "I'm just a kid. I don't know how to do this."
Bai Long's expression softened, and for a moment, the others remained silent, watching Ethan with something that felt like patience.
"You have been chosen for this path, not because of what you know, but because of what you are capable of becoming," Bai Long said, his voice like a guiding hand. "The martial arts are not simply about fighting. They are about balance. About understanding the nature of the world and yourself. You have the strength within you, Ethan. It is our task to help you realize it."
Ethan nodded slowly, the words sinking in. He still didn't understand how he had ended up here or why he was the one chosen. But one thing was certain he couldn't turn back now. Not after everything that had happened.
"Then teach me," Ethan said, his voice firm. "Teach me everything."
The Twelve Shadows regarded him for a moment before Bai Long nodded, his expression resolute.
"Very well. But understand this, Ethan Park: The journey ahead will not be easy. You will face enemies who are stronger than you, and you will be forced to confront the darkness within yourself. You will stumble, and you will fall. But each time you do, you must rise again."
Ethan felt a rush of warmth in his chest, a new sense of purpose filling him. He wasn't just an underdog anymore. He wasn't the scared, bullied kid who ran from trouble. He had the strength of the Twelve behind him, and though he had much to learn, he knew he had what it took to rise to the challenge.
The air around him shifted, and the figures of the Twelve began to dissolve back into the mist, their voices fading into the distance.
"We will be with you," Bai Long's voice echoed one last time. "Remember, Ethan your destiny is your own to shape."
The mist swirled around him, and with it, the world shifted. Ethan found himself back in his room, breathing heavily as though he had just been plunged into cold water. His hand still gripped the jade pendant tightly, and for a brief moment, he could almost feel the presence of the Twelve surrounding him.
But just as quickly, the sensation faded.
Ethan stood up, his legs unsteady, his thoughts spinning. He had learned something valuable, something crucial. The Twelve weren't just spirits or masters of combat they were guides. They were part of him now. And their wisdom, their strength, would help him face whatever came next.
There was still so much to learn. But Ethan was ready.