'A headman rules a village. A king rules a nation. Gods rule the world. But who dares to rule a god?'
Zaiden Herchan stood at the colossal entrance of his new college, his ice-teal blue eyes scanning the sprawling campus that seemed to oscillate between ancient wonder and modern marvel. Towering buildings loomed overhead, their architectural designs intertwining, as if they whispered the secrets of centuries past. With a heavy sigh, he adjusted the strap of his bag, feeling the weight of it and the anticipation for what lay ahead.
"Another pointless beginning..." he muttered, barely audible to himself.
It had been years since he felt like a ghost haunting his own life. His father's disappearance when he was four and his brother's vanishing act at eleven had shackled his emotions, imprisoning them beneath a facade of indifference. His mother, a stoic figure who never shed a tear, left him unsettled; her silence screamed volumes, making him wonder if perhaps she already knew more than she let on about their fates.
As he stepped onto campus, a sudden flicker in the atmosphere caught his attention—a slight shift in the air that sent an accusatory tingle down his spine, as if the universe itself had taken notice of him. He dismissed it, chalking it up to nerves, pushing the sensation to the back of his mind.
Yet, unbeknownst to him, two spectral figures lurked in the shadows, their piercing gaze locked on him. One of them spoke, his voice a low rumble. "So, it is him, huh?"
The other replied, a note of excitement lacing his words. "Looks like it. After four thousand years, we've finally found him."
Zaiden, oblivious to the gravity of the moment, continued walking, the weight of fate unbeknownst to him.
Inside the lecture hall, he chose a seat at the back, a strategic spot to avoid unnecessary interactions. He pulled out his notebook, determined to fade into the background. Just as he settled in, an upbeat voice broke through his silence.
"Yo! Mind if I sit here?" A cheerful young man with dark green hair and warm honey-colored eyes plopped down beside him, radiating an effortless charisma that was impossible to ignore.
Zaiden arched an eyebrow, his resolve to maintain distance frustrated. "Do what you want," he replied, keeping his voice flat.
"Cool, cool! Name's Axze Shaw. And you are?" The stranger's enthusiasm was infectious, something Zaiden loathed and found intriguing all at once.
"Zaiden," he admitted, the name feeling heavy on his tongue as if it carried an unspoken weight.
Axze grinned, his demeanor unfazed. "Nice to meet you, Zaiden! Guess we're in this together, huh?"
Zaiden turned his attention back to his notes, determination set to shut down any further conversation. Yet, the moment the class began, an unsettling feeling clawed at his focus, telling him that this casual encounter was the tip of an iceberg far more sinister and enchanting than he could comprehend.
Far above, beyond the veil of the mortal realm, unseen forces stirred. The gods of old, who once ruled in splendid glory, now roiled with a restless energy. In the shadows lurked an ancient presence, long thought lost to time, whispering secrets that had been forgotten.
Finally… he has awakened.
The cosmos held its breath, as threads of fate knitted together, igniting a journey fraught with peril, power, and the revelation of destiny that would challenge everything Zaiden thought he knew.