Beyond Worlds, Beneath the Star God

The night had fallen thick and heavy, pressing down on Windrest like a woolen shroud.

Kun stood outside the old barn, staring at the stars above. For a fleeting second, he could almost imagine he was back in the vastness of space—aboard his ship, drifting through galaxies, alone but in control. But this world was different. Colder. Wilder. And tonight, it felt... wrong.

A soft breeze carried a strange scent—burnt iron and bitter ash.

Then the bell rang.

Not the village's alarm bell—this was something smaller, older. It came from the mage tower, where Master Elandor lived.

Kun hurried up the slope, past sleepy goats and shuttered windows, until he reached the crooked tower. Its topmost window glowed faintly, casting flickers of light on the grass like falling embers.

Inside, Lyra was already waiting.

---

She stood near a circular table, arms crossed, frown deeper than usual. On the table sat a crystal vial containing a single, pulsing green fang—still faintly glowing, humming with unstable mana.

Kun stepped inside quietly.

"Took you long enough," Lyra muttered. "Old man says it's urgent. That thing—" she motioned to the vial "—was taken from the beast you blasted."

"Yeah," Kun said. "Didn't look natural."

Lyra shot him a glance. "Because it wasn't."

Footsteps echoed from the upper stairwell as Elandor descended. The old mage looked more exhausted than usual. His eyes were red-rimmed, and the usual calm in his aura was laced with something else—fear.

"Sit," he said. "Both of you."

Kun obeyed. Lyra didn't. She leaned forward, staring at the vial.

"That thing wasn't born," Elandor said slowly. "It was crafted. Shaped by ritual magic—illegal, forbidden, and ancient."

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "By who?"

Elandor didn't answer right away. Instead, he walked to the wall and pulled down a thick, dusty cloth, revealing a massive hand-drawn map underneath. The continent sprawled across it, but layered over the geography were countless black circles and blood-red markings.

"They call themselves the Nethershade Covenant," Elandor said. "You won't find their name in public records. They were erased—deliberately—after the Starfire War more than a century ago."

Kun stepped closer. "Who are they?"

"Cultists. Scholars. Fanatics," Elandor said darkly. "They believe the gods betrayed magic. That true power lies in what they call the 'Fallen Realms'—places beyond divine order. They wish to destroy the balance between magic and the stars, and open a path for... something else."

He pointed to the fang in the vial.

"These beasts are just the beginning. Ritual-born abominations. The first signs of their return."

---

⚠️ The Target Revealed

Lyra's voice was quiet now. "Why here? Why Windrest?"

Elandor turned to Kun. "Because of him."

Kun froze.

"They seek a catalyst," Elandor continued. "A living body that bridges two realities. Your presence here—the way you arrived—is like a flare in the magical aether. A crack in the star-bound pattern."

"You think they're after me?" Kun asked, jaw clenched.

"I don't think," Elandor replied. "I know."

Silence hung heavy in the tower.

Lyra finally looked at Kun. "So… what are you going to do about it?"

---

🔥Kun's Choice

Kun looked down at his hands.

He had tried so hard to stay small. To live quietly, unnoticed. But the past wouldn't stay buried—and neither would the future.

He remembered the god's voice, echoing in that strange void:

> "You were never meant to be here. But now that you are, the choice is yours: fade quietly… or burn brightly."

He looked up. "I'm done hiding."

Lyra blinked.

"I don't know everything they're planning," Kun said, voice steady, "but if people are going to die because of me… if they're making monsters to hunt me… I can't just sit back."

A slow grin spread across Lyra's face. "Took you long enough to grow a spine."

"I had one," Kun smirked. "Just kept it folded for storage."

Elandor let out a long breath and walked over to an old iron chest. With a wave of his hand, ancient wards unsealed. He opened the lid and retrieved three objects:

A folded map, inked in ancient star charts.

A small metallic sigil, shaped like a six-pointed star.

A sealed scroll, its wax mark glowing faintly.

"This," he said, "is your first destination: the ruins of Stellar Hollow. Once a temple. Now a graveyard. The Nethershade used it as a ritual site in the last war. If they're moving again… that's where they'll begin."

Kun took the map, feeling the weight of destiny press heavier than ever.

Lyra slung her satchel over her shoulder. "Guess we're a team now."

Elandor simply nodded.

"Pack your things. We leave at dawn."