The world, as it was once known, had already met its tragic end long before Calder Draco ever drew his first breath. The apocalyptic event that came to be referred to as the Veilfall dramatically ruptured the skies above the tumultuous Pacific Ocean, unleashing a silvery conflagration that shattered the very essence of reality itself. This catastrophic phenomenon resulted in dimensions bleeding into one another, creating chaotic rifts from which unspeakable creatures of nightmarish stature crawled forth, descending upon the land like a harbinger of ancient curses and long-held regrets. Entire cities crumbled to dust under the weight of the upheaval, while established governments collapsed in disarray, their structures brought down like a house of cards. Once-mighty armies became mere shadows of their former selves, scattered and defeated, tossed about like chaff in a relentless wind. In less than a week, humanity, blinded by its own arrogance and woefully unprepared for such an onslaught, found itself teetering on the precipice of extinction.
Yet, from the smoldering ruins of this collapsed reality, a new breed of humanity emerged: the Awakened.
These individuals were distinguished by their extraordinary abilities, powers that had undergone a catalyzing transformation in response to the Veilfire. Among them was a woman who wielded control over gravity itself, able to reduce mighty mountains to dust with just the smallest flick of her wrist; a man whose very bones morphed into obsidian, his eyes aflame with a supernatural blue glow; children who traversed through walls as if they were nothing more than ephemeral illusions; and other remarkable beings capable of shattering reality itself with their piercing screams.
These extraordinary abilities were collectively referred to as Echoes. Those equipped with such gifts became vital both as formidable weapons against the rampaging beasts and as potential saviors for a fractured world. They fought back against the monstrous entities that had emerged through the rifts, working tirelessly to seal the most destructive of these dimensional tears and to embark on the arduous yet hopeful journey of rebuilding a world that had been left in ruins. The redefined governments, rebranded under new identities and insignias, recognized their singular focus: to harness the incredible powers possessed by the Awakened.
Consequently, those who had gained these exceptional abilities were elevated in status, meticulously controlled, and at times, idolized. A global protocol emerged, mandating that every child between the ages of ten and sixteen undergo scans conducted by government-sanctioned System interfaces. Advanced tools like aether-thread detectors, bio-weavers, and Veil-seers were developed with the aim of isolating, identifying, and recording the innate Spark within each individual. If a child's Thread was deemed compatible by the System's complex algorithms, it would awaken, resulting in the assignment of a designated Echo Class, the issuance of a government identification, and an unmistakably clear pathway to a future filled with fortune, fame, and influence.
For the Awakened, the world transformed into a realm where their whims held sway. They became the elite, the chosen few who possessed the keys to not only survival but also prosperity in a world striving to recover from devastation. However, for everyone else who remained unawakened, life told an entirely different story. These individuals existed in the shadows, often invisible to society, merely cogs in an unfeeling machine, expendable and all too easily forgotten.
---
When Calder Draco arrived for his System scan at the state-sanctioned Diagnostics Facility nestled in the heart of San Arlen, he was just fifteen years old. His tall, lean physique cast an elongated shadow upon the worn and faded tiles of the waiting room, where the air was thick with an uncomfortable tension. With his alabaster skin and angular features, he bore an almost otherworldly appearance, but it was his striking ice-blue eyes that truly captivated those who glanced his way. Those eyes held depths of pain and an unwavering determination that seemed to extend far beyond the years he had lived. As he stood in line, whispers traveled among the other children, a buzz of speculation mingled with cruel judgment.
"I heard his parents were torn apart by those Veilbeasts, right? He must have witnessed it all firsthand."
"He's probably trauma-locked. That can mess with what the System reads," another kid remarked knowingly.
"I heard that kids who remain unawakened get sent off to the labor zones in the northern districts. He's definitely in trouble."
But Calder brushed aside their cruel remarks as he always did, his heart impervious to their jibes. After all, what remained inside him that was worth caring about? So much had been ripped away, and the monsters had devastated his world entirely, leaving him with lingering echoes of his parents' cries and the stark reality of government-issued rations. There were no caskets for proper farewells, no burials for grieving; just names etched into a cold wall, a monument to loss, and the hollow, empty promise of a brighter future.
As he stepped into the scanning chamber, the sterile scent of antiseptic mingled with an electric tingle in the air, filling his nostrils. Pressing his palm against the cool metal surface of the Veil-thread interface, he felt the device spring to life, humming softly. Streams of light flickered across his arm, illuminating intricate patterns that danced as if they were alive. The attendant, a man whose face resembled a piece of weathered stone, peered intently at the monitor. His brow furrowed, confusion etching deeper lines upon his rugged features.
Suddenly, the screen blared a menacing red:
[THREAD ERROR: NO DATA FOUND]
[RECOMMENDED STATUS: VEIL-EMPTY]
[ASSIGNMENT: ARCHIVAL / NON-COMBAT LABOR]
"What? Error?" Calder's voice barely rose above a whisper, as disbelief washed over him.
The attendant averted his gaze, shuffling papers in an attempt to conceal his growing discomfort, leaving Calder to grapple with a reality that felt unbearably heavy.
"It indicates that you don't possess a Thread, kid. You're empty," the man said flatly.
"That… it can't be true," Calder argued, a sense of dread sinking into his chest like a heavy stone.
"It does happen," the man replied nonchalantly as he motioned for the next student to step forward. "Could be bad genetics, a glitch in the System—whatever the reason, it doesn't matter. Just go. Next in line!"
As Calder walked out, he felt the weight of the jeers and judging stares around him. Each heavy step felt like he was carrying a burden he never wanted to shoulder. From that moment forward, Calder Draco was rendered a mere nothingness. He wasn't Unawakened. He wasn't Dormant. He was only a glitch in the system—an error, a ghost haunting a world that had moved on without him.
---
For three consecutive years, Calder's life morphed into an indistinct blur—a dull routine of survival became his norm. Passing beyond the age limits for orphaned children, he struggled to scrape together a living amidst the shattered remnants of the city's broken sectors. Each of his days revolved around menial tasks: scrubbing gruesome monster remains from worn train seats, cleaning up hazardous chemical spills—all for the meager credits that barely allowed him to scrape by.
Living in a crumbling complex where the local rat population exceeded the number of actual residents, he found thin walls that offered no privacy at all; he could hear every murmur, every sigh, and every creaky floorboard from his neighbors as they bustled about their own hardships.
His nights were spent consuming cheap, dried noodles while staring longingly at holographic displays portraying the lives of affluent Awakened teens. Their faces, adorned with vibrant war paint, glorified their viral fight videos that had earned them fame, adulation from girls, and lucrative sponsorships in the digital realm. Throughout it all, he remained stoically silent—even when the heating system failed, letting the frigid air seep into his very bones; even when he had to bathe in icy water poured haphazardly in the shower; and even when he scrubbed the rancid stench of monster blood from his shabby clothes.
Yet, deep within the recesses of his heart, a storm brewed. It was an insatiable anger, a silent fury that churned inside like an unrelenting furnace, propelling every movement, every thought, every moment of his waking life. It wasn't right. It was undeniably, painfully unfair. He had lost everything—his home, his parents, his future aspirations—and yet the world chose to reward the cowardly and the foolish simply for having a fleeting Thread.
---
The night Calder Draco ceased to exist was unremarkable, just another entry in a long string of dismal nights that blended together into one endless cycle. He had just wrapped up a grueling day at work, his back screaming in protest from the day's labor, his clothes stiff with the residue of harsh chemical cleaners. In the darkness of his shabby apartment, he stripped off his work-worn garments, feeling the chill of the air nip at his skin. The shower was rudimentary at best, temperamental and sputtering, initially releasing brown water before finally running clear, only to quickly turn ice-cold.
Leaning against the crumbling tile, he allowed the unsteady stream of water to hit his back, his eyes fluttering shut as he desperately sought a fleeting moment of tranquility amidst the chaos that defined his daily existence. In a split second, however, his foot caught the slick edge of the tub, tipping the precarious balance of the world around him. The shower curtain yanked open, and a blinding pain shot through his skull as it collided with the porcelain with a sickening crack.
Everything faded into darkness.
---
Silence enveloped him.
Then, a chilling sound, akin to wind whispering through ancient, crumbling bones.
And then—
> [UNCLAIMED THREAD DETECTED]
[SOUL VESSEL DAMAGED – CORE AWAKENING INITIATED]
[THREAD TYPE: HYBRID – DRACONIC / DEMONIC / VAMPIRIC / DIVINE]
[STATUS: VEIL-REJECTED – ACCESS GRANTED]
[SYSTEM CALIBRATING…]
"You are no longer among the broken. You are no longer one of the weak," a voice like rolling thunder reverberated through his mind. "Welcome, Sovereign. The Throne awaits."
Calder's eyes flew open, his body convulsing as his nerve endings sparked back to life, igniting sensations within him like an extravagant fireworks display. He felt his spine crack and realign, his vision exploding with a vibrant array of colors and symbols. And then he saw it.
A screen floated before him like a luminescent hologram, radiating an ethereal light that felt almost tangible. It shimmered, etched into reality itself as if it were forged from the very essence of creation.
> [NIGHTBORN SOVEREIGN SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
[TIER 1 UNLOCKED – NIGHTBORN INHERITOR]
[NEW TRAITS: Blood Sigil | Predator's Archive | Breath of Dominion]
[WARNING: EXISTENCE NO LONGER RECOGNIZED BY STANDARD SCANNERS]
[STATUS: SOVEREIGN CLASS – ONE OF ONE]
Calder stared in awe at his trembling hands, each breath escaping his lips in a series of ragged gasps. His blood glowed, pulsing with an enigmatic energy that coursed beneath his skin like living fire. He laughed—an ecstatic sound teetering on the edge of insanity—before unleashing a primal scream so powerful it echoed through the cramped apartment, shattering the remaining glass in the shower.
No longer was he simply Calder Draco, the glitch, the forgotten shadow of society. No, he had transcended that existence. He had become something far greater. Something ancient and invincible.