The single meteor sliced through the sky, cutting through the stillness of the black night with a trail of luminous green and purple. It lit up the world, casting eerie, shifting hues over the land below. People gathered in awe, pointing and murmuring in anxious whispers. Beneath them, the snow lay thick and untouched, waiting in silent anticipation as the blazing object hurtled toward it.

But there was one man who seemed utterly detached from the spectacle. He stood far away, a figure of calm indifference amidst the chaos, and not a flake of snow marred the space around him. The meteor was little more than a distant dot in the sky from where he watched, a faint flicker barely worth noting. The wind tugged at his short white hair, and with a deliberate motion, he raised his hand to adjust the mask that covered his face. The mask was adorned with a strange design—three triangles stacked atop one another, centered around a single, unblinking eye. His expression was hidden, but the slight lift in his voice betrayed a flicker of excitement.

"Do you see that, ____? The harbinger of misfortune has finally arrived."

He stood tall atop a towering structure, his posture as unyielding as his confidence. The height, the power, it suited him. He welcomed the meteor’s arrival with a tone that hinted at both anticipation and amusement.

"Welcome back. I wish you the best of luck in your survival... and your mission."

"I look forward to seeing your accomplishments in this land of Titans."

----------------------------------------

When the boy first opened his eyes, the world around him was a suffocating haze of smoke. His chest burned with each breath, and he could barely make out anything beyond the blur. Cold dampness pressed into his back, contrasting with the unbearable heat that seemed to come from everywhere else. He was surrounded by a dense fog, but he couldn’t remember why. He struggled to sit up, only to be buffeted by a sudden gust of wind that cleared some of the smoke. A single thought echoed through his head-

Where am I?

Two figures emerged from the haze. They stood tall, their outlines sharp in the dim light. Through his tear-blurred vision, the boy could just make out their forms—a boy and a girl. The boy's hair was immaculate, his expression stern and severe, while the girl leaned forward, her gaze curious and far less guarded, her long bangs fluttering like butterflies in the wind.

The boy lay in a desolate tundra, the snow around him darkened to a filthy black sludge. He realized they were all standing in the center of a massive crater, the ground still smoking from some recent impact. The male figure was the first to act. From nowhere, a sword of pure ice materialized in his hand, glowing coldly in the dim light. It floated in front of him, its edge razor-sharp, its point aimed directly at the boy's throat. The threat was unmistakable, though the blade never touched him.

"Who are you?" the boy asked, his voice as cold and his eyes piercing.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

It was at this moment the boy realized the emptiness in his mind. He couldn’t remember anything—anything except one word. A name.

"My name is Sorn," he said, his voice hoarse.

The girl spoke next, her tone lighter. "Looks like he speaks our language."

Now that the smoke had mostly cleared, Sorn could properly see his visitors. Both of them had hair as pale as the icy sky above. Their white uniforms were marred by soot and dirt, though the man’s sleeveless top displayed muscular arms, and the girl wore a skirt, with a delicate ice flower perched on a headband.

Neither Sorn nor the boy in front of him answered the girl, so she took it upon herself to continue. "You do understand us, right? I’m Crystal, and this is Keilan. Say hi, Keilan."

Keilan’s gaze never wavered from Sorn. "Where are you from?" he asked, his voice tense.

"I don’t know," Sorn replied.

"Where do your allegiances lie?"

"I don’t know."

"Explain the meteor you fell out of."

"Meteor?" Sorn echoed, confused.

Keilan’s icy sword lowered slightly, but his scrutiny remained intense. "Do you remember anything?"

Sorn struggled to rise, but his body betrayed him, his arms trembling and weak. "No, I don’t."

Keilan studied him for a moment before letting the sword dissipate. "Fine. Get up. You’re coming back with me."

Keilan turned to leave but stopped when Crystal spoke up, her voice carrying a hint of defiance. "You can’t be serious."

Keilan’s eyes narrowed, his fingers flexing unconsciously. "And what would you suggest? Leave him here? This is a matter for the Council."

"You’re planning to send him to his death."

Keilan’s stoic façade cracked for the first time, his frustration bubbling up. "He’s a threat to the Order. What would you have me do? Let him walk free?"

Crystal smiled, the tension slipping from her face as if this was all some lighthearted game. "I’ll take him to the hut. I have a few questions of my own."

Keilan’s frown deepened, his resolve shaken. "You can’t hide from the Dancing Blade. Toren’s group is investigating. You know how relentless he is."

"They won’t find us."

"If you say so." Keilan gave Sorn one last hard look before walking away.

Crystal turned to Sorn, her smile softening into something more genuine. "So, what do you think? What should we have done with you?"

Sorn met her gaze, his body trembling with fatigue. "I don’t want to die."

Crystal tilted her head, her eyes scanning him with a mixture of pity and curiosity. "Were you really inside that meteor?"

Sorn, still weak, stood with difficulty, locking eyes with her. "Like I said, I don’t remember."

She giggled lightly and, without warning, poked his forehead. Sorn collapsed back into the sludge, his vision fading. As his eyelids fluttered shut, he heard her mutter a soft, amused, "Oops," her expression unconcerned.

Then, the darkness swallowed him whole.