"Happy Birthday Nova, Happy Birthday Legion, Happy Birthday Orion, and Happy Birthday Atlas!" The crowd of astrologers and classmates shouted in unison, their voices blending into a rhythmic chant that reverberated through the dimly lit room. The flickering candles atop the large cake cast dancing shadows across the faces of the quadruplets, each one illuminated in hues that seemed to match the vibrancy of their unique hair and eyes.

As the chanting died down, silence settled over the room. The four siblings exchanged uncertain glances, none of them moving to blow out the candles. The quiet was palpable, broken only by the soft crackling of the flames, waiting for someone to take action. It was tradition—but who would bear the burden this time?

Nova, the youngest and only girl, broke the stalemate. Her long silver hair shimmered under the candlelight. She tossed a playful glance at her brothers, her fingers idly twisting a loose curl. "It should be Legion this year. He never blows out the candles." Her blue eyes sparkled with mischievous certainty, as though she had already made the decision for them all.

Orion, second youngest, smirked in agreement. His short red hair, dark at the roots and brighter at the tips, shifted as he leaned in closer. "Yeah, I'm with Nova. Legion always manages to avoid it. He can deal with the voice for once." His tone was light, but beneath it, there was an edge—something unspoken between the four that no one else in the room could understand.

Atlas, second eldest, the ever-thoughtful observer, nodded. His cropped blonde hair and steady green eyes gave him a composed air. "Agreed," he said, stepping forward to place a firm hand on Legion's shoulder. "Let's just get this over with."

Legion sighed heavily, rolling his eyes as his brothers and sister pushed him toward the cake. His deep crimson eyes, darker than Orion's, glimmered with reluctant acceptance. His red and black hair fell over his brow as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Fine. I'll be the sacrifice this year." His voice was resigned, though there was a hint of humor in it—a coping mechanism, perhaps, to hide the tension only they shared.

The quadruplets gathered around the cake, all eyes on Legion as he prepared to blow out the candles. Nova, her curiosity barely contained, whispered as she tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. "What do you think the voice will say this time?"

Legion didn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames. Then, with a deep breath, he leaned forward and blew.

But before the flames could extinguish, the air around them thickened. An eerie stillness fell over the room, as though time itself had slowed. And then, all four of them heard it.

The voice.

This time, it was different. No longer the low, guttural whisper they had come to expect. Instead, it was booming, impossibly large, yet somehow gentle—like a giant trying to whisper but failing. It filled the room, echoing in their minds.

"Happy Birthday, young ones. I am Chronos, your messenger, and I regret to inform you that at midnight tomorrow, you will depart for a Tier 3 training realm. The estimated time away is three years. My voice will trigger certain objects from the True Universe to activate, causing chaos. Be warned, 20 to 60 percent of your population may be destroyed before you can fight back."

Nova's face went pale, her grip on Legion's forearm tightening until her knuckles turned white. She trembled, her voice barely a whisper. "What does it mean by causing chaos? I don't want to leave." Fear rippled through her words as she buried herself against her older brother.

Legion's arm instinctively wrapped around her, his voice calm but carrying its own undercurrent of unease. "I don't know, Nova. But we'll be fine. Mom and Dad won't let anything happen to us. And I won't let anything happen to you." He tried to sound reassuring, though the words felt heavy on his tongue.

But as he looked up toward their parents for some kind of support, the sight that greeted him turned his stomach. His father was floating, suspended in mid-air as a fierce wind whipped around him, shredding his clothes to ribbons. His mother lay unconscious on the floor, while the other guests—the astrologers, the classmates—were stacked in a grotesque heap against the far wall, as if swept there by an unseen hand.

The chaos had already begun.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Legion…" Nova whispered, her voice cracking as she clung tighter to him.

Legion's attention snapped back to the room just as the glass-encased space artifacts lining the walls began to stir. Slowly at first, then violently, they broke free, floating into the air as if possessed by some unseen force. One by one, they swirled around the room, glowing with an unnatural light. The candle on the cake, the one that had never melted despite being lit so many times, began to spin wildly before it shot into the air, hovering like an ominous omen.

"Legion," Orion's voice cut through the chaos, his red eyes wide with alarm. "We've got to do something."

Atlas stepped forward, his emerald eyes darting around as beams of energy began firing haphazardly from the swirling objects. "These aren't just artifacts anymore," he said grimly. "They're dangerous."

As if to prove his point, a burst of energy shot from one of the floating objects, slicing through the room and disintegrating part of the ceiling. The building shook, debris raining down as the observatory's infrastructure groaned under the strain.

"We've got to get them out of here before the building collapses!" Atlas shouted over the rising noise.

"But how are we supposed to carry all of them across the lake?" Orion snapped, his gaze shifting toward the unconscious bodies in the room. "It's a 30-minute trip by boat!"

Before anyone could answer, Atlas made his move, rushing toward their father. By this point, the wind had torn the last of his clothes away, leaving him floating helplessly, suspended six feet in the air, naked and unconscious.

"We don't have time to argue!" Atlas yelled back, determination in his voice as he began jumping towards their father, trying to bring him down from his strange suspension.

Legion steeled himself, eyes scanning the chaos. "We stick together," he muttered. "Whatever happens, we face it together."

At that moment the candle released a continuous beam of light directly in the air dissegrationing everything in its way.  Then a loud implosion implying something was giving some sort of resistance. 

Legion felt the weight of his words settle on his shoulders as the continuous beam of light shot upward, tearing through the air and seeming to pierce the very fabric of the atmosphere itself. There was something off about the beam—it wasn't just energy; it was a force, one that was trying to burrow through to something they couldn't quite see. And it wasn't just disintegrating things—it was clearing the way, forcing some unseen boundary to break.

The implosion that followed the beam's release sent shockwaves through the room. It was almost deafening, like the world itself was groaning under the pressure of whatever forces were clashing. Legion's heart raced as he struggled to stay grounded amidst the chaos.

"I need to go check on the beam," Legion ordered, his voice low but firm, cutting through the chaos around them. He turned to Nova, his crimson eyes locking with hers. "Nova, go check on Mom. She's breathing, but we need to wake her up. We're going to need her."

Nova hesitated, her pale face still twisted with fear, her fingers gripping Legion's arm as if afraid to let go. "But what if—"

"Go!" Legion snapped, more out of urgency than frustration. He softened slightly when he saw the hurt flicker in her eyes. "We'll handle this. Just get to Mom, okay?"

She gave a quick nod, her silver-and-gold hair falling into her face as she darted toward their mother's unconscious form, her small frame barely visible amidst the debris.

Legion turned his attention back to the beam, the air vibrating with each second the energy continued to pulse. His brothers were already moving into action, each of them heading toward different points of the room. Orion, ever the quick thinker, had darted toward the artifacts swirling around the ceiling, red eyes scanning for a way to neutralize them. Atlas, his calm and strategic nature taking charge, was already trying to lower their father to the ground, though the invisible force that held him suspended seemed to fight back.

Legion's steps were heavy as he approached the Front entrance as Legion reached outside he couldn't find the source of the resistance. The clouds in the beam path were punched right through but the source of the resistance was way too far up to see. That was until the earth shook and the Blue sky fractured revealing the beam crashing against the earth's protective layer. The layer was slightly fracturing. 

Revealing something unexpected: a massive red planet that covered the entire sky. The planet was far away but it was massive enough to see clear details. The visible side of the planet was covered

" what is happening where is the sun Legion began until he thought he saw something. Did that planet just blink? That is when Legion noticed that the eye was a planet but the eye of a massive creature.

Legion's breath hitched as he stared at the sky, the enormity of what he was seeing sinking in. The blue sky was no longer a sky—it was a fragile shell, fracturing under the immense pressure of something beyond comprehension. And there it was, floating in the now-exposed void: a colossal red planet—or at least, what he initially thought was a planet. It dominated the horizon, its vastness swallowing the heavens, but as his mind tried to piece together the details, the truth became impossible to ignore.

It wasn't a planet. It was an eye.

The surface was not barren like a planet's crust but organic, pulsing with veins that radiated energy. The "planet" blinked, its massive eyelid sliding over the terrifying gaze, sending a wave of shock through Legion's entire being. Every instinct screamed for him to turn away, but he couldn't tear his eyes from the scene above. The colossal eye stared down at the world, surveying the chaos it had triggered.