Prologue

Leo Pov:

It all began.

Fifty years ago, the world blinked—and woke up differently.

The sun rose like it always did—quiet, steady, warm—spilling golden light across a world still rubbing the sleep from its eyes.

It was a normal morning.

Calm. Predictable.

Birds chirped as they flew up into the sky. People rushed to work.

Children laughed on their way to school in crisp uniforms and flashing sneakers.

Markets opened with the clatter of crates, the ping of barcode scanners, and the hiss of auto-doors.

Smart windows adjusted to daylight.

Billboards lit up above the streets, shimmering with ads—whispering sales, eyes blinking in endless loops.

Screens flickered alive—news anchors with too-white teeth, morning talk shows, streaming dramas, algorithmic playlists, static.

It was just life. Ordinary. Familiar.

And then everything was about to changed.

Time didn’t stop—but it felt like it did.

Drones froze mid-air. Trains glided to a silent halt. Birds hung motionless, like someone had hit pause. Even the hearts of every human being seemed to skip a beat.

A speck of light appeared in the sky—small, distant, almost easy to miss. Unless you were looking.

It grew. And then… erupted, like a cosmic curtain tearing across the sky.

It wasn’t a star. Not lightning. Not divine. Not something scientific.

It was something else entirely—a presence, a force, a whisper from a world not ours.

And for one moment—just one—people everywhere looked up: villages, cities, desert outposts, atop icy peaks, beneath ocean waves, in deep forests, crowded markets, quiet temples. Eyes wide. Faces glowing in strange, silent radiance.

It fell from the heavens in perfect silence. No thunder. No heat. No impact.

Just a wave of pure, blinding brilliance sweeping across the Earth. And touching everything—and everyone.

Then… it vanished.

No smoke. No crater. No sound. No shockwave.

Nothing left behind—except the memory of something no one could explain.

People paused—mid-step, mid-sentence, mid-breath.

Time didn’t stop—but something deeper did.

The moment the light brushed their skin, they felt it—not on the surface, but deep beneath everything they’d ever known.

It was warm without heat. Weight without pressure. Sound without noise. A presence that threaded itself through the very air and wrapped around the soul like a forgotten memory.

Some gasped. Some wept. Some dropped to their knees without knowing why.

It wasn’t painful.

It wasn’t joy.

It was everything—raw, real, reverent.

They felt seen. As if the universe had turned its eye to them—not to judge, but to remember.

For a few heartbeats, there were no doubts, no questions, no fear.

Only stillness.

And the impossible truth that something greater had touched them—and left something behind.

Weeks passed.

And then something strange began to happen.

Not to everyone—but to enough.

Ordinary men, women, children, teens… suddenly weren’t ordinary anymore.

They began to discover things.

Supernatural powers that defied every law we thought we understood—strange, terrifying, breathtaking things.

No one knew why it happened to them.

No one knew how.

Some saw a gift. Others, a curse.

And the worst of them—the ones who saw only opportunity—started to build thrones, not sanctuaries.

The old world—the one we thought we knew—began to crack.

Chaos. Fear. Greed. Power. Desperation. Madness. Corruption. And more.

Cities fell—some in hours. Some were swallowed by silence. Others by screams.

Millions died. Millions lost loved ones. 

Then, heroes emerged—symbols of hope in a world on the brink of collapse.

They rose when all seemed lost, fighting to restore peace and maintain the delicate balance of the world.

This was the world we inherited.

A world born in light. Reforged in fear. Carved by power.

New religions rose like phoenixes from ashes: The Church of Resonance. The Children of Lightfall. The Cult of Echoes.

Ruined cities became fortresses. New ones rose—vertical, floating, buried deep underground.

Power shifted. Ideals mutated. Secret factions warred over what the Lightfall meant.

A hundred ideologies. A hundred definitions of truth. All born from one moment.

And still, no one knows what the Lightfall was. Where it came from. Or if it’s ever coming back.

Some believe it had a will. A consciousness. A purpose.

And if that’s true… then maybe it’s still out there. Somewhere. Watching. Waiting.

Fifty years later…

The story some how started with me as I stepped off the train, its silver body gleaming like a blade beneath the rising sun.

The floor shifted beneath my feet as it settled—a soft tremor rising through the platform and into my legs.

A chime echoed through the station, followed by the smooth hiss and slide of the doors behind me.

Cool, recycled air spilled out, brushing my skin like the breath of a world faster, louder than the one I’d left behind.

I adjusted the crossbody strap digging into my shoulder, fingers brushing the frayed edge of the fabric. As the weight dug in—familiar, grounding.

My sneakers tapped against the polished station floor, muffled by the low hum of the crowd and the sound of voices weaving together.

Life here moved fast. Too fast for someone like me, maybe.

Still—I stood there. Just for a moment. Still. Quiet. Letting it all wash over me.

I wasn’t in some ordinary city.

I was in one of the biggest cities in the world.

Elexers City.

Where ashes became light. Where the first heroes stood, and the rest of the world learned what it meant to follow.

Every street remembers. Every shadow holds a story.

To walk through this is to walk through the remnants of greatness—not just a city, but a promise made by those who rose when the world fell.

Stepping outside the train station.

Then I saw it. Something massive. Electric. Impossible to ignore.

The screen covered half a building, huge, glowing, alive.

It was written: THE HERO BOARD.

People below stood like worshippers at a digital altar—pointing, cheering, dreaming.

As I stood still. Staring.

Somewhere up there—maybe now, maybe once—were the Apex Pair. The greatest heroes of all time.

They weren’t myths. They were the reason I came.

And then the thought came: Me too.

One day… I’ll be up there.

The idea didn’t feel like a dream anymore.

It felt like a step.

The first one.

Even if it hurts.

Even if it breaks me.

Even if no one ever believed in me the way I believed in them—

I’d still take it.

Because I believe this world needs me more than anything and I will be there for it.

This might sound like my story, but if anyone deserves the title of protagonist… it’s him.

Cain

We’ll meet soon—and when we do, he’ll change my life in ways I couldn’t have imagined.

He’ll become my best friend.

My brother in all but blood.

Though part of me wishes he were one.

He helped me not by fixing me, not by being the answer to something I was missing—but simply by always standing beside me when I needed it most.

Meeting him was one of the best things that ever happened to me

And he's the kind of person stories can’t quite capture, because words don’t do him justice.

So I won’t try for now.

He’ll tell you his story himself.

For now, I’ll step aside.

Let him take the lead.

And if you thought I was the protagonist—

that’s on me. I just needed to slip in for a quick introduction.

But let me ask you a question …

what path would you choose, if you were in our world?