In the late 2020s, as technology surged forward and the world became more connected than ever, something quietly began to fade.
People started to forget.
The old tales, the whispered myths, legend and the sacred folklore passed down for generations, they were dismissed as fantasy. Even the gods that once received offerings and prayers were reduced to characters in dusty storybooks.
Ancient practices, once deeply woven into everyday life, began to decay. Shrines were abandoned. Rituals have lost their meaning. Belief turned into mockery. Superstition, they called it.
And in that blind rush toward progress something began to stir.
Some of those ancient beings simply ceased to exist, starved of belief. Others rebelled, turning violent or mad. And a few, simply clung to existence, desperate to survive in a world that had forgotten them.
Yet throughout history, there were always individuals born with the gift to perceive and interact with the unseen.
They were known by many names: mediums, shamans, priestesses, monks, exorcists.
But across cultures and centuries, one title endured—though rarely spoken in public.
Guardians
These rare individuals served as the bridge between the living and the supernatural.
Communicators. Protectors. Shelters.
And whether the world remembered them or not, they continued to work in the shadows—operating in secret, scattered across the globe, from the quiet villages of Asia to the ancient cities of Europe.
For many of them, the gift was not random.
They came from ancient bloodlines, families whose lineage stretched back centuries. Their powers were inherited, passed down from one generation to the next, along with sacred duties.
Each country had its own Guardians, trained from youth, bound by legacy to fulfill their roles in silence. Their duty was absolute: to protect the human realm from supernatural interference, and to maintain the fragile balance between the seen and the unseen.
To prepare them for such burdens, a network of secret academies was established, hidden sanctuaries where young Guardians could train, refine their abilities, and learn the truths the world had long abandoned.
Currently, there were four such academies scattered across the globe:
One in Europe.
One in North America.
One in Central Asia.
And the last, perhaps the oldest, was in Japan.
Seigetsu Academy.
But of course, where there are protectors, there are also those who seek to exploit.
Throughout the world, secret organizations have emerged—groups that hunt, trap, and experiment on supernatural entities for their own gain. Some pose as inventors, using technology to manipulate the unseen. Others operate as dark cults, twisting ancient rituals to serve their desires.
They do not seek balance.
They seek power.
To them, spirits and beings from the other side are nothing more than tools—creatures to be captured, dissected, or controlled.
For the Guardians, the threat is not only the malevolent supernatural but also those humans who dare to play gods.
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Markara's point of view
It was hard to believe.
This kid, Ren, had just unloaded an entire story that sounded like something straight out of a fantasy story, and all I could do was nod along like I understood any of it.
Guardians? Spirits? Secret clubs?
I mean, sure, I was raised in a church. I'd seen Father and Sister Vatey pray every morning with unwavering faith. And, honestly… there was something warm and comforting in the way they spoke to the divine—like they were truly being heard.
But believing in something just because it felt right?
That wasn't enough for me.
Science teaches us that existence needs proof.
And anything without proof… was just nonsense.
And yet—here I was. Following Ren across the campus like I had nothing better to do.
It was already nighttime—8 PM, to be exact—and the school grounds had gone quiet. The moon was out, casting long shadows over the path. I was fine with being out this late, but Ren? He was still just a kid.
Was he not even a little scared of walking around this late? What if someone tried to kidnap him? And more importantly…
He just met me today, and he's already dragging me along like we've been friends for years.
'Lucky for him, I'm not a psycho.'
However, I still couldn't get over how massive this campus was—especially the dormitories. They weren't all in one place, either. The buildings were scattered all over like someone just dropped them randomly across the grounds.
Right now, we had arrived at one of the dorms that was way out on the opposite side of campus from my own. It looked older, quieter.
At the very least, I should've messaged Mei or Elizabeth to let them know I'd be late, I thought, a flicker of guilt hitting me.
We crouched behind a bush near the edge of the building, and I found myself whispering without even meaning to.
"Umm… Ren? Why are we here?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he turned to me and raised a finger to his lips.
"Shhh."
His expression was serious now, eyes locked on the building ahead like he was waiting for something.
Just then, the sound of footsteps approached.
We ducked a little lower behind the bush as a small group of students appeared, flashlights in hand and what looked like tools, maybe a net gun, baseball bats.
"Are you sure you saw a floating light orb around here?" one of them whispered.
"Yes! I swear!" another replied, almost breathless. "It was hovering out of the forest. I saw it last week !"
"Could've been a drone," someone muttered.
"No way! It moved like it was alive!"
The group huddled closer together, scanning the dorm with their equipment.
From where I crouched, I glanced at Ren.
His eyes narrowed, focused—completely unfazed.
'Just what kind of task did we get ourselves into?'