In the year 2027, something fell from the sky.
Not a meteor.
Not a satellite.
But something far older… and far more alive.
It didn't descend—it plunged, tearing through the atmosphere like a furious comet, screaming across the sky and slamming into the Earth with a detonation so massive it split a continent in half. What remained at the impact site would defy all logic and scientific reason.
They called it The Cradle—a swirling anomaly of shifting light, fractured physics, and impossible gravity that bent space like melted glass.
From the moment it landed… everything changed.
Forests twisted into eldritch groves. Beasts evolved into horrors. The rules that governed reality bled into chaos.
And worst of all…
People began to hear voices.
Some whispered.
Some cried.
Some screamed with joy or agony, echoing inside minds that could no longer tell dreams from waking.
Governments scrambled. But panic moved faster. The Global Authority stepped in, seized The Cradle, and launched Project Rogue.
Its goal?
Unlock what fell.
Harness it.
Control it.
Weaponize it.
Inside the heart of The Cradle, they found fragments—pulsing, radiant shards of incomprehensible energy. They defied all categorization.
Not alien.
Not man-made.
Divine.
Each piece hummed with consciousness. Some sang lullabies. Some recited forgotten prayers. Some wept for gods long dead.
The government named them Divine Cores.
Scientists called them living gods.
The public?
They never knew a damn thing.
Then the real horror began.
The Authority began forcing the Cores into synthetic vessels—artificial bodies designed to mimic flesh and spirit. Weapons of the future.
Gods made by man.
But the experiment failed.
The Cores resisted. The vessels shattered, mutated, or disappeared.
Some screamed as they were torn apart. Others simply winked out of existence like extinguished stars.
And then…
The Thresholds opened.
Tears in the fabric of reality. Bleeding scars left by divine backlash. Portals to other realms, overflowing with twisted monsters, lost relics, and beasts reshaped by wrathful divinity.
To survive, humanity forged a new path. A new generation.
Tamers.
Warriors bonded to beasts who survived the Thresholds. Fighters capable of awakening the strength hidden within.
But even among Tam—
RINGRINGRING.
"Damn. That novel was starting to look good for a minute."
Even though the start off was slightly cliche. He shrugged and a sigh escaped from Aquarius Von, a young man with dark brown eyes and a smooth fade that stayed sharp no matter the weather. He closed the glowing screen of his iPhone with a flick of his thumb, eyes narrowing at the time.
8:21pm.
"8:21? Not that late… might as well hit the gym for a good hour. Got that tournament in a week. Better be ready."
He wasn't gunning to go pro or anything. Boxing was just another tool in the belt—something to stay in shape and keep sharp. A side hustle born from Creed movies and late-night Rocky marathons. Add in his wrestling background, and you'd think he had a full-on combat resume.
Protection first. Discipline second.
Focus… well, that came and went.
He tossed a towel and gloves into his gym bag, slipped on his black Nike sneakers, and checked his planner.
"What is it today? Leg day? Fuck." He chuckled dryly. "Oh well. Best to get it over with."
He nodded once, a quiet smirk forming on his lips.
"Who's gonna carry the boats?"
With a small shake of his head, he looked toward the novel resting on the desk beside him. His eyes lingered on the cover—something about it had been calling to him lately.
'Just in case.'
He tucked it into the side pocket of his bag.
His one-bedroom apartment was modest but clean. Immaculate, even. Aquarius believed clutter poisoned the mind, and peace started with order. His mom raised him with that mindset—and she'd slap the soul out of him if she caught him slacking.
He grabbed a protein shake from the cabinet, slid it next to the book, then stepped out the front door.
The night air greeted him with a humid kiss, stars lazily twinkling through the scattered clouds above.
He paused, just for a moment.
"Love you, Ma."
The words drifted skyward, soft and honest.
Then he shook off the weight in his chest.
"Let's start off with a light jog to the gy—"
"Shut up, bitch!"
Aquarius blinked, his head turning toward the source.
Across the street, his neighbors—Tevin and Shay—were at it again. Loud. Heated. Toxic. Tevin was older, maybe late twenties. Shay was barely out of college. A walking reality show of red flags and missed therapy appointments.
He sighed, trying to refocus.
'Not my business.'
He bent slightly, preparing for his jog—
SMACK.
The sound echoed like a whip through the quiet neighborhood.
"You know that baby ain't mine, you cheating ass h—"
"Did you just put your hands on her?"
Aquarius dropped his bag without hesitation, the casual calm in his voice betraying the storm in his chest. He started walking toward them, eyes cold and steady.
"Aye man, mind your business," Tevin warned, raising his hands. "I fuck with you, Aqua, so go back to doing your jogging shit."
"Can't let that slide. Nev—"
BANG.
A single shot rang out.
Aquarius's arms dropped as his knees buckled.
His body hit the pavement with a dull thud, blood blooming across his shirt like a spreading rose.
"How you play Superman but not immune to bullets? Haha!" Tevin laughed, manic and cruel.
"NOO!!" Shay screamed, collapsing beside Aquarius.
Neither noticed the glow.
The bullet had torn through his gym bag… and struck the novel.
Crimson soaked the book's cover, and then—
It began to glow.
A soft hum turned into a blinding pulse.
Colors swirled, bending light into impossible shapes.
Symbols. Voices. Whispers in languages never spoken aloud.
And then—
[Harem Synthesis System has Activated.]
Bond Confirmed.
SSS-Rank Divine Core Compatibility: 100%
[Upgrade commenced]
Supreme Core
Host Identified: Aquarius Von
[Transportation beginning…]
[Complete.]
Air rushed into his lungs as Aquarius shot up, gasping like a man pulled from the depths of the ocean. His hand immediately touched the spot where the bullet had struck.
But there was no pain.
Only the memory of it.
And then—
A voice.
"Well well… isn't this a surprise?"
Smooth. Feminine. Sultry enough to wrap itself around his spine like silk and ice.
His head snapped toward the voice.
And he froze.
She stood before him—radiant, cold, and impossible.
Her eyes were a piercing pink, glowing faintly like twin moons over a black sea.
"…Who the hell are you?"
She smiled, fangs barely showing.
"You'll find out in due time. But for now… sleep, Master."
"Hu—"
A blinding white light swallowed him whole.
And the watery world around him—
vanished.
Meanwhile
"So what was the beast's name again? And what's up with this cold-ass environment?"
The speaker was a short, sharp-tongued young man with messy black hair and piercing blue eyes. Fin, always complaining, always half-freezing.
He looked to the two walking ahead of him—twins, both silver-haired and violet-eyed.
Shia, calm and collected, her long silver hair tied in a loose braid.
And Shane, cocky as ever, with short silver spikes and a skip in his step.
"Remember, Fin—this is one of those tundra E-Ranked Thresholds," Shia replied dryly. "Of course it's cold. And the beast we're tracking is a Tier 1 Sub-Zero Jaguar. Stay sharp."
Shane grinned. "Hope he's more of a challenge than those weak-ass ones we bagged earlier. This whole run's been way too eas—"
"Shut up, Shane."
Shane glanced back. "What'd you say, Fin?"
Shia rolled her eyes. 'Here those two idiots go again…'
She let out a long, visible sigh. Why couldn't I just do this alone?
She hated being grouped with them—not just because they were loud, but because her C-Ranked Divine Core kept her stuck at this level. Which meant she couldn't take on higher-tier Thresholds, and couldn't level up fast enough.
Worse yet, it meant she had to stay grouped with her obnoxious brother and his hyperactive best friend.
But then—
A sound.
Soft. Human.
Groaning?
She froze.
"Hm…?"
Up ahead, just past a glowing patch of frost-rooted moss, someone stirred.
A figure lay half-buried in the snow, his body faintly glowing with residual energy. As he began to move, she could make out more details:
Short white hair.
Peach-brown skin.
White short-sleeved shirt, black jeans, and clean white shoes that somehow didn't look worn at all.
"Guys—look!" she said, her voice sharp with sudden urgency.
She pointed ahead, eyes narrowing.
Who the hell was that?