Chapter 1: When the Stars Fell
They called it the Star Shower.
It began without warning—bright lights streaking across the sky like blessings from the heavens. Humanity stood in awe, their eyes reflecting the golden trails. They thought it was beautiful.
Until the sky caught fire.
Entire cities vanished in a breath of stardust and ash. Mountains split. Oceans boiled. Billions died within minutes. And from the wreckage… they came.
The Sloi—monstrous, dinosaur-like beasts, birthed in the aftermath of destruction. Creatures that should not have existed, yet ruled the new Earth with wings of shadow and eyes that glowed like miniature suns.
But even they feared the trees.
Across the scorched Earth sprouted towering, alien flora—trees with bark of obsidian and fruits that pulsed with celestial light. Sloillars, they were called. No one named them. The name simply came, like a whisper from the gods.
Each tree bore a single fruit.
Each fruit looked like a star.
And each star gave power.
Some granted strength. Others, flight. A rare few bent elements or space itself. But no gift came free. The gods were cruel artists. Each Sloillar carried a price—one only known after it was devoured.
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Stelae Zalai once believed in those legends.
As a child, he'd dreamed of magic, of prophecy, of gods and ancient power. He clung to his grandmother's stories like lifelines, spinning tales by candlelight while his sisters fell asleep in his arms and his little brother asked if he'd be a hero one day.
He believed in the Sloillars. In the Divine Tree. In the idea that when Earth was threatened, the gods would send down a wish.
Everyone else laughed.
They mocked his purple hair, called him cursed. Called him crazy. Teachers rolled their eyes. Friends vanished. Lockers vandalized. Dreams crushed. Eventually, he stopped believing.
He became quiet. Cold. A shell.
Until the stars actually fell.
Stelae was 17 when the apocalypse came. He remembered the screaming. Buildings collapsing. His sister's terrified face as she was pulled from his grip. His father shouting over the roar. Heat like the sun splitting him in two.
And then… something landed.
A tree. Black, with roots like lightning bolts tearing through the earth. Its single fruit pulsed, hovering in place, a golden star brighter than the sky. It floated down—softly, silently—and landed beside him.
A Sloillar.
He laughed. Or tried to. He thought he was dead. Hallucinating. Dreaming some final fever dream. But the fruit glowed against his skin, humming softly. As if calling to him.
With what little strength he had left, he reached out.
Fingers cracked. Muscles tore. Agony screamed through every fiber of his body. But he touched it.
And ate it.
The light surged into his chest like wildfire. For a moment, he felt alive—more alive than he'd ever been. His pain vanished. His blood stopped flowing. His vision cleared.
And then… nothing happened.
No magic. No powers. No healing.
Just silence.
Was it a lie? Was the fruit just a dream?
As his eyes closed, he thought he heard... laughter. Faint, distant. Like the gods were mocking him.
He passed out with those questions echoing in his head.
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He didn't die.
Day 1 He woke up.
He couldn't even move his head, only stare at the sky above—dark blue, veiled in smoke and ash.
The air was thick and heavy, gritty with dust.
How the hell am I still alive?
Day 2 This is boring. Is this death?
Maybe I couldn't even move. So it probably was.
Day 5 He didn't eat. Didn't drink. Didn't move. Yet he was alive.
Is this an illusion? Maybe I'm in a coma?
He heard only wind and crumbling ruins. The world outside him faded, silent.
Day 30 How? Just how? Why? If I'm gonna die, let me die already!
Day 100 The earth had begun to change. Greener. Quieter. Trees emerged from ash, and the sky remained a constant, haunting shade of dark blue.
100 days of nothing. Of breathing but not living.
Is this a world record? I guess I'm special now.
Year 1 This has to be a world record. I haven't moved a single inch, and I'm still awake.
Is this what people mean when they say "touch grass"?
His body, and the school he once knew, were overgrown—lost beneath vines, moss, and the roots of a massive tree.
Every day, he watched it: a tree of shimmering blue leaves, glowing softly, unnaturally. Divine.
It grew slowly but surely. And it watched with him.
Rain fell. Animals returned. Grass overtook cracked concrete. The wind whispered through branches. And Stelae remained—unmoving, unblinking, unaging.
Year 10 He heard them: screeches that didn't belong to any known creature. Sounds like monsters. Sounds that made the trees go silent.
The tree above him had grown massive, blanketing him from the world. Its roots cradled his body like a shrine.
Why, gods?
Why bomb us with stars?
I thought you were merciful.
But this was real. Not a dream. Not a legend. The stories were true.
Year 100 What's the point of fantasy if I can't move?I'm practically a trash can at this point.
Vines wrapped around his arms. Moss covered his chest. Even the Sloillars Tree's roots grew across his legs.
Year 1,000 Forests swallowed the ruins of the old world. Towering creatures with wings the size of cities flew overhead. The Sloi had evolved—intelligent, tribal, savage and capable of hunting their prey without question.
They were dominant in the food chain.
Absolute Monsters
They started to paint symbols on stone, or mourn their dead with shrieking song.
He could hear them sometimes. Hear them speak. Hear them fight.
And still he watched. Still he waited. The tree swayed in the breeze. And he remained, forgotten.
How much longer?I think I might lose all my sanity at this point.
This is torture.
Pure torture.
You gods will pay. For wiping out humanity. For abandoning me.
I used to believe in you. I used to love your stories.
But now? You're nothing but almighty scumbags.
Year 2,300,000
His finger twitched.
What?
Wait… this can't be, can it?
He moved his head. Then his arm. His body.
It was stiff. Unused. But it moved.
He collapsed again, breathless.
Ain't no way.
I have no clue how many years it's been... but I'm guessing over two million.
I'm finally free.
If the legends are true—the ones Grandma told me—then somewhere out there is the Divine Tree of Sloillars. A tree that grants any wish.
I will find it.
I will tear those gods apart.
I will bring back my family—Mom, Dad, Grandma… my little brother, my sisters.
And I will restore humanity.
His golden eyes shimmered with rage.
You will pay.
And I won't stop until that day comes.