Chapter 1: The Last Awakening
The crimson dawn of Aethros Prime painted the sky in shades of burning copper, its massive sun three times larger than the pale yellow star that had once warmed humanity's lost homeworld. Through the bio-glass windows of the Academy of Unified Knowledge, the morning light cast long shadows across rows of desks where two species sat side by side, yet worlds apart.
Bhoumik Pal adjusted his black leather jacket, the material creaking softly as he leaned back in his chair. His long raven-black hair was pulled back and secured with a silver hairpin, a few rebellious strands framing his angular face. The gold-silver earrings caught the morning light as he turned his head, his icy black eyes deep as endless nightmares fixed on the holographic display at the front of the classroom. His yellowish skin, so distinctly human compared to the varied hues of his native classmates, seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it.
At seventeen, Bhoumik had reached the age where hope died for humans. The Awakening Ceremony had come and gone three days ago, and like every year, the precious fruits that could unlock a human's cultivation potential had been distributed with brutal efficiency. Nine hundred to the natives, as was their right by bloodline and hierarchy. One hundred left for the humans to fight over like scraps.
He hadn't even qualified for the competition.
"The Seventeen Celestial Forms," Professor Kael'thor intoned, his four muscular arms moving in perfect synchronization as ethereal blue energy danced between his fingers like living silk, "require absolute precision in essence manipulation. The energy must flow like the great rivers of Vel'tar, smooth and inexorable, yet strike with the fury of lightning when properly channeled through the meridian pathways."
The professor was a magnificent specimen of the Aethrosian race eight feet tall with skin like polished obsidian, his primary eyes glowing a soft amber while his secondary optical organs tracked the energy patterns he created. His teaching robes, woven from essence-infused fibers, rippled with power that made the air itself hum.
Beside Bhoumik, Lunethra shifted in her seat, the movement causing her form-fitting academy uniform to stretch across her voluptuous curves. The native girl was a vision that had captured the attention of every male in the academy, human and native alike. Her skin was a luminous pearl-white with subtle undertones of silver that seemed to shimmer when she moved. Long, silky silver hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of moonlight, occasionally stirring as if moved by invisible currents of essence.
But it was her eyes that truly marked her as extraordinary among her people. Two normal eyes, a striking violet color that seemed to hold depths of ancient wisdom, flanked the vertical third eye centered on her forehead. This mystical organ, currently closed in a peaceful expression, was said to grant those of the highest bloodlines the ability to perceive the flow of essence itself, to see the very fabric of reality.
Her figure was breathtaking generous curves that spoke of both beauty and strength, the kind of physique that could grace ancient sculptures while hiding the deadly power that flowed through her meridians. The way her uniform clung to her shapely form had been the subject of countless daydreams among the male students, though none would dare voice such thoughts aloud. She was, after all, nobility among the Aethrosians, her bloodline tracing back to the first settlers of this world.
"Bhoumik," she whispered, her voice like silk brushing against stone. Her full lips barely moved as she spoke, conscious of the professor's attention. "Why have you been so distant these past few days? I know the awakening ceremony didn't go as you hoped, but—"
"There was no hope to begin with," Bhoumik interrupted, his voice barely above a breath. His fingers absently traced the edge of his desk, the motion betraying the careful control he maintained over his emotions. "Let's not pretend otherwise, Lunethra."
Her violet eyes flickered with something that might have been pain, though whether for him or because of his cold response, he couldn't tell. The vertical eye on her forehead twitched slightly, a sign of emotional distress among her people.
"You're brilliant," she pressed on, leaning closer. The subtle scent of her perfume something like night-blooming jasmine mixed with essence-charged ozone filled his senses. "Your understanding of quantum mechanics and dimensional theory surpasses even some of our master engineers. Your future doesn't have to be defined by cultivation alone."
Bhoumik's grip tightened on his stylus, the metal groaning under the pressure. Around them, native students effortlessly manipulated streams of essence, their powers as natural as breathing. Those few humans who had been lucky enough to receive awakening fruits in previous years struggled to keep pace, their artificially unlocked abilities pale shadows of their classmates' natural gifts.
"Yeah," he said, his voice hollow and distant. "Brilliant. Just brilliant enough to know exactly what I'll never be."
The words hung in the air between them like a physical barrier. Lunethra's expression softened, her third eye opening slightly to reveal a pupil that swirled with silver light. For a moment, she seemed to see something in him that even he couldn't recognize, but then Professor Kael'thor's voice boomed across the classroom.
"Miss Vel'thara, perhaps you'd like to demonstrate the Third Celestial Form for the class?"
Lunethra straightened, her cheeks flushing with a pale silver that made her even more beautiful. "Of course, Professor."
She rose from her seat with fluid grace, her movements so elegant they seemed choreographed. As she walked to the front of the classroom, every eye followed her, drawn by the subtle sway of her hips and the confidence that radiated from her very being. Her uniform a dark blue jacket and skirt that marked her as a senior student—couldn't hide the perfection of her form.
Taking position at the center of the demonstration area, Lunethra closed her normal eyes and opened her third eye fully. The vertical pupil dilated, revealing swirling galaxies of silver and violet light that seemed to peer into dimensions beyond mortal comprehension. She raised her arms, and the very air around her began to shimmer.
Essence flowed to her like a living thing, drawn by the sheer force of her bloodline. The energy took the form of crystalline butterflies that danced around her figure, each one perfect in its geometric complexity. With a gesture, she sent them spiraling upward, where they exploded into cascades of light that painted rainbow patterns across the classroom ceiling.
The display was flawless, a demonstration of power and control that would have been impressive even among the academy's instructors. When she finished, returning to her seat amid scattered applause, Bhoumik found himself staring at her with an expression he couldn't quite define.
"Show off," he murmured, but there was no malice in his voice. If anything, there was a hint of admiration, quickly suppressed.
"I was thinking of you," she admitted quietly as she settled back into her chair. "The butterflies... they're meant to represent transformation. Even when something seems impossible, change can still come."
Before Bhoumik could respond, the academy bells chimed the end of the morning session. The sound reverberated through the massive structure, a building that rose nearly a kilometer into the sky and housed over fifty thousand students from across the planet. It was a marvel of both native architecture and human engineering, its bio-grown walls integrated with quantum processors and essence-circulation systems.
Students began filing out of the classroom, natives floating effortlessly while humans walked. The casual display of power was so routine that no one remarked on it anymore, but Bhoumik felt each demonstration like a knife twist in his chest.
"Bhoumik," Lunethra called as he gathered his belongings. "Would you like to join me for lunch? There's a new restaurant in the Harmony District that serves both human and Aethrosian cuisine."
For a moment, he was tempted. The idea of spending time with her, away from the constant reminders of his limitations, held genuine appeal. But then he saw the way other students looked at them some with amusement, others with disapproval. A human boy with a native girl of noble blood was a novelty at best, a scandal at worst.
"I have things to do," he said, not meeting her eyes. "Maybe another time."
The hurt that flashed across her features was quickly hidden, but her third eye betrayed her emotions by dimming slightly. "Of course. I understand."
But she didn't understand, and that was part of the problem. How could someone born to power and privilege truly comprehend what it meant to be powerless? How could she grasp the weight of being a reminder of humanity's failure, living proof that his species had fallen so far from their ancestors' greatness?
Bhoumik made his way through the academy's corridors, past murals depicting the great alliance between humans and natives, past statues of the first generation who had supposedly worked together to build this society. The propaganda was beautiful and inspiring, but it couldn't hide the fundamental truth: this was not a partnership of equals.
The subway station beneath the academy was a testament to human ingenuity. Magnetic levitation trains capable of crossing continents in hours, powered by fusion reactors that could run for centuries without maintenance. Yet even here, in the depths of their own creation, humans were relegated to the lower platforms while natives enjoyed the premium surface routes.
Bhoumik's train arrived with a soft whisper of displaced air. The cars were sleek and comfortable, but sparsely populated during the midday period. He found a seat near the window and watched the city flash by as they accelerated to nearly a thousand kilometers per hour.
New Harmony was a city of contradictions. Towering spires of living crystal grown by native earth-shapers stood alongside human skyscrapers of steel and glass. Gardens floated in mid-air, tended by natives who could manipulate plant growth with their essence, while human-built mag-lev highways wove between them in carefully calculated patterns. It was beautiful, undeniably so, but it was also a constant reminder of the division between the two species.
His stop was in the residential district where his family lived, a area designed to accommodate both human and native architectural preferences. The houses were larger here, with traditional Earth-style courtyards that his parents' generation had insisted upon. It was a touch of home for a people who had never seen home.
The Pal family residence was a two-story structure built around a central courtyard, its design echoing the traditional homes of ancient Earth. Bhoumik had always loved the way the morning light played across the stone pathways, the way the small garden in the center seemed to create a pocket of peace in the midst of an alien world.
"Mom? Dad? I'm home!" His voice echoed through the empty rooms, bouncing off walls that suddenly seemed too large, too quiet.
Silence answered him, as it had for the past two months. Dr. Vikram Pal and Dr. Yue Lian were among the most respected human scientists on Aethros Prime, their expertise in quantum mechanics and dimensional theory making them valuable enough to warrant native respect. But their current project, something involving the integration of human technology with native cultivation techniques, had taken them to the far reaches of the planet.
Bhoumik moved through the house like a ghost, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpets his mother had insisted upon. Everything was exactly as his parents had left it research papers scattered across his father's desk, his mother's cultivation manuals bookmarked with notes in three different languages, photos of their small family arranged throughout the living spaces.
The silence was oppressive, filled with the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled expectations. His parents had never said it aloud, but he knew they had hoped he would be different, that somehow their son would be the one to bridge the gap between human limitation and native power. Instead, he was just another reminder of their species' decline.
Seeking comfort, Bhoumik made his way to his parents' bedroom. The spacious room was dominated by a massive bed carved from Aethrosian ironwood, its surface polished to a mirror shine. Along one wall, a collection of photographs showed the progression of their family life his birth, his first steps, his enrollment in the academy, and dozens of moments in between.
In the early photos, his parents looked young and hopeful, their eyes bright with the possibility of a future where their son might achieve things they had only dreamed of. In the later images, hope had been tempered by reality, though love remained constant.
As Bhoumik studied the photographs, something caught his eye. Near the corner of the room, one of the marble floor tiles sat slightly askew, revealing a dark gap beneath. His parents were meticulous about their living space, almost obsessively so. Such an imperfection would never have been left unattended.
Curious, he knelt and attempted to shift the heavy stone. It moved more easily than expected, sliding aside to reveal a hidden compartment carved into the foundation itself. Inside, wrapped in preservation cloth, was an ancient wooden chest.
The chest was unlike anything he had ever seen. The wood was dark and dense, with a grain pattern that seemed to shift and flow like liquid when viewed from different angles. The surface was covered in intricate carvings that definitely weren't of native origin too geometric, too precise, lacking the organic flow that characterized Aethrosian art. But they weren't recognizably human either, at least not from any Earth culture he had studied.
The lock was a masterpiece of mechanical engineering, a complex puzzle mechanism with dozens of interlocking components. Each piece had to be manipulated in a specific sequence, requiring both spatial reasoning and an intuitive understanding of the designer's intent. It took Bhoumik nearly two hours of careful work, his fingers growing numb from the intricate manipulations.
Click.
The final tumbler fell into place with a sound that seemed to echo through dimensions. As the ancient chest began to creak open, a faint glow emanated from within, casting shadows that danced like living things across the walls. The air itself seemed to thicken with anticipation, and Bhoumik could swear he heard the whisper of voices speaking in languages that predated known civilization.
Whatever his parents had hidden here, whatever secret had been buried beneath their home for unknown years, was about to change everything.
His hands trembled as he reached for the lid, not knowing that this single moment would divide his life into before and after before he knew the truth about humanity's fall, and after he discovered the power to rise again.