The rich aroma of breakfast filled the air. Anand cut into his food with slow, deliberate movements, as though nothing in the world could hurry him. Across the table, Aryan sat stiff, his mind torn between panic and duty.
Anand finally looked up, his gaze steady.
"So… how is the outside world?"
Aryan hesitated. "From where should I even begin?"
"Pretend I know nothing," Anand replied. He sipped his juice, the rings on his hand glinting faintly. "Start there."
Aryan drew in a breath and leaned forward.
"Fifty-three years ago, everything changed. Gates opened—tearing holes in reality. Skies turned blood-red, animals twisted into monsters… and then came the waves. An endless tide poured out of those gates. In a single week, forty percent of the world's population was gone."
Anand's fork stilled. "Half the world… erased in days?"
Aryan nodded grimly. "Nations collapsed. The Black Dragon Society lost a third of its strength. Three Dragon Families wiped out. Of thirty-six noble houses, only thirteen endured."
Silence lingered. Anand resumed eating, his expression calm, but his eyes sharp. "And humanity? How did it survive?"
"That's when the Arisen appeared—humans with powers. Some fought for themselves, but a few stood on the frontlines, holding back the tide. Two in particular… became legends. The Dual Saints. Without them, civilization would've fallen."
"And the monsters?" Anand pressed.
"They weren't all alike. Five of them were… different. Divine Beasts. Intelligent. Terrifying. Three chose humans as their contractors. One slumbers in Antarctica. Another is still missing."
Anand leaned back, brow furrowed. "So the balance of the world rests on contracts with monsters?"
Aryan's voice lowered. "Not just that. The Gates never stopped. Power shifted. Governments tried to hold on, but guilds and families rose above them. In the East, four powers emerged: Russia's Iron Vanguard, China's Azure Dragon Dojo, the UAE's Sovereign Oasis… and the Patil Family. Your family."
"And in the West?"
"They united under one banner—the Western United Nations. But real power lies with the Valemont family, not the government. Around them, eight allied houses keep their grip strong. Their capital, New Avalon, is where the Western Saint resides. He runs the academy there. Even the Valemonts can't fully control him."
Anand's eyes narrowed. "So saints stand apart from politics."
"Exactly. The East has its own saint, too. He founded the Eastern Academy, in the City of Dawn. That's where the next generation of Arisen are trained."
Anand's lips curved into a faint smile. "So the world has shifted into two halves. Four families in the East… one dynasty in the West."
"Yes. And during those six months when the sky ran red, children were born stronger than any before. The Saints saw it coming. They built academies to shape the next generation—before fate could twist them otherwise."
Aryan's voice dropped, a shadow crossing his face.
"And still, the Patil Family was tested. Nobles betrayed us. Old enemies united. But the leader had already seen it coming. Reforms, shadows, and preparation… The traitors were erased. Those who lived… endured five years of forced labor."
Anand finally set his fork down, his smile slow, knowing, almost proud.
"So. The Society learned well."
Aryan swallowed, unsure if that smile comforted him—or terrified him.