The sea was quiet now, almost guilty after the chaos it had unleashed. The vast, turbulent grey had retreated, replaced by a deceptive calm. Elios's crude, handmade boat scraped against the black, volcanic sands of an island that, by all known rules of geography, should not exist.
He had finally reached the island he had dreamt of for years—the forgotten, secret continent. But something felt profoundly wrong. Dead, twisted trees loomed over him, their branches like skeletal hands against the blood-orange sky. Ancient, crumbling ruins dotted the shoreline, and etched deep into the decaying stone was the exact same Mysterious Symbol that haunted his childhood dreams and his father's diary.
The twin suns of this strange land scorched mercilessly, draining the last vestiges of his strength with every agonizing step. Elios forced himself forward, driven by the burning memory of his mother's illness and his father's vow. He absolutely refused to give up, but his body betrayed him. The exhaustion of the sea voyage finally won. He stumbled, collapsing face-first into the strange, fine black sands—and they began, horrifyingly, to pull him under, dissolving around his sinking weight.
Darkness.
A familiar, desperate cry tore from his subconscious. "MOM!"
Elios jolted awake, his eyes snapping open. He was no longer sinking into sand. He was lying on a violet-coloured bed that seemed to jiggle like jelly beneath him. When he instinctively got down, the entire wooden house shook beneath his feet with a disconcerting WUB-WUB-WUB sound.
"Where am I? What is this place?" he muttered, his voice hoarse, eyes darting around the small, cluttered room. The walls were made of a luminous, organic material, and the air smelled faintly of burnt ozone and rubber.
A loud, booming shout came from immediately outside the structure, startling him.
"LOOK! THE HOUSE IS SHAKING… HE CAME BACK TO LIFE!"
Elios stumbled toward the door, his mind racing to process the sensory overload of this new world. As he stepped out, trying to get his bearings, a head alone popped right in front of his face—its lower body still strangely distant, ten feet away, seemingly traveling through the air.
The man's body snapped back together like elastic rubber, the pieces reuniting with a soft, audible thwump, and he grinned cheerfully, his expression absurdly open and welcoming.
"Ha! Two days you were out cold! That devouring sand almost took you," the man said, clapping his hands with a sound like slapping wet leather. "Don't worry, kiddo—I saved you from that nasty tide. Name is Flexo Rubberon, from the Rubberon Clan!"
Elios stared, speechless, his mind struggling to classify this impossible being. The man looked absurdly flexible, stretching his neck and limbs as he spoke—and was weirdly optimistic for a resident of such a dark land.
Flexo chuckled, clearly enjoying the reaction, and showed off his ability, stretching one arm across the entire room to casually tap a wooden shelf. The arm retracted with a snap.
"It's not magic, kid. It's AETHER-POWER, contained and focused by an ARTIFACT RING." He held up his hand, displaying a simple, violet ring glowing with a faint, steady light.
Elios gasped, the word escaping him with awe. "Ohhh, wow! Magic!"
Flexo immediately slapped his own forehead in an exaggerated motion, his hand flattening against his skull. "Are you dumb? It's not magic! It's science, energy, power! We call it Aether here, the building block of Wonderfaa!"
The strange, rubbery man with the violet ring was not even the weirdest thing Elios would see on the island, but he certainly took the top spot for a first impression.
Flexo eyed him curiously, his rubbery grin softening slightly. "Who are you, kid? Never seen you around. You look like you have never even heard of an Artifact Ring or Aether. Which continent are you from?"
Before Elios could form a comprehensive answer—or even start explaining his father's blood-vow and the diary—his entire body went rigid. His eyes froze, locked on the street behind Flexo.
A man was passing directly through a colossal, GIGANTIC GATE—and his arms bore the exact same symbol Elios's father once drew in blood. The gate itself, a towering structure of obsidian and iron, had that very symbol carved deep into its ominous centre. This was it. The source. The mystery.
Elios's pulse raced violently, the blood surging in his ears, drowning out all other sounds. He had to see what lay beyond that gate. He darted off, the exhaustion instantly forgotten, ignoring Flexo's confused shout echoing behind him.
"You are not allowed! That's the ROYAL GATE, kid! Get back here!"
Elios didn't stop. But before he could reach the massive, foreboding structure, the heavy iron gate slammed shut with a deafening clang that shook the ground. Searching desperately, his eyes spotted a narrow, barely visible opening in the wall, formed by centuries of crumbling rock. He began to climb, pulling his body up. Step by small step, rock by painful rock, ignoring the fear.
Then—
A deafening, skull-rattling explosion. Fire curled up the ancient pillars of the gate, twisting the ironwork. The stench of burning metal and smoke filled the air, acrid and sharp. The ground trembled violently beneath him, but Elios kept climbing, driven by a desperate curiosity and the urge to know why that man bore the symbol.
Inside, the simple bullock cart that had entered moments ago had exploded. From the smoke and debris emerged a towering KNIGHT WARRIOR, clad in thick, specialized armor and wielding a massive, jagged sword. The ox-driver and passengers lay gruesomely dead, casualties of the sudden, brutal attack.
The warrior fought his way through the chaos of the courtyard, cutting down every Royal Guard in his path with terrifying efficiency.
From his precarious perch on the crumbling wall, Elios watched the carnage unfold in a mixture of raw horror and profound awe. A small, dark-furred monkey sat beside him, watching too, eerily calm and unbothered by the death unfolding below.
The Giant was enormous, a mountain of flesh and muscle, his sword as long and thick as a tree trunk. The Knight attacked him, but the Giant barely flinched or moved. With a single, contemptuous shove, he sent the Knight crashing hard to the ground. The Giant then pressed his enormous, iron-shod boot onto the Knight's chest and laughed thunderously, the sound echoing off the high walls.
"You worthless fool! HAHAHA! While I guard the Royal Gate, not even a mosquito enters without my permission!"
THE KNIGHT'S DESPERATION
The Knight Warrior, pinned by the crushing weight of the boot, let out a muffled roar of defiance. A sudden, brilliant azure light erupted from his gauntlets—a desperate surge of Aether-Power.
"GET OFF ME!" the Knight bellowed.
He poured raw, volatile Aether into his gauntlets, and with a grunt that spoke of pure, agonizing effort, he pushed up. The cobblestones beneath the Giant's boot cracked and shattered from the pressure, forcing the massive guard to lift his foot an inch.
The Knight instantly rolled free, scrambling backward. His heavy steel armor was dented and scored, but his eyes, visible through the helm's slit, burned with a terrifying, single-minded focus. He wasn't fighting for himself—he was fighting to buy time.
"You brought shame to this continent!" the Knight spat, clutching his sword. "You allow your leaders to hide the cure while people die!"
The Giant's laughter vanished, replaced by a cold, murderous fury. "Silence, traitor! Your pathetic sacrifice changes nothing!"
The Giant roared, swinging his colossal sword in a sweeping, horizontal arc. It wasn't just metal; it was laced with dark, vibrating Aether, meant to sheer the Knight in half.
The Knight knew he couldn't block it. Instead, he channeled the last of his energy into a desperate, impossible move. He took a wide, painful stance and slammed his own sword hilt into the ground.
"Azure Shield!" he screamed.
A translucent dome of blue Aether instantly flared to life, not just around him, but surrounding the remnants of the broken cart and the wall behind him. The Giant's dark sword slammed into the shield with the force of a battering ram, and the energy dome fractured, spitting shards of brilliant blue light. The Knight's sword in the ground snapped at the base, but the shield held for a single, critical heartbeat.
It was just enough time for the Knight to look up at the Giant—a look of exhausted triumph mixed with sorrow.
The Giant was furious. He didn't raise his sword again; instead, he used a direct blast of raw Aether—a dark, purple-black energy that coalesced around his fist. The air screamed as he punched the already-fractured Knight.
The dark Aether punched through the Knight's chest plate like a cannonball.
The Knight Warrior collapsed, utterly ruined, his blue Aether fading from his body like a dying flame. The Giant stood over him, breathing heavily, pride and rage warring in his massive chest.
"You failed," the Giant hissed, raising his sword one last time. "You gave everything for nothing."
He brought the blade down, a sickening finality to the movement. The blade pierced through the armor and bone. Blood erupted, spilling everywhere… and then vanished, consumed by the strange, black sands beneath the courtyard. The body beneath the armor shrivelled, leaving behind only a hollow, lifeless skeleton. The surviving guards howled with bloodthirsty laughter.
Elios trembled, his breath shallow, his body convulsing on the wall. He had just witnessed the price of defiance on this island. The pebbles slipped from the wall. The monkey stayed utterly still.
The Giant looked up...
Before the towering guard could react, Flexo's stretching, rubbery arm shot out like a whip, wrapping tightly around Elios and the calm monkey, yanking them both forcefully away from danger just as the Giant's hand slammed into the stone where they had been.
Elios had come for his father—but he had just met his funeral.
That day, the strange, rubbery Flexo Rubberon truly saved Elios Laston's life.