The academy expedition was meant to be simple.
Students were sent to study ancient ruins beyond the northern hills—a lesson in history and magical residue. But the moment Ethan stepped onto the broken stone road, his chest burned.
The Fate Mark reacted.
"This place…" Ethan muttered. "It feels familiar."
Lyria looked around, uneasy. The ruins stretched endlessly—collapsed towers, shattered gates, and streets swallowed by silence. This was once a kingdom.
A fallen one.
As they reached the central plaza, a massive broken statue came into view. Its face was cracked, but the symbol carved on its chest was clear.
It was the same mark Ethan carried.
The ground trembled.
Visions flooded Ethan's mind—cities burning, soldiers screaming, a man standing alone as silver energy tore the sky apart.
He fell to his knees.
"This kingdom was destroyed by someone with the Fate Mark," Master Alaric said gravely. "History calls him a savior… and a disaster."
Fear spread through the students.
Lyria gripped Ethan's hand. "That doesn't mean you'll be the same."
Ethan looked at the ruins, heart heavy.
"Power like mine has already ended a world," he said quietly. "What if I'm walking the same path?"
Before anyone could answer, dark figures rose from the shadows—ancient guardians, awakened by Ethan's presence.
"Defensive formation!" Alaric shouted.
Ethan stood.
"I'll handle this."
Silver energy wrapped around him, controlled and sharp. This time, he didn't lose himself. The guardians fell one by one.
When silence returned, Ethan stared at the ruined kingdom once more.
He understood now.
His power wasn't new.
It was a legacy.
And legacies demanded choices.