The night was silent, except for the faint wail of a newborn. In the grand Alpha family mansion, four babies had been born that evening. Three were strong, their tiny bodies brimming with the promise of greatness. But the fourth… the fourth was weak.
The father, a proud Alpha patriarch, stared down at the frail infant in his hands, his face cold as stone. "This one… will bring shame to our lineage," he muttered. "It must be done."
The order was given without hesitation. The weak Alpha was to be killed. The only one tasked with carrying out the grim duty was the old witch, a woman feared even among the Alphas. She held the baby's tiny hand in hers, prepared to end a life before it began.
But then… a vision came.
The witch saw flashes of a future—of power, of fire, of destiny. She saw the boy growing into someone who would shape the fate of the Alpha world itself. No one else could know. No one could interfere. She made a choice.
With trembling hands, she wrapped the infant in a cloth of scarlet red, the color of blood and destiny. Without a word, she carried him far away from the city of Alphas, leaving the infant at the edge of a quiet road.
It was there that fate intervened.
A carriage approached, carrying a couple who had longed for a child for many years. The woman, exhausted and pregnant with hope that would never be fulfilled, urged the coach to stop. She stepped down, desperate to ease her body, and that's when she saw him.
A baby, swaddled in crimson cloth, lying as if placed by destiny itself. She instinctively reached for him, cradling him in her arms. The child was heavier than she expected, but she ignored it. His small hand curled around hers, warm and stubborn, like he refused to be abandoned.
"Take him," the man said softly, seeing the woman's eyes widen with awe and hope. "Perhaps… perhaps this is the miracle we've been waiting for."
The couple named him Alexander Daniel, after the family name that ran through the father's side. Nothing seemed unusual about him—yet the truth was hidden. Alpha powers, true power, would only manifest when he turned eight. Until then, he was just a fragile, beautiful child in a world that would not treat him gently.
Even in his new home, life was fragile. Alexander's adoptive mother was gravely ill, suffering from cancer. Doctors had given her only ten days to live. Despite her wealth—an empire of makeup and fashion companies—she could not escape death.
As she prepared her will, she wrote that all her properties, all her wealth, would belong to Alexander. "He is my son," she whispered, her hand brushing his soft cheek. "Everything I own… is yours."
When the inevitable day came, Alexander watched her chest rise and fall one final time. She was gone. The world had already begun testing him.
His father, overwhelmed by grief, would later marry again. Andrea, a cruel and ambitious woman, entered the household. From the beginning, she treated Alexander like an unwanted shadow, despising his weakness, ignoring his existence.
But the boy… Alexander Daniel, the scarlet child, was not as fragile as he seemed. Even as he grew, sickly and small, there was a quiet strength in him, hidden beneath the surface. And one day, the world would see it.
For now, all that remained was his scarlet destiny, waiting silently, patiently… for the right moment to awaken.