The rain never fell on Elian.
No matter how dark the clouds were, it always stopped a few steps away from him, as if the sky itself refused to touch his body.
People in Valmere noticed it long ago.
At first, they laughed.
Later, they whispered.
Wherever Elian walked, small disasters followed.
A cart wheel snapping in half.
A merchant's stall collapsing without warning.
A ladder breaking just as he climbed it.
At first, Elian laughed with them.
Later, he stopped.
By the time he turned sixteen, he understood one simple truth.
The world didn't want him to succeed.
Valmere was a poor city at the edge of the kingdom, surrounded by rocky hills and dying farmlands. Most people survived by mining meteor fragments that had fallen decades ago.
Those fragments were valuable.
But dangerous.
Elian worked in one of the oldest abandoned tunnels.
The pay was low.
The risk was high.
Yet it was the only job no one fought over.
Every morning, before heading to the mine, Elian would stop by the small wooden house he shared with his mother.
She lay on a thin bed, her face pale, breathing shallow.
"Be careful today," she whispered weakly.
Elian forced a smile.
"I always am."
But danger always found him.
He gently adjusted the blanket around her and left.
The streets of Valmere were already crowded.
Merchants shouted.
Children ran barefoot.
Guards lazily patrolled the main road.
Yet whenever Elian passed by, people subtly moved aside.
No one wanted to stand too close to him.
Bad luck was contagious.
Elian kept his head down and walked faster.
Soon, the city faded behind him.
The abandoned meteor mine loomed ahead like a dark mouth swallowing light.
Inside, the air was damp and cold.
The walls glimmered faintly with black crystals embedded in stone.
Elian pushed a rusted cart along the narrow tracks.
The screeching sound echoed endlessly.
Sweat dripped down his face.
His arms burned.
This work would break most people within weeks.
But Elian had endured it for months.
Suddenly—
Pain shot through his palm.
The jagged edge of the cart sliced his skin.
Blood flowed freely.
He stared at the wound in silence.
"Of course," he muttered.
Even pain had become routine.
He wrapped his hand with a dirty cloth and continued pushing.
In the distance, other workers mined quietly.
No one spoke to him.
They kept their distance.
"Bad luck follows that boy."
"Stay away from him."
Elian pretended not to hear.
He always did.
The tunnel shook without warning.
Dust rained from the ceiling.
Small stones bounced along the ground.
"Another collapse!" someone shouted nervously.
Fear flashed across the workers' faces.
Collapses weren't rare.
People died in them every year.
Before Elian could step back, a massive black crystal embedded deep in the wall cracked open.
A blinding dark light burst forth.
The ground split violently.
The ceiling crumbled.
A wave of force slammed into Elian's chest.
His body flew backward like a rag doll.
Pain exploded through every bone.
Then—
Darkness swallowed everything.
A soft glow pierced the void.
Elian slowly opened his eyes.
He wasn't in the tunnel anymore.
Or rather—
The tunnel was there, but frozen.
Workers were mid-step.
Dust hung motionless in the air.
And everywhere he looked—
Threads.
Countless glowing threads stretched endlessly in every direction, crossing and intertwining like a massive cosmic web.
They connected everything.
The walls.
The rocks.
The people.
Even the air itself.
Elian's breath caught.
"What… is this?"
He looked down at his chest.
A single glowing thread extended from his heart.
Unlike the others, his was thin, dim, and filled with countless cracks.
It trembled violently.
As if it could snap at any moment.
A deep, echoing voice resonated through the silent world.
"Broken fate detected."
"Anomaly condition met."
"Thread Vision activated."
Elian spun around.
"Who's there?!"
No one answered.
Only endless glowing threads.
His heart pounded wildly.
Slowly, he raised his trembling hand.
Every instinct screamed at him to stop.
Yet something deeper urged him forward.
His fingers touched the cracked thread.
Instantly—
A freezing surge rushed through his body.
The pain in his chest dulled.
The thread brightened slightly.
Not healed.
But stabilized.
Elian gasped.
"It… changed."
Around him, other threads pulsed softly.
Some glowed smooth and bright.
Others were tangled in thick black knots.
He noticed a worker nearby whose threads were twisted violently, filled with dark marks.
The sight made his chest tighten.
A strange instinct whispered inside him.
Fix it.
Without understanding why, Elian reached out.
His fingers brushed the tangled thread.
The black knot loosened.
The glow smoothed.
The frozen world shattered.
Time rushed back.
The worker collapsed forward, coughing violently.
"I can breathe! I can breathe again!"
Shouts erupted.
"Elian's alive!"
"The collapse stopped!"
Elian dropped to his knees.
His breathing was heavy.
The glowing world faded.
Everything returned to normal.
But his heart still raced.
That wasn't a dream.
A burning sensation spread along his arms.
He rolled up his sleeves.
Thin dark lines, like faint shadows of threads, appeared beneath his skin.
Fear mixed with confusion.
"What happened to me…?"
Before he could think further—
A deep rumble shook the earth.
Elian stumbled outside with the others.
The sky above Valmere had changed.
A thin crack stretched across the blue heavens.
Like broken glass about to shatter.
Black mist poured out slowly.
From within the mist—
Two glowing red eyes opened.
A monstrous silhouette descended, its form shifting unnaturally.
People screamed.
Some fell to their knees.
Elian's blood ran cold.
Then the voice returned, colder than ice.
"Unauthorized destiny alteration detected."
"Correction protocol initiated."
High above the city, glowing threads gathered together.
They formed a tall humanoid figure of light.
Its body was woven entirely from shining fate strands.
Its hollow eyes locked onto Elian.
A Fate Guardian.
"Anomaly located."
"Termination required."
Elian's legs shook violently.
His breath came in short gasps.
Fear threatened to consume him.
Yet—
The glowing threads slowly returned to his vision.
Calm washed over him.
Not fear… but resolve.
He clenched his fists tightly.
If fate wanted him dead—
Then he would tear it apart first.