Nightfall came too soon that day.

There was no warning, no omen—just a quiet shift in the air. The kind of stillness that unsettles the soul. The wind didn’t howl. The waves didn’t crash. The stars had yet to appear. It was that strange in-between, where time seemed to pause… just long enough for the worst to arrive.

Then, the sky split.

BOOM!

A distant explosion tore through the harbor, rattling windows and shaking the ground. Somewhere within a small, quiet home near the docks, a child stirred in his bed.

“Tyron.”

The voice was soft but firm, trembling with urgency. Tyron Taiōji, no older than six, blinked himself awake. His mother stood over him—her usual warmth replaced with pale worry. Behind her, his father stood by the door, tense and silent, like a blade waiting to strike.

Tyron rubbed his eyes. “Mama? What’s going on?”

His mother looked back at her husband. He gave a small nod, urging her forward.

She crouched down beside Tyron, helping him out of bed. “Something bad is happening outside, sweetie,” she whispered, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “But don’t worry. Mommy and Daddy will protect you.”

Tyron didn’t understand—but he didn’t resist. He trusted them. He always had.

As his mother pulled his coat on and handed him his favorite plushies—stitched, worn dolls resembling her and his father—his father peered out the hallway window. Flames glowed in the distance, flickering like devils dancing in the dark.

“Out the back,” his father said. “We move now.”

Tyron’s mother took his hand and led him quietly through the back of the house. But outside… outside was hell.

Screams filled the streets. Homes burned like torches. Shadows darted through the alleys—men with blades and guns, faces hidden under masks and soaked in blood. Pirates. Dozens of them, raiding the coastal town with ruthless precision. The docks had made them vulnerable. Now the town paid the price.

“We stay low,” Tyron’s mother whispered, clutching him close beneath her cloak.

But luck had already left them.

A pirate spotted them—a wild-eyed marauder with blood dripping from his blade. He charged, grinning.

Tyron’s father moved like lightning.

Before the pirate could blink, a hand gripped his face—and fire bloomed from the man’s palm. The raider didn’t even scream. He dropped to the ground, skull blackened, eyes melted.

Tyron flinched. His mother pulled him close, covering his eyes with one hand and whispering soft nothings to keep his panic at bay.

But more were coming. Dozens. And there was no more time to sneak.

“Avira!” Orion barked. “Y’all need to get far away from here. I will hold them back.”

“But—!”

“Don’t argue with me,” he said, glancing back with a half-grin. “I promise I’ll be right behind you. Now go.”

He gave her a thumbs-up, turning back to face the wave of armed invaders marching through the inferno.

With tears brimming in her eyes, Avira clutched Tyron tighter and began to run.

Tyron squirmed in her grasp, turning his head—just in time to see his father glance back one last time. There was a smile on his face. Calm. Proud. Certain.

Then, he lunged forward.

With a roar that echoed through the flames, Orion Taiōji charged headfirst into the enemy, his fists ablaze, his Ark ignited to its fullest.

Tyron’s breath caught. The flames danced in his reflection.

His young, crimson eyes slowly shifted—becoming golden.

Something ancient stirred within him.

BOOM.

An eruption of light. Fire surged into the sky. A massive explosion swallowed the harbor, drowning screams in flame. The very air was torn apart. Buildings shattered. The ocean boiled. Then…

Silence.

The dust began to settle. Smoke curled into the air like ghosts. Bodies lay motionless across cracked stone and scorched wood.

And in the heart of the ruin, amidst death and devastation, stood a lone child.

He didn’t cry. Not anymore.

Golden eyes glowed through his tears, and though his cheeks were soaked, his face showed no sadness.

Only rage.

“…Mommy?”

He turned slowly. His mother lay nearby, half her body burned, unconscious but still breathing. He stumbled toward her, collapsed by her side… and passed out.

Two bodies, one heartbeat. Alone in the ashes.

A child born from love… forged by violence.

This world is in need of order.

The Coming age…

Dawn—The Age of Order.