The capital of Solum had never slept like this before.
Lanterns of mana crystal lined every street, casting a soft silver glow across black stone roads engraved with the sigil of Blackthorne—two crossed swords beneath a crown. Noble carriages filled the avenues, banners fluttered from towers, and the air itself felt tense, as if the world was holding its breath.
Tomorrow was the Age Ceremony of Aurelian von Blackthorne.
And everyone knew—it would not be ordinary.
---
Inside the Blackthorne estate, silence reigned.
Not the peaceful kind.
The heavy kind.
Aurelian stood alone in his room, gazing out through the tall window overlooking the capital. From this height, Solum looked like a sea of lights, beautiful and distant.
'So many eyes… all waiting to see what I'll become.'
He clenched his fingers slowly, then released them.
At nine years old, his body was already lean and refined, muscles formed through relentless discipline. His breathing was steady, controlled. His mana flowed calmly within his three magic circles, rotating smoothly around his heart.
Yet tonight, something was different.
The mana around him felt… restless.
'The world feels louder tonight.'
Aurelian closed his eyes and sat on the edge of his bed, lowering his head slightly.
Memories surfaced unbidden.
The bandits.
The blood.
The weight of life leaving a body beneath his blade.
'Tomorrow, they won't just measure my potential…'
'They'll decide how dangerous I am.'
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Aurelian."
His mother's voice.
"Come in."
The door opened quietly.
Aria von Blackthorne stepped inside, dressed not as a duchess, but as a mother. Her silver hair was loosely tied, her blue eyes gentle but sharp as ever. In her arms, wrapped in soft white cloth, slept a small child.
Alya.
Aurelian stood immediately. "Mother."
She smiled faintly. "You don't need to stand every time."
She walked closer, stopping beside him. Alya shifted slightly in her sleep but did not wake.
"She refuses to sleep unless I walk her around," Aria said softly. "But the moment she hears your presence, she calms down."
Aurelian reached out hesitantly, brushing a finger against Alya's tiny hand.
She tightened her grip instinctively.
Aurelian felt something tighten in his chest.
'So small… so fragile.'
Aria watched his expression closely.
"You're nervous," she said gently.
Aurelian did not deny it. "A little."
She sat beside him. "That's normal."
He hesitated, then spoke. "Mother… what was your Age Ceremony like?"
Aria smiled, eyes distant. "Crowded. Noisy. Everyone expected greatness because I was born into talent."
She glanced at him. "But I was terrified."
Aurelian looked at her in surprise.
"I thought… you were confident."
"I pretended," she admitted. "Confidence is something you learn to wear."
She placed a hand over his. "But you, Aurelian… you're different."
He met her gaze.
"Your mana is stable. Your mind is calm. Yet the world reacts to you."
She exhaled slowly. "That worries me."
Aurelian lowered his eyes.
'Even mother feels it.'
"Will something bad happen tomorrow?" he asked quietly.
Aria hesitated.
Then she answered honestly.
"I don't know."
She smiled softly again. "But whatever happens, remember this."
She leaned closer.
"You are not alone."
Before he could respond, the door opened again.
Heavy footsteps.
Aurelian did not turn.
He already knew.
Alaric von Blackthorne stood at the doorway, tall and imposing even without armor. His black hair was tied neatly behind his head, his eyes sharp and unreadable as ever.
"Aria," he said calmly.
She nodded. "I was just about to leave."
She stood, gently placing Alya into a cradle beside the bed.
Before leaving, she kissed Aurelian's forehead.
"Sleep early."
After she left, silence returned.
Alaric stepped forward and closed the door himself.
He stood across from Aurelian, arms crossed.
They remained like that for several seconds.
Finally, Alaric spoke.
"Sit."
Aurelian obeyed.
Alaric took the chair opposite him, posture straight, presence overwhelming.
"Tomorrow," Alaric said, "your life will change."
Aurelian nodded. "I know."
Alaric's gaze sharpened. "Do you fear it?"
Aurelian thought for a moment.
Then answered truthfully.
"No."
Alaric raised an eyebrow slightly.
"I fear… disappointing you."
The words hung in the air.
Alaric did not react immediately.
Then he spoke.
"Stand."
Aurelian stood.
In one swift motion, Alaric stepped forward and placed a hand on his son's shoulder.
The grip was firm.
Heavy.
"You have already surpassed my expectations," Alaric said.
Aurelian froze.
Alaric continued, voice low. "Strength is not measured by talent alone. It is measured by will."
He tightened his grip slightly. "You killed when ordered. You endured pain without complaint. You continue training when others rest."
His eyes locked onto Aurelian's.
"That is strength."
Aurelian swallowed.
'Father…'
"But understand this," Alaric continued. "From tomorrow onward, people will not look at you as a child."
"They will look at you as a threat."
Aurelian nodded. "I understand."
"Good."
Alaric released him and stepped back.
"If the ceremony reveals greatness, they will envy you."
"If it reveals monstrosity, they will fear you."
"And if it reveals threat to them…"
He paused.
"They will try to destroy you."
Aurelian's fists clenched unconsciously.
"What should I do then?" he asked.
Alaric's answer was immediate.
"Survive."
He turned to leave, then stopped.
Without turning back, he added:
"No matter what awakens tomorrow… remember this."
"You are a Blackthorne."
The door closed.
Aurelian remained standing long after.
'They're both afraid.'
'Not of me… but for me.'
He returned to his bed and sat down slowly.
The night deepened.
Outside, Solum roared with celebration.
Inside, Aurelian closed his eyes and began meditating.
Mana gathered around him, drawn toward his heart.
Not violently.
Not eagerly.
As if waiting.
'Tomorrow… everything begins.'
Far above the world of Noctyrr—
Something ancient stirred.
Not a god.
Not a demon.
A system without emotion observed the convergence of fate.
[Event Approaching: Age Ceremony]
[Host Probability: Anomaly Confirmed]
[Omnicalamity Core: Awakening Threshold Near]
The world slept.
The calamity did not.