The aroma of the roasted beast was divine, a scent so rich it seemed to promise life itself. As Ram feasted, the shadows of the jungle stirred. Dozens of smaller predators, drawn by the heavenly smell, gathered at the edge of the clearing, their eyes glinting with hunger.
Yet, none dared to cross the threshold
Ram's wings remained unfurled, acting as a silent sentinel. The golden flames didn't rage; they circled him and his meal in a slow, rhythmic orbit, creating a barrier of celestial heat. To the beasts of the island, that golden light was a warning written in the language of power: Touch this, and you burn.
Unbothered, Ram continued to tear into the meat. Suddenly, a new sound cut through the crackle of the flames. It came from above.
Ram looked up, a large chunk of meat still gripped in his hand. High above the canopy, a bird was circling. It was a raven of unnatural beauty, its feathers a midnight black that seemed to drink the light, and its eyes—two piercing sapphires—shined with a deep, human-like intelligence.
The bird didn't caw. It made a series of complex, melodic sounds that felt less like an animal's cry and more like a spoken language. It was trying to talk to him.
Ram tilted his head, his golden eyes meeting the bird's sapphire ones. He didn't understand. To him, the sounds were just more noise in this strange, new world. Seeing no comprehension in the boy, the raven tucked its wings and dove.
Usually, Ram's black wings would have snapped into a defensive posture, but this time, they remained still. The primal instinct within them sensed no malice, no thirst for blood. The raven pulled up at the last second, landing gracefully atop the massive, charred ribcage of the beast.
The boy and the bird stared at each other. Curiosity was written across Ram's porcelain face. The raven tried again, clicking and whistling in a rhythmic pattern, but Ram simply blinked and took another massive bite of meat.
A silent comedy followed. The bird tilted its head to the left; Ram tilted his head to the left. The bird hopped to the right; Ram followed with his eyes, his jaw working steadily as he chewed.
Finally, the raven seemed to give up with a frustrated click. It took flight, circling Ram once before landing directly on one of his massive black wings. It should have been scorched to ash, but the golden flames seemed to recognize a friend. The fire softened, turning into a gentle, harmless glow that provided nothing but warmth.
Ram didn't mind the passenger. He ate until his belly was tight, finally leaving behind a mountain of bones. He let out a thunderous burp that echoed through the trees and patted his stomach with a look of pure, primal satisfaction.
But the price of a full stomach was a heavy one. The adrenaline of the birth and the hunt faded, replaced by a crushing drowsiness. Ram fought the sleep for a few seconds, his golden
eyelids drooping, but the battle was lost.
He slumped against the warm, charred remains of his meal, his head resting on the beast's flank. The black wings folded over him like a heavy velvet blanket, and with the blue-eyed raven still perched atop him like a guardian, the Anomaly fell into a deep, peaceful slumber in the heart of the wild.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the vibrant greens of the primeval island faded into shadows of charcoal and indigo. The stars began to emerge, piercing the velvet sky like diamonds scattered across a dark floor—reminding the silent world of the vastness that lay beyond.
The scene shifts, crossing leagues of churning ocean to a place where the wild chaos of nature is replaced by the cold, calculated perfection of human ingenuity.
Deep in the Pacific Ocean lies U.A. Island.
From a distance, it does not look like land at all, but a titan of steel and stone rising from the depths. It is a fortress-island, encased in a series of unbreakable, impenetrable walls that seem to scrape the heavens. To enter U.A. is to attempt to enter a sovereign nation; the security procedures are legendary, involving layers of biometric scans, quirk-detection fields, and maritime patrols that never sleep.
Inside these walls lies the U.A. Academy, a sanctuary for the elite, dedicated to nurturing the future guardians of the world. In this society, education is the ultimate currency, and schools are ranked with a ruthless hierarchy that determines the fate of nations.
The world's educational landscape is a pyramid of prestige:
Thousands of Ordinary Schools form the base.
100 Iron-Titled Schools provide the backbone of the workforce.
50 Gold-Titled Schools produce the officers and managers.
20 Diamond-Titled Schools breed the world's most famous influencers and specialists.
15 Pink Diamond and 10 Red Diamond schools house the true elite.
And then, standing at the very pinnacle, are the Top 5 Blue Diamond Schools.
U.A. Academy is one of these five—a crown jewel of the Blue Diamond rank. It is a place where "Quirks" are refined into weapons of justice and "Devil Fruit" users are studied with a mixture of awe and caution. It is a place of history, greatness, and power, where the strongest children from across the globe are sent to become the legends of tomorrow.
Each of these five schools holds a piece of the world's balance in its hands. But while the students of U.A. sleep in their high-tech dormitories, dreaming of rankings and fame, a porcelain-white boy sleeps on a pile of bones on a forgotten island, guarded by a sapphire-eyed raven and a power that could affect the very balanced of this world..
The morning arrived with a quiet triumph, the darkness retreating like a thief afraid of being caught by the light. The shadows scurried into the deep crevices of the jungle, making way for the sun's ascent.
Ram remained lost in a heavy, soundless slumber. The blue-eyed raven, tucked safely within the curve of the boy's massive black wings, stirred first. It opened its sapphire eyes, blinking against the sudden brilliance of the day.
As the sun climbed higher, it seemed to single out the boy. The light didn't just touch him; it embraced him like a mother giving a warm, lingering hug. Against the dark, scorched earth and the pile of bones, Ram's hair began to shimmer. It wasn't merely a shade of blonde; it was the color of the sun's very core—a radiant, liquid gold that seemed to glow from within.
It was as if the sun itself was leaning down to whisper "hello" to the soul it had missed for so long.
On this wild, forgotten island, the "Anomaly" lay bathed in light, a porcelain statue of peace surrounded by prehistoric danger. The raven watched the kid, its intelligent blue eyes reflecting the golden aura that now clung to Ram's skin. The forest began to wake, the air filling with the songs of birds and the distant roars of beasts, but in this small clearing, the warmth of the sun held everything in a sacred, golden silence.
The beggar who died in the cold was now a child made of light, and the world was finally starting to realize he was there.
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To be continued