Chapter 1: The Crimson Sky
That night, the sky looked strange. It had turned a deep crimson, as if someone had painted it with blood. The villagers had already shut their doors in fear.
Only one boy stood outside.
Arin.
Sixteen years old, thin, but with an unusual calmness in his eyes. The wind howled around him. Suddenly, the old mark on his hand began to burn.
"Ahh!" Arin bent down in pain.
The symbol carved into his skin glowed like living fire. This wasn't the first time… but tonight felt different.
The ground trembled beneath his feet.
From the distant mountains came a thunderous roar. The village elders used to say that when the red moon rises and the sky turns crimson, the "Protector" returns.
Arin had never believed them.
Suddenly, the air in front of him began to swirl. Dust and leaves spiraled into a small vortex… and from within it emerged a dark shadow.
"You have finally awakened…" The voice was deep and cold.
Arin swallowed his fear. "Who are you?"
The shadow let out a low laugh. "I am the one your bloodline has been running from. You are the last heir of the Agnivansh."
Arin's heart pounded. "That's a lie… I'm just an ordinary boy."
"As long as you deny the truth, your power will consume you."
Without warning, a wave of fire burst from Arin's hand and spread across the ground. But strangely… nothing burned.
The flames only shimmered.
The shadow spoke softly, "Fire is not your enemy… it is your identity."
Then everything went silent.
The crimson sky slowly faded back to darkness… and the shadow vanished.
Arin stood alone.
But he was no longer the same.
He could feel it.
Something had awakened.
And perhaps… his life would never be the same again.