Atlas Millionis had always felt as if the world was speaking to him in a language only he could hear. Not loudly—more like a whisper drifting just behind everyday sounds. Most people walked through Eryndale without noticing anything unusual, but Atlas noticed everything. The streetlights that always flickered three times before stabilizing. The old town clock that chimed off-beat whenever something important was about to happen. Even the birds seemed to circle differently around him, tracing invisible patterns in the sky.

But none of those strange moments compared to what happened that morning.

It began like any other day. Mist drifted above the streets, soft and quiet, as if the whole city was waking up slowly. Students hurried toward the school gates, talking half-awake and trying to finish assignments they should’ve done the night before. Atlas walked alone at his usual pace, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, his fingers brushing against the pendant on his chest.

It felt warm today—warmer than ever. Almost…alive.

He frowned and held it for a moment, but before he could think about it, the world shifted.

The wind paused mid-gust.

The hum of voices around him faded into stillness.

Even the school bell, halfway through a ring, froze on a sharp metallic note.

Atlas blinked. The silence was deep, a kind that pressed against his ears.

Then he saw it.

Above the clouds, a glowing mark flared to life. A circle with a single line striking through it—perfectly matching the symbol engraved into his pendant. It pulsed once, lighting up the entire sky with a soft red hue, then again, brighter this time.

Atlas glanced around, expecting gasps or pointing fingers. But everyone kept walking, talking, laughing—completely unaware. It was as if the sky was speaking to Atlas and Atlas alone.

The symbol flickered, stretched into a thin beam, and then vanished, leaving only the ordinary gray clouds behind.

The world snapped back into motion.

“Atlas! Yo—Atlas! Are you coming or what?” a familiar voice called.

Sera Lune jogged toward him, waving her hand impatiently. Her backpack bounced with every step. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Atlas didn’t answer. His heart was still pounding, and the pendant that had moments ago felt warm was now ice-cold against his skin.

Then, faint and soft—almost like a breath inside his thoughts—a whisper echoed:

“Find the Core.”

He swallowed.

What Core?

And why him?

Whatever the answer was, he felt the world shift again.

Today wasn’t going to be normal.

Not anymore.