Chapter 1: The Artifact

Elian collapsed onto the plush sofa, his crisp dress shirt rumpled and his dark hair a disheveled mess. Every muscle in his upper body protested as he stretched, a sharp crack echoing through the quiet living room.

"Dammit... I’m exhausted," he muttered under his breath.

Reaching for the remote on the coffee table, he clicked the power button. The digital TV hummed to life, flashing a bold breaking-news ticker across the bottom of the screen: BOMB ATTACK ON GOVERNMENT PYRAMID.

Elian’s eyes narrowed, fixing on the anchor.

"Good evening, viewers. We bring you a critical update regarding the attack on the National Pyramid structure by an unidentified extremist group. The assault has caused severe structural damage to the government-built monument. Investigators suspect the group’s motive was to seize the ancient artifact secured deep within the facility."

The news anchor continued, tone grave. "A brutal firefight erupted between the attackers and security forces, consisting of joint military and police personnel stationed at the site. Fortunately, the ancient artifact remains secured in government hands. However, casualties are heavy, with twenty officers and soldiers confirmed dead."

Elian let out a long breath, his expression flat.

"Unbelievable. Dropping bodies over some obscure ancient trinket?" A faint, bitter laugh escaped his lips. "Fighting to the death for a piece of old rock... Are these people out of their minds?"

To Elian, the concept of ancient artifacts carrying mysterious significance was pure fairy-tale drivel. The public loved to gossip about the government’s vault inside the Pyramid, whispering rumors of a mysterious purple crystal endowed with magical properties. But as a young, highly educated architect, Elian relied strictly on rational science. Magic was fiction—something reserved for the fantasy novels and anime he skimmed through during rare moments of downtime.

Besides, the Pyramid wasn’t even an ancient wonder; the government built it themselves a few years back. The entire setup was a glorified tourist stunt, and whatever was kept inside was undoubtedly just another piece of common mineral dressed up for political show.

He shook his head with a faint smile, clicking the TV off. The living room plunged into darkness.

Turning toward the hallway, he made a beeline for the bedroom, eager to sleep off the grueling workday. But just as his hand reached for the doorknob, a harsh vibration buzzed against his thigh.

Elian paused right at the threshold, scowling. "Who calls at this hour?"

He dug his phone out of his pocket. An unregistered number flashed on the screen.

For a freelance elite architect, unknown callers were routine—usually clients desperate for a consultation. He swiped the green icon and brought the phone to his ear.

"Is this Mr. Elian Alcaric?"

"Yes," Elian replied, his voice dry and clipped.

"This is Nakamo from the Ministry of Cultural Infrastructure. We require your expertise to oversee the structural restoration of the damaged Pyramid. "Would you be available to take the contract?""

Elian’s eyebrows twitched. "Hold on."

He jogged back to the living room, grabbing his tablet from the table. A quick search brought up the initial structural assessment reports and leaked site photos from the bombing.

As the high-resolution images loaded, Elian winced. Massive structural cracks spanned the main load-bearing pillars, reinforced concrete was sheared off like cheap drywall, and entire support arches were compromised.

"I have to pass," Elian said flatly into the receiver. "The blast damage is far too severe. It’s an engineering nightmare."

"Mr. Alcaric, please," the official’s voice took on a desperate edge. "Your name came directly from top-tier recommendations. Your track record with complex structural restoration and massive public works is unmatched. We desperately need your oversight on this."

Elian sank into the sofa, leaning his head back against the cushions. "The damage is catastrophic. The raw foundation blocks alone weigh over a ton each, and from what I’m seeing, stabilizing the main shell before rebuilding will take years." He kept his eyes on the tablet screen. "I also have three major private projects running simultaneously. My schedule is packed."

"If you accept this government contract, Mr. Alcaric, we are prepared to grant immediate, unrestricted funding—along with a personal retainer fee."

Elian raised an eyebrow. "How much?"

"A starting consultation fee of five billion dollars. Paid upfront. Plus a substantial bonus upon project completion."

Elian’s eyes widened slightly. Five billion. That wasn’t just generous—it was a figure that completely justified postponing his other contracts and delegating minor client work to his junior team.

"Fine," Elian said, his composure slipping back into place. "I accept. With a budget like that, I can hardly say no."

"Thank you, Mr. Alcaric! It is an honor to work with you," the official exhaled in visible relief.

Elian hung up, tossing the phone onto the cushion beside him.

By noon the next day, Elian arrived at the heavily guarded perimeter in his black sedan, dressed in a sharp three-piece suit.

The site was swarming with military transport trucks, armored vehicles, and barricades manned by heavily armed soldiers. Elian pulled up to the main checkpoint, presenting his digital government credentials through the window. The perimeter commander scanned the clearance code, verified his identity, and assigned two armed escorts to accompany him inside.

Walking toward the base of the massive structure, Elian scanned the exterior with an expert eye. The bombing had sheared away a major section of the outer facade, causing a five-degree tilt along the northern axis. He noted load distribution points, stress fractures running up the stone composite, and the immediate danger of localized collapse.

"The structural integrity is holding by a thread," Elian muttered, making rapid mental calculations. "We need temporary steel shoring along the eastern support beams before any heavy machinery moves in."

After completing his preliminary survey of the exterior, Elian gestured toward the main access tunnel. "I need to inspect the interior passageways to map out safe transport routes for the construction team."

The guards hesitated, but his official clearance allowed no refusal. They stood watch at the threshold as Elian stepped into the dimly lit central corridor.

The air inside was cool, smelling heavily of crushed limestone, ozone, and burnt wiring. Elian walked slowly, tapping the walls to test concrete density and checking for hidden micro-fissures along the arched ceiling.

Then, a sudden flicker of light caught his eye.

In a recessed alcove at the far end of the corridor sat a heavy bronze-bound chest. Deep purple light leaked out from the seams, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.

Elian stopped. He blinked, expecting the illusion to fade. But a second later, the heavy wooden chest vibrated sharply against the stone floor, casting sharp, unnatural violet shadows across the corridor walls.

His brow furrowed. A mechanical fault? Some leftover wiring from the blast?

Driven by a mix of confusion and pure logical skepticism, Elian stepped closer. Magic wasn’t real. There had to be a technical explanation—a battery leak, a broken LED display, or an unstable chemical reaction left behind by the attackers.

He reached the chest, his eyes fixing on the lid. The trembling intensified.

Determined to prove his hallucination wrong, Elian grabbed the brass latch and flipped the chest open.

The air went still.

Sitting inside the velvet lining was a raw, jagged crystal. It glowed with a deep, mesmerizing purple light, shimmering with an intensity that defied natural physics. Elian stared at it, completely speechlessly spellbound. Up close, the sheer brilliance of the stone was breathtaking—unlike any gemstone or mineral he had ever studied.

"What in the world...?"

Before the thought could fully form, the crystal flashed with blinding, absolute luminescence.

A wave of unfathomable light violently engulfed his vision.

Elian tried to pull back, but the moment his right hand brushed the air above the crystal, an invisible, magnetic force slammed his palm flat against the stone’s surface.

"AARGH!"

An agonized scream tore from his throat. The pain was immediate, absolute, and utterly barbaric—like his flesh was being stripped away strand by strand, skin peeled back from bone while still alive. He thrashed violently, attempting to wrench his arm away, but his body was utterly locked in place.

Nobody heard his screams inside the subterranean hall.

The purple crystal pulsed furiously, generating an unimaginable gravitational pressure that folded the space around him. Elian watched in horror as his own hand began to dissolve into shimmering, microscopic particles of light. The disintegration spread instantly up his arm, consuming his torso, his chest, his legs.

His entire physical body was being shredded into millions of glowing speckles, sucked violently into the core of the glowing crystal. The sheer agony surpassed human comprehension, tearing his consciousness apart piece by piece.

Within seconds, the scream died out. The light vanished.

Elian Alcaric was gone.

The purple stone settled back into the bottom of the open chest, dropping flat onto the cold stone floor with a soft, hollow clink.

[End of Chapter 1]