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Echoes of the Golden Demon.

作者: GoGo
幻想
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概要

When Shirley awakened her talent, she saw a grim future: the end of the world. The only hope to stop it? Dan—a fragile young man with the mind of a child. Determined to rewrite destiny, Shirley guides Dan on the path of a hero in a shattered world plagued by dimensional fractures and civilizations ruled by gods. But beneath Dan’s innocent exterior lies a darkness no one, not even Shirley, could foresee. As his power grows, so does the fear he inspires. This isn’t just a hero’s journey—it’s the rise of a demon destined to change the world forever.

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Chapter 11.01.1 The boy named Dan.

"I need to hurry." The words escaped the lips of a young man with dark, untamed hair and brown skin. His face was unremarkable, almost painfully so—ordinary to the point of invisibility in a crowd. His dull, unfocused eyes betrayed a lack of sharpness, an emptiness that hinted at something broken. He was short for his nineteen years, his slight frame and timid demeanor lending him the appearance of a boy too young and fragile for the world he was about to face.

The world had other plans for him, however. He was heading to the Mass Awakening Ceremony, a ritual that was meant to unlock extraordinary potential in ordinary humans. But for that, we need to go back—to seventy years ago.

It started when Towers rose, piercing the skies above densely populated areas, and fractures in reality bled across the earth like open wounds. These tears linked humanity's world to countless others, forging a chaotic bridge to alien realms. At first, these intrusions were manageable. Then came the stronger ones—the mutated ones—beings with powers so far beyond human comprehension that survival became desperation.

Mutations followed, but not just for the invaders. Some among humanity began to change, developing powers of their own. They were humanity's first defenders, and they began to claw back what had been lost. The war dragged on for decades, a war that consumed lives and nations. While most of the world remained scarred but standing, Australia had been swallowed whole by the enemy.

It might have ended there, with a fractured earth and humanity rebuilding. But it didn't.

The Towers opened their gates, revealing something far worse: the Maker's Domain. A crucible that demanded the strongest of every plane battle their way to the top. A chance for godhood, or annihilation. And the Maker? Silent. Unyielding. The invasions wouldn't stop until someone claimed the throne at the Tower's apex.

Humanity, bleeding and desperate, scrambled to adapt. The Awakening Ceremony was created to give anyone—even the weakest—a chance. It wasn't altruism. It was desperation. The search for saviors had no room for bias. Even those like the boy currently running to the ceremony, so unremarkable it hurt to look at him, were allowed to try.

But unknown to the boy, he was being watched. Not far behind, a woman followed his every step, her gaze sharp and calculating. She was dressed elegantly, surrounded by servants who hung back like shadows, their eyes betraying unease.

"Mistress, for you to come here personally..." one of the maids ventured, her voice low and cautious.

The woman waved her off with a sharp flick of her wrist. "Say nothing foolish," she snapped. Her tone carried the weight of someone unaccustomed to dissent.

The maid hesitated, then pressed on. "If word spreads that you've come for a commoner boy—"

"Enough," the woman interrupted, her voice cold. "What others think is of no consequence."

The maid swallowed her retort and lowered her eyes. In truth, her mistress had changed since her own awakening. The talent she had gained was extraordinary, a power that set her apart even among the elite. Yet it seemed to come with a price—fits of paranoia, moments of silence where she seemed utterly lost.

Recently, her mistress had issued strange orders: find a boy matching a vague description. When the boy was found, the maids had been baffled. He was no one—a dim-witted orphan who could barely hold down menial work.

The boy had suffered a brain injury as a child, leaving him slow and clumsy. At the orphanage, the other children had stolen his food and mocked his stupidity. Starvation stunted his growth, leaving him frail and underdeveloped.

A pathetic story, but not an uncommon one. The world had no room for pity. Resources were scarce, and those who couldn't contribute were left to rot.

The woman's lips pressed into a thin line. "The ignorant will think what they want. I don't care."

The maid bowed. "My apologies, Mistress."

The woman's gaze returned to the boy. He was oblivious to her scrutiny, muttering something under his breath as he ran. His movements were awkward, his limbs uncoordinated. He looked lost in thought—or in a mantra.

She had seen his face before. Not in this life, but in her visions. Titled the Perceiver of the Akasha, her talent allowed her to see the future in harrowing detail and send fragments of that knowledge back to her past self. The vision she had received was one of devastation—humanity's fall, the earth's conquest by alien races. And at the end of it all, an anomaly.

That anomaly was the boy in front of her.

The future showed him as something monstrous, his psionic power vast enough to rival gods. But his body, frail and flawed, had failed him. He had collapsed under the weight of his own abilities, his body shattering into pieces of his own might before his enemies could.

She clenched her fists. That future wouldn't come to pass.

"If he awakens, no matter his rating, bring him to the best doctor. Find what's wrong with him," she ordered, her voice a sharp blade.

The maid hesitated but relented. "As you wish, Mistress."

The woman turned away, her expression unreadable. Her mind was already far ahead, planning. The future wasn't constant, but her involvement could tip the scales. For better—or worse.

There were no words to describe the foolish mistake her mistress was making, but what could she do? Her mistress was the eye candy of her daily life, the only girl among five siblings. Her older brothers and father adored her, showering her with love constantly.

Perhaps that constant adoration contributed to her insolent nature.

On the other hand, the boy—so full of unyielding vigor—walked toward the school grounds on his two legs, slow and steady. It wasn't as though he could rush, not with the injury to his brain. The impaired synchronicity of his limbs made him clumsy, and hasty movements often resulted in falls—or worse.

That's why the boy, though unaided by a stick or support, walked deliberately. "If I am there, life will be better. I will be there, then life will be better. I will go there, and life will be wonderful." He kept repeating variations of the same phrase, his hopeful mantra revealing the weight he placed on this ceremony.

"Food will be enough, life will be better..." His words were a window into the pain he had endured, the deep scars left on his heart and mind. His simplicity was often exploited, and kindness was a rare luxury. The world's cruelty would have broken the spirit of any sane person. But the boy's limited intelligence spared him even the luxury of going insane.

He seemed like a foolish four-year-old trapped in a man's body, left to fend for himself in a world that had no love for him.

Still, he sought that love—a love he had never known in his short, difficult life.

Before long, he reached the school grounds.

"Hey, isn't that the fool? Even he was allowed here?"

"The special ed kid... won't it be dangerous if someone like him awakens an ability?"

The murmurs carried through the crowd, laced with fear and disdain. Their concerns weren't unfounded. Granting immense power to someone with the mind of a child was like handing a loaded gun to a toddler. The awakening ceremony, after all, wasn't just a ritual—it was a gamble.

If not for the desperate state of the world, no one would have bothered awakening someone like him.

But not everyone shared this sentiment.

"Hey, fool, why are you here?" A group of boys surrounded him, their eyes glinting with malice. The boy shrank under their gaze, suddenly meek.

"I will go, and life will be better," he said softly, as if his mantra could shield him.

The boys smirked at his words.

"This bastard... You get to eat and live for free on our taxes," one of them sneered before slapping the boy. He stumbled back, clutching his head in fear but unable to avoid the blow.

"A retard like you wants to awaken?"

The boy didn't respond. Though slow, he knew that silence was the safest choice to avoid further pain. So he stood quietly as insults and curses rained down on him.

The surrounding crowd? They watched but did nothing, turning a blind eye to the unfolding cruelty.

But one person refused to stay silent.

"Stop it," a young man's voice cut through the noise. He rushed to the scene and pushed the bullies aside. "What is wrong with you guys?" he demanded, disgust evident on his face. "Can't you see he's not right?"

"Jeremy, this has nothing to do with you," said the leader of the group, a boy with thin glasses and a frail frame. Despite his weak appearance, no one dared to look down on him. His name was Yydvin Lass, a student who commanded respect not through wealth or influence but through sheer discipline and hard work.

"What we're doing is justified," Yydvin argued. "We can't let just anyone awaken."

"That's not for you to decide," Jeremy shot back, helping the boy to his feet. "Who knows? He might awaken something useful. There've been plenty of cases like that recently."

"Those are exceptions," Yydvin retorted, pushing up his glasses. "You can't generalize all fools into the same category. Don't forget the ones who turned to crime—most of them out of ignorance."

Jeremy frowned. "You really think he's capable of any crime?"

Yydvin crossed his arms. "It doesn't matter. I can't see the future, and neither can you. But the League of Awakeners is being reckless, letting anyone awaken."

Jeremy didn't want to argue semantics. All he did was mock Yydvin, asking him if he knew better than the League of Awakeners.

 He knew the League of Awakeners (LOA) had safeguards in place for dangerous ability users. Suppressors, originally developed for medical purposes, were freely distributed to individuals deemed too dangerous. If this boy awakened an uncontrollable ability, those same measures would apply.

"What kind of question is that?" Yydvin scoffed at Jeremy's defense. "Of course, I'm better than the LOA. But talking to you is like talking to a wall. Let's go, guys."

The group dispersed, and Jeremy sighed in relief.

Turning to the boy, he smiled. "No need to be scared. What's your name?"

The boy hesitated, as if the question was foreign to him. "I... My name? Dan... and I want a better life."

From a distance, she observed the scene with a faint smile. Seated in the café, her sharp eyes remained on Dan. This is where it all began, she thought.

She knew Jeremy well. He would awaken an incredible ability—regeneration, an almost godlike power that would make him nearly immortal. Years later, he would fight in the Maker's Domain for thirty years before returning, but not without carrying guilt. Guilt that would compel him to fund Dan's hospital bills after the boy's ability caused unforeseen issues.

Issues that rendered the poor Dan immobile and incapable for decades on end due to his absurd ability that was more of a curse.

It's guilt, she mused, her gaze shifting to Yydvin. She didn't know much about him—her future self had sent back information on Dan and a few others, but Yydvin wasn't among them. That could only mean one thing.

Not everyone is built for greatness.

Her eyes returned to Dan. A boy who would one day rise to challenge godlike beings despite his broken mind and body.

The world is wonderfully odd, she thought.

At the venue entrance, Jeremy guided Dan to the registration line. The guard handed each of them a pill, the awakening catalyst necessary for the ceremony.

Dan hesitated, struggling to swallow the pill without water. "Water... Swallowing hard without water," he complained.

Jeremy turned to the nurse, who handed Dan a water bottle with a kind smile. This small act of compassion earned a few grumbles from the students behind them.

"Hurry up!"

Jeremy ignored them. He understood their impatience—the ceremony was a life-changing event, after all.

"Come on, Dan. I'll take you to a good spot," Jeremy said, leading the frail boy into the venue.

At the head of the auditorium, League of Awakeners officers surveyed the crowd of over three thousand students.

"How many good ones do you think we'll get from this batch?" one officer asked.

"If we get ten useful awakenings, it'll be a success," her partner replied.

"Hopefully no runners this time," she said, referring to those who awakened and fled to hide their abilities—a crime in this jurisdiction.

The principal smiled smugly. "Don't worry, officers. We've sealed the doors and hired Returners to ensure no one escapes."

The officers exchanged glances. "Let's hope your precautions are enough," the woman said, her tone skeptical.

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