“Answering my questions without actually giving me any answers.”
“If I were to hand you the entire weight of history today,” Myrmor replied, his tone shifting back to its calm, strategic rhythm, “there would be very little room left for your growth tomorrow. Relish the mystery, Lyra. It keeps the mind sharp.”
Lyra couldn’t help the small smile that slip past her lips.
“…I suppose that’s fair.”
High above Silvercrest, the last traces of gold starlight vanished beyond the heavy clouds.
But far, far below the city streets… deep beneath layers of ancient, forgotten bedrock that no modern history book or mining drone had ever touched… a massive pulse of pure golden energy rippled through a vast, cavernous underground chamber.
Thick dust drifted from the vaulted stone ceiling.
Ancient, spiderweb cracks began to crawl across weathered pillars carved with forgotten sigils.
Upon an immense, crumbling throne that sat silent in the dark, a throne that human history had systematically erased, a single, massive stone finger twitched.
A deep, rumbling voice echoed through the eternal darkness, shaking the foundations of the world.
“The crown has spoken… It has begun.”
The silence that followed was thicker than the earth itself.
The vibrant celebration outside the Grand Awakening Hall continued long into the evening, completely indifferent to Lyra’s quiet exit.
Everywhere she looked, the teenagers of Silvercrest were stepping into their shiny new futures.
A boy from a neighboring school proudly summoned a Flame Hound, laughing as the fiery pup chased glowing orange sparks across the concrete pavement while his parents cheered.
A few meters away, a young girl floated a foot above the grass, suspended by the elegant, translucent wings of a Wind Falcon while her mother wept tears of pure ‘financial relief.
People had paths.
People had value.
Lyra quietly pulled the strap of her old, frayed backpack tighter against her uninjured shoulder, looking down at her worn boots.
Beside her, her mother kept a bright, unshakable smile on her face, acting as if the entire world hadn’t just spent the last hour laughing at her daughter.
“So…” she said, her voice intentionally cheerful as they walked toward the transit station.
Lyra blinked, stopping at the edge of the sidewalk.
“…Mom.”
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“I just awakened an ant,” Lyra said, her voice dropping, thick with the weight of reality.
“A common, non-mutated insect. The lowest tier possible.”
“I have eyes, Lyra. I saw him.”
“No academy is going to want me,” Lyra muttered, her fingers tightening on her backpack strap.
“The applications are automated. The moment the system sees ‘Insect-type,’ the rejection is instant.”
“We don’t know that for a fact,” her mother replied instantly, her voice firm.
“They were literally pointing and laughing at me on the stage, Mom. Even the examiner looked like he wanted to apologize for my existence.”
Her mother stopped walking, turning to face Lyra fully.
She reached out, bumping her shoulder playfully against Lyra’s uninjured one.
“I’ve lived in this city long enough to learn a very valuable secret, Lyra.”
“What’s that?”
“The loudest people in the room are almost always the ones who are wrong.” Her mother smiled warmly, her eyes fierce with an unconditional protective instinct.
“They laughed because their minds are too small to see past a simple label. They don’t know your heart, and they certainly don’t know what you’re capable of.”
The heavy, cold lump of humiliation in Lyra’s chest eased just a fraction.
She couldn’t help but smile back.
“You always say things like that when things go wrong.”
“Because it’s a universal truth,” her mother said, hooking her arm through Lyra’s.
“Now, come on. Dumplings await.”
Deep beneath a thick lock of dark hair near Lyra’s ear, Myrmor remained completely hidden from the passing commuters.
Lyra was honestly beginning to wonder if the bull impact had actually caused a hallucination.
Then, his familiar, resonant voice echoed calmly inside her mind.
“Do not allow the uneducated opinions of mere insects to determine the sovereign worth of a queen.”
Lyra nearly snorted out loud on the public train, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.
‘…You just called the entire population of Silvercrest insects.’
“They behaved exactly like a mindless swarm,” Myrmor stated, completely deadpan.
“I am simply using accurate biological classifications.”
‘…Fair enough.’ Lyra thought, a genuine chuckle bubbling up in her chest.
For the first time since the crystal flickered, the crushing embarrassment fully lifted from her shoulders.
The Eastern District of Silvercrest was worlds away from the glittering glass skyscrapers of the city center.
Here, the air smelled of ozone, frying oil, and laundry soap.
Old, weathered brick houses lined the narrow, crowded streets, and lines of clothes fluttered lazily in the evening breeze while neighborhood children chased each other through dusty gravel alleys.
Their home stood at the very dead end of a gravel road.
It was small, ancient, with faded blue paint peeling from the wooden window frames, but it was incredibly warm.
As Lyra pushed open the squeaking wooden gate to the small front yard, she suddenly froze, her boot hovering mid air.
A long, perfectly aligned trail of common black garden ants was crossing the dirt path directly in front of her feet, carrying tiny bits of leaves toward the fence.
Without even thinking about it, Lyra carefully altered her stride, stepping completely over the tiny workers to avoid crushing them.
Behind her, her mother let out a soft, nostalgic laugh.
“You’ve done that since you were barely old enough to walk, you know.”
Lyra paused at the porch step, looking back.
“I have?”
“Mmhmm. You used to burst into tears if you accidentally stepped on a hill in the garden. You’d spend hours trying to apologize to them.” Her mother smiled, opening the front door.
“I suppose it makes sense that an ant soul found you today. You’ve always been their protector.”
On her shoulder, hidden beneath her collar, Myrmor watched the marching trail of garden insects with an unreadable intensity.
“.. very interesting,” he murmured in her mind.