Neon walked far from the palace district, the marble spires shrinking behind him until they were nothing more than distant silhouettes against the late‑evening sky.
The streets of Arden’s outer capital stretched ahead in long, gleaming lines of polished pavement, each one alive with the hum of modern life.
The kingdom’s wealth showed in every detail—glass storefronts reflecting signs, towering billboards displaying political announcements, pedestrians dressed in tailored suits and flowing cultural robes…
All moving with the calm confidence of people living on the most stable, most influential continent in the world.
Neon walked through it all with his hands tucked into his pockets.
He had already doubted the royal summons would lead to anything of real importance, but it was always wise to maintain the ties one had worked to build…
if only for appearances’ sake.
—– His own house came into view: a small mansion of white stone and dark marble, elegant without being ostentatious.
The walkway leading to the front door curved through a garden of glowing flowers genetically engineered to bloom year‑round.
As Neon stepped onto the path, a voice called out from the yard next door.
“Yo!
Neon!” He turned his head, a smile playing at his lips the moment he noticed a familiar young man leaning casually against the fence.
The young man, also eighteen, had short, messy dark hair and striking green eyes that seemed to take in every detail around him.
Neon gave a casual wave of his hand as he spoke.
“Atlas, don’t tell me you’ve been waiting for me all day like some kind of weirdo, have you?” Atlas scoffed, rolling his eyes as he pushed off the fence.
“Yeah, fucking right.” He laughed, the sound loud and easy, brushing a hand through his hair as he stepped out of his yard.
Atlas paused at the edge of the walkway, tilting his head with a grin.
“So… been playing with the Princess again?” Neon scoffed, waving a hand dismissively as he reached for his front door.
“Brother…
Get lost.” Atlas laughed again, shaking his head as he turned away, heading down the street with a lazy stride.
— Neon stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and the moment the seal shut, the warm, savory scent of roasted meat and seasoned rice drifted through the air like a welcoming embrace.
A faint smile played at his lips as he reached up, loosened the collar of his blazer, and shrugged it off.
He placed it neatly on the entryway rack, then bent to unlace his shoes.
He straightened, rolling his shoulders once, letting the tension of the long walk and the King’s endless chatter melt away as he made his way toward the dining room.
The soft glow of warm lights spilled across the polished floors, and the low murmur of familiar voices drifted from ahead.
His parents were already seated at the long dining table, plates full, steam rising from the dishes.
His father sat at the head, posture relaxed, red eyes sharp even in calm moments, white hair tied loosely behind him.
His mother sat beside him, her long white hair cascading over her shoulders, her black eyes warm and gentle as she looked up.
The moment she saw Neon, her smile blossomed.
“Welcome home, sweetheart.” His father chuckled, tapping his spoon lightly against the bowl.
“Haha, son…
You’re almost too late.” Neon laughed as he pulled out his chair.
“Yeah, right.
If I showed up an hour later, all the food would still be here.” His father snorted, shaking his head as he reached for another bite.
“Who said I can’t simply throw it away?” He questioned as he chewed.
“You know I have enough money to…
do as I please.” At those words, Neon rolled his eyes, and then they ate together, the clinking of utensils blending with the soft hum of the house’s air conditioner.
After a few minutes, his mother leaned forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“So… how are things going with Princess Lea?” Neon paused mid‑bite.
Still, despite his clear reluctance to speak on such things, she smiled wider.
“Are we to be expecting a grandchild soon?” His father chimed in with a low laugh, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“While Neon doesn’t find interest in what’s important… at least his looks brought about something good, right?” To their banter, Neon didn’t even look up.
He kept eating, chewing slowly and deliberately, refusing to acknowledge the topic as though it were nothing more than background noise.
He swallowed, reached for his drink, and finally spoke.
“So…
how was your day?” His mother exchanged a look with his father—half amused, half exasperated—but answered anyway, slipping into a gentle recounting of errands, meetings, and small household matters.
Neon listened quietly, grateful for the shift away from the Princess.
Eventually, his father leaned back in his chair, letting out a deep sigh as he patted his stomach.
“Ah…
Maylene, you truly do the work of the gods,” he murmured, standing with a slow, deliberate stretch.
His wife rose alongside him, chuckling as she brushed her hands lightly against her dress.
His father turned his gaze to Neon, his voice casual yet carrying an unmistakable weight.
“Son…
we’re not immortals, you know.
And money doesn’t last forever.
You should make the most of the time you have…
before it’s too late.” Neon lifted his gaze, red eyes calm and unreadable, the faintest flicker of thought passing behind them…
it was quick, subtle, and gone before it could be expressed.
—- Later in the night, Neon lay sprawled across the wide expanse of his bed, the soft mattress sinking slightly beneath his weight as the dim glow of the wall‑mounted television cast shifting colors across his ceiling.
The room around him was spacious, almost unnecessarily so…
With sleek black shelves lined with trophies he never cared about, a massive entertainment system humming quietly, and a panoramic window overlooking the quiet, wealthy neighborhood of Arden’s outer capital.
In that moment, though, he didn’t notice any of it.
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
He stared upward, eyes half‑focused on the ceiling as he tossed a football straight into the air, catching it against his palm with a muted sound, repeating the motion again and again.
“What do I even want from myself…” He let out a slow breath, watching the football spin above him before it dropped neatly back into his hands.
Neon found himself pondering this almost every night.
Long before he became the charming figure he was now, he often felt lost in the grandeur of his family.
From the moment he was born, his parents were among the most important people in the entire kingdom—ranked above the Duke Houses and just beneath the Royal Family.
With unmatched wealth and influence, inheriting it all felt dull to him, as if his life’s path had already been decided.
His family was rich, and despite his father insisting the fortune was “his,” they never treated Neon poorly.
In fact, they only wished for him to discover some ambition.
He tossed the ball again, catching it with a soft thud, fingers wrapping around the worn leather.
His father—Lucien Heart—had built the House of Hearts from nothing, rising in fifty years to become one of the most influential men on the continent.
His mother, Maylene Heart, had stood beside him every step of the way, shaping the commerce empire with her own brilliance.
And Neon… well, to most, he was just a womanizer.
Thud!
He sighed, long and low, then let the football fall from his hand.
It hit the floor, rolling slightly before settling near the edge of the rug.
Neon closed his eyes, sinking deeper into the mattress, trying to let sleep pull him under.
But the instant his eyelids shut….
KKKKRRRAAAAABOOOOO!!!!!
A deafening crack of lightning tore through the sky, but it was far from the sound of usual lightning.
It sounded like nuclear detonations ripping open the atmosphere, a violent roar that made the walls tremble.
BOOOOOOOM!!!!!
BOOOOM!!!!!
In that moment, the entire mansion shuddered, the floor vibrating beneath him as picture frames rattled violently and the ceiling itself began to splinter.
Then…
it felt as though the very earth beneath everything gave a deep, resonating shudder.
Not just the walls around, not just the familiar streets nearby, but the whole world began to tremble all at once.
Neon shot upright, heart pounding, breath catching in his throat.
“What the hell…?” He lurched out of bed and hurried to the window.
And when he made it…
he stopped dead in his tracks.