Chapter Text
✧ THE ORACLE ✧
It has been so many decades since the Gods last spoke that some claim it has been centuries. Others argue even longer. At this point, no one truly knows anymore.
Prophecies have become history lessons instead of lived experiences. But the Academy actually prefers it that way. No prophecies mean peace, and peace means fewer funerals and fewer heroes. And most importantly, for her, it means the Oracle has nothing to do but exist.
She often thinks herself the luckiest descendant in the Academy. Not because she carries the blood of Apollo, nor because she is the only rank 1 descendant of Apollo in Korea.
She is lucky because she was born with nothing and the Academy gave her everything she could ask for.
A room with a ceiling that never leaks when it rains. There's no mold or rats or cockroaches. Three warm meals every day, and even more if she chooses to. A community that supports her. A free education that most mundanes can only dream of. A future guaranteed until the day she dies.
All because the Gods chose her before she was old enough to understand what choosing means.
In return… she simply has to exist. No missions, no battles, no tournaments, and no expectations beyond remaining under the Academy’s protection until the Gods decide to speak again or until she takes her last breath and passes the role of the Oracle to the next generation. Whichever comes first.
The latter seems to be more probable.
Sometimes she wonders if the Gods have abandoned humanity altogether. She doesn’t really mind that because silence from Olympus means she could leave happily. She really hopes the silence lasts forever, but sadly, the Fates have other plans.
It was just like any other day. Nothing outside her daily routine happened—wake up, eat, attend classes, hang out with friends during lunchtime, go back to training, go home, eat dinner, shower, then sleep.
But then, she suddenly wakes up with a scream trapped in her throat.
Every breath burns. Her heart pounds so violently she thinks it might just burst through her ribs. Darkness clings to her room, yet she still sees flashes of light behind her eyes. Images flash through her mind like pages of a book being flipped too quickly for her to read.
An ominous dark sky filled with lightning, with the sound of deafening thunder.
A pair of faceless figures fighting each other.
A seething dragon.
A sharp and long sword.
Blood. So much blood.
A heart-wrenching scream.
Then just… darkness.
Words echo through her mind, not heard, but carved into her very soul. Words a human being isn’t meant to understand. But she’s not just any ordinary human nor descendant. Her hands begin to shake as it starts to sink in.
No.
No, no, no, nononononono!
Why only now?!
The realization strikes harder than the vision itself. She stumbles from her bed and runs barefoot through the corridor, moving on autopilot, the ice-cold marble floors barely processing to her head. She reaches the announcement console specially made for her, and with a trembling hand, she slams her palm against the crystal seal.
For one terrible second… nothing happens. Only her shaky breath can be heard in the silence. And then...
The Academy awakens.
A deafening alarm shatters the peaceful night. Its cry echoes through every building, every room, every corner possible. Light bursts to life across the Academy, and the doors fly open.
Confused descendants pour into the hallways to meet with their guildmates. Some stay on their bed, reaching for their weapon out of instinct. Even the people living in the resident area are all wide awake. Fear spreads faster than the alarm itself, because everyone knows what that sound means. It can only mean one thing.
A prophecy.
Across the Academy, holographic screens flicker into existence—in bedrooms, hallways, dining halls, classrooms, training rooms, in the center of the park, even at the beach.
The Oracle’s face appears on every hologram. Her eyes glow with a blinding white light no mortal flame can imitate, and the voice that leaves her lips no longer belongs to her. It belongs to the Gods.
Children, take heed, for catastrophe wakes,
From Thunder once taken, the ground now it shakes.
Its power lies broken, its fury grown great,
The trigger now pulled by two bound to one fate.
A dragon, relentless, all fury and fire,
A sword, ever valiant, of duty entire.
Though opposite forces, they pull the same trigger,
Both bound by the blood of their one ancestor.
But children, do not dread what comes tomorrow,
For even in darkness, hope can follow.
Remember this truth, both steadfast and bright:
Where there is shadow, there will always be light.
The light vanishes, and like nothing terrifying just happened, the peaceful sound of the night returns.
The Academy falls silent. No one moves, no one speaks, as it all starts to sink in to every descendant in the Academy. For the first time in generations, the Gods have issued a warning. And somewhere, within the land of their country, unknown descendants become the center of a prophecy that will decide the fate of them all.
Now, it’s all up to them to find out who they are before it's too late.