Heaven's Eyes

The air crackled with energy. A deep, guttural hum pulsed through the mist-choked canyon, where two colossal planets loomed overhead—forever tethered by the Great Rift, a shimmering scar of otherworldly magic, raw power, and forbidden riches. Jack Reed had never seen anything like it. His breath came in ragged gasps, heart pounding against his ribs. He knew the dangers of the Rift. That’s why he’d stayed near the outskirts, hunting only along the edges. But somehow, something—an instinct, a whisper—had drawn him closer. Too close. Now, standing amidst ruins that defied logic and time, he realized: he wasn’t alone. He hadn’t meant to find the survivors. They were students, barely more than kids—bruised, exhausted, uniforms tattered. They claimed to be from a martial academy, separated from their group by a rift storm. Jack had listened, moved by their story. And then, against his better judgment… he’d helped them. Together, they searched. Against all odds, they found the others. Crossing a shattered stone bridge, Jack spotted them—Emmet Rowan and his team. Alive. Barely. Their clothes bore the emblem of Phoenix’s Martial Training Facility, a place Jack had never heard of. He didn’t know they were from the other side of the Rift. He took a cautious step forward—but the shadows shifted. A low growl vibrated through the canyon. The Rift itself seemed to pulse as something massive stirred within. Then, the ground quaked. From the mist emerged a nightmare. A beast of impossible scale—claws like swords, eyes glowing with ancient hunger. Its form flickered between substance and smoke, a grotesque fusion of scales, shadows, and jagged bone. A Rift Guardian. Jack barely had time to react. “Get ready!” Emmet barked, stepping ahead of his group. He was only thirteen, but his Etherchi flared like a firestorm. “Run!” Jack shouted. But Emmet charged—Etherchi trembling around his fists—slamming a punch into the beast’s leg. It staggered… barely. With a roar, the beast whipped its tail, sending Emmet flying. The boy crumpled, gasping. The creature’s gaze locked on him—its true threat. It lunged. Jack moved. He drew the only weapon he had—a rusted short sword from the ruins—and leapt onto an outcropping. He knew he couldn’t win. He didn’t have to. He just had to stall. “Over here, ugly!” he shouted, slashing. The blade cut, but the wound sealed instantly. Like smoke. Like shadow. Then, too fast. A claw slammed into Jack, hurling him like a doll. He hit the ground hard. Pain exploded in his ribs. His breath came in wet, gurgling rasps. He couldn’t move. He saw the kids crawling toward him. “No...” he whispered, blood pooling in his mouth. They had to escape. The guardian stepped forward. Jack forced his body to rise. Everything screamed in protest. He could barely lift the blade. He didn’t need to fight. He needed time. With a roar, Jack hurled his sword. Miraculously—it struck the beast’s eye. It screamed. “GO!” he gasped. His vision dimmed. Emmet hesitated… then steadied himself. He prepared to strike—but the beast shattered the ground beneath him with a sonic boom. And then— The sky split. A radiant being descended. Its presence bent reality—shifting between gold and endless void. A voice echoed, neither male nor female: “Enough.” With a flick, the guardian was cast aside, howling as it vanished into nothingness. The deity hovered, divine light flaring. The children rose into the air, pulled away from danger. Then—silence. A moment of stillness. BOOM. A blast of raw power tore through the Rift. From the deepest void, a new horror emerged. Not a guardian. A Rift Horror. A Primordial Abomination—too vast to comprehend, its form a shifting mass of shadow and chaos. Eyes—dozens—burned with hunger. It lunged. Claws ripped through the deity’s face. Celestial blood sprayed like molten stars. Laughter followed—cold, triumphant. “Fallen god… You are alone. There is no salvation.” The world trembled. Students screamed. The god reeled. The Horror turned toward them. “Ah… mortals. How amusing. Perhaps I shall feast on your souls first.” But the deity fought back. A beam of pure celestial energy tore through the Horror. It screeched as part of its body unraveled into storm and void. And in that clash— Fate shifted. Shattered starlight rained down. Countless fragments fell—one to Jack. One to Emmet. The rest unknown to them. There was no time to flee. The divine shards struck. They awoke. Bright sky. Calm air. The Rift Horror was gone. But something had changed. Across greenstone streets, laughter echoed. “Why would I choose you as a teacher?” a haughty voice sneered. Jack Reed sighed. “I’m full of hidden knowledge! I’m a teacher at the academy—I just want to make you my student!” The girl vanished into the crowd. Another rejection. His twentieth that day. Once a humble servant, Jack had died exploring the Rift—reborn now in a land where strength meant everything. He dreamed of treasure, but found only humiliation. Reincarnated… as the weakest teacher in Astoria Academy. Meanwhile, across the Rift, another story stirred. At dawn’s edge, Emmet Grey shot out of bed, dressing in a single breath. His eyes were fierce with determination. "Just a little longer till I earn that orange belt," he muttered. “The Rift tempered me. I know it.” Months ago, he'd come to Phoenix Martial Arts Facility. Once a prodigy in Reed County—now, just another nobody. That’s why he took the Rift trip. To rise. The martial world was brutal. Talent, resources, and training were everything. He’d sworn never to return in shame. That night, lightning split the sky. A purple streak fell, striking before him. A golden circle formed, pulsing beneath his feet, syncing with his heartbeat. He felt it pulling something from deep within. Then— Swoosh! His body glowed. His head throbbed. "Ah!" Emmet screamed—and collapsed. Having No idea of Emmett’s plight Jack strolled the stone pathways of Astoria Academy, hands tucked into the loose folds of his robe, his gaze drifting across the open-air training courts. Morning mist clung to the ground, curling in the chill air. The scent of damp earth and oiled wood filled his lungs. It should have been peaceful—a moment of quiet before the storm of students and sparring—but the weight pressing down on his shoulders said otherwise. He needed a student—fast. Or he’d be out of a job. His thoughts spiraled, as they often did, to his reincarnation. He had come back from death, reborn into a weak, discredited body. The man whose life he inherited had been a failed teacher—one who had foolishly attempted a shortcut in cultivation and paid the price. Worse still, he'd passed that flawed knowledge on to his student, crippling their development. That failure, combined with his students repeatedly failing their cultivation exams, ruined his reputation. One student’s family hadn’t forgiven him. The beating they gave him was fatal. And now, Jack carried that legacy. A murmur of voices snapped him out of his thoughts. Near the eastern sparring ring, a group of young warriors had gathered, their posture rigid, tension crackling between them. Jack’s steps slowed, curiosity piqued. At the center stood a girl—Emily Wright—facing off against a smirking boy. “You don’t get to waste Master Carter’s time unless you earn the right,” the boy sneered. “And you haven’t.” Jack recognized Emily. An outsider, newly arrived, asking for an audience with Master Carter—one of the academy’s elite instructors. But Carter was selective. Before she could approach him, she had to prove her worth. This—this gauntlet of posturing and pride—was the academy’s way. Jack leaned against a pillar and folded his arms. He wouldn’t interfere. Not yet. The fight began. The boy lunged with surprising speed, but Emily moved sharper, smarter. She ducked, twisted, and swept his legs out with a precision born of relentless training. She didn’t waste energy. Every strike had purpose. A final pivot, a brutal kick—and her opponent crashed to the ground. No celebration. No smirk. Just stillness. But Jack caught the flicker—tension at the corner of her lips, a flick of pain in her eyes. Something was wrong. She bowed coolly and turned to leave. Jack stepped forward, casually. “That was quite the display,” he said lightly. Emily turned, guarded but polite. “Thank you, sir.” “Master Carter will be impressed,” he added. “I hope so.” A moment of silence passed before Jack spoke again, softer now. “Though I imagine fighting like that must be… difficult.” She frowned. “Difficult?” “The adjustment mid-match,” Jack said, tilting his head. “Most wouldn’t have caught it—but your weight shifted, just slightly. An old habit, maybe. Or an injury.” She stiffened. There. The tell. “I’ve seen it before,” Jack continued, watching her reactions. “Tiny shifts. Subtle compensations. You’ve trained well, but some injuries... they leave echoes.” Emily’s breath hitched. Jack kept his expression neutral, thoughtful. “Master Carter is a master of footwork. His methods require flawless lower-body movement. An old injury, even a minor one, could make his style... challenging.” She didn’t respond. Doubt bloomed in her eyes. Jack stepped closer, voice low and sincere. “I’ve trained students with injuries before. I know how to adapt techniques. You’ve got talent, discipline. I have the knowledge to sharpen it. If you were my student, that is.” She studied him. Then asked, “Why?” “Because I see potential. And I hate watching it go to waste.” A beat. “Train with me, and I promise—you won’t regret it.” The silence stretched—then broke. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll be your student.” Relief flooded Jack’s chest. One student. One chance. And maybe, just maybe, a path to redemption. He was leaving the courtyard when it happened. A purple streak tore through the sky, lightning crackling around it. It slammed into the ground before him. A golden circle bloomed beneath his feet, pulsing with energy. Jack stared, breath stolen. The circle matched the rhythm of his heartbeat. Then— Swoosh! Pain exploded in his skull. "Ah!" Jack screamed—and collapsed. Somewhere Else Jack drifted in darkness. His body was numb. The only sensation was the pain in his temples—a deep, pounding pulse. Peh. Peh. Peh. A heartbeat. Not his. Something... other. Shoosh! His awareness plunged inward. BOOM! He found himself floating in a pitch-black void. Vast. Silent. Timeless. “What is this place...?” Ahead, a golden light spun slowly—ancient, irresistible. It called to him. Then—words echoed through the abyss. “The Ancient is broken, and the Ancient Gods slain will turn to dust...” The voice was not human. Not living. It emanated from the space itself. "The heaven and earth are callous, treating all beings like dogs..." "The sun sets, the moon wanes. Imperfection appears in the heavens..." Jack spun, searching. “Who’s there!?” Then: “Three souls... in sync with me?” Jack froze. Three? A figure appeared beside him, Emmet Grey, eyes wide with recognition. Another figure stood deeper in the void, cloaked in shadow. Human. Unknown. “To continue my bloodline... the three of you shall rule. You will rise. Command all races. Do not fail me.” The void pulsed. Power surged. And then, silence.