The sky above Astra Village had always been gentle.

Soft clouds drifted lazily across the blue, and the wind carried the scent of wheat from the surrounding fields. It was the kind of place where nothing ever changed—a peaceful corner of the world forgotten by fate itself.

At least, that was how it used to be.

Eren Vale stood alone at the edge of the fields, his feet sunk slightly into the dry soil. Sweat dripped down his face as he tightened his grip around a wooden sword, its surface cracked and worn from years of use.

“Again,” he whispered.

He raised the sword and swung.

The blade cut through the air clumsily. His balance faltered, his foot slipped, and in the next moment, Eren fell hard onto the ground. Dust rose around him as the sword rolled out of his hand.

Pain shot through his arms, but he barely reacted. Pain was familiar.

Eren pushed himself up slowly, breathing heavily. His body had always been like this—weak, slow, unresponsive. No matter how much he trained, no matter how many times he tried to push past his limits, the result never changed.

“You really don’t learn, do you?”

The mocking voice came from behind him.

Eren turned to see three boys standing a short distance away, all older, all stronger. They wore confident smiles—the kind that came from knowing they were better.

“Still pretending you’ll become a warrior?” one of them laughed. “People like you should know their place.”

Eren said nothing.

He bent down, picked up his wooden sword, and walked past them. Their laughter followed him for a moment before fading into the wind. Silence was easier than words. It always had been.

By the time the sun began to set, Astra Village came alive.

Lanterns were hung along the streets, glowing warmly as night approached. Music echoed from the village square, and laughter filled the air. It was the night of the Annual Sky Festival, a celebration meant to honor the heavens that protected their land.

Families gathered. Children ran freely.

Eren watched from the edge of the crowd.

He had no place there.

His eyes drifted upward, toward the darkening sky. Memories surfaced—memories he tried to bury but never could.

His mother.

Her gentle voice. Her tired smile. The night she disappeared without explanation, leaving nothing behind but unanswered questions and a hollow ache in his chest.

The last thing she had said to him echoed clearly in his mind.

When the sky breaks, don’t run. Look up.

At the time, he had been too young to understand. He had thought it was just another strange saying, another story meant to comfort a scared child.

Now, years later, the words felt heavier.

The music suddenly stopped.

A deep, unnatural crack echoed across the village.

People froze.

For a brief moment, the world held its breath.

Then the sky shattered.

Not with thunder. Not with lightning.

The stars themselves split apart, forming a massive black fracture across the heavens, as if the sky were made of glass. Violent winds tore through the village, extinguishing lanterns and sending debris flying.

Screams filled the air.

“What is that?!”

“Run!”

Panic spread like fire. People scattered, desperately searching for shelter.

Eren stood frozen.

His heart pounded violently in his chest, but his legs refused to move. Fear wrapped around him, yet beneath it stirred something else—something pulling his gaze upward.

Don’t run. Look up.

Slowly, he raised his eyes to the sky.

From the裂裂 fracture descended a glowing symbol, ancient and incomprehensible. It burned with a deep blue light, its shape constantly shifting, as if alive.

The symbol fell.

The ground trembled violently as it crashed into the earth just meters in front of Eren. A shockwave burst outward, throwing him backward. He hit the ground hard, gasping for breath.

Before he could react, a cold voice echoed inside his mind.

“Bearer… found.”

Agony exploded through his body.

Eren screamed as glowing symbols burned themselves into his right arm, carving deep into his skin without drawing blood. His vision blurred as countless images flooded his thoughts—cities reduced to ash, gods falling from the sky, endless wars fought beneath broken heavens.

He felt small.

Insignificant.

Yet at the same time, unbearably important.

Then everything went dark.

When Eren opened his eyes, the world was silent.

Smoke rose from the ruins of Astra Village. Houses lay destroyed. Fires burned where laughter once filled the streets.

His arm throbbed violently.

Eren looked down and froze.

Dark-blue markings glowed faintly along his skin, pulsing as if alive.

A slow clap echoed behind him.

“So it’s true,” a calm voice said.

Eren turned.

A knight stood before him, clad in black armor that reflected no light. His presence alone felt suffocating. Red eyes glowed beneath his helmet, locked onto Eren with chilling intensity.

“The Sky Mark has awakened once again,” the knight continued.

He drew his sword.

Eren’s body trembled, unable to move.

The knight raised his blade and pointed it directly at Eren’s heart.

“And you,” he said coldly,

“must die before you destroy this world.”

The blade hovered inches from Eren’s chest.

He could see his reflection in the black steel—wide eyes, trembling lips, a boy who had no idea why the world had suddenly decided to end him.

“W-wait…” Eren’s voice cracked.

The knight did not hesitate.

The sword came down.

Instinct moved before thought.

A surge of heat exploded from the markings on Eren’s arm. Blue light burst outward, throwing the knight backward like a rag doll. The ground shattered, stones lifting into the air as if gravity itself had forgotten its role.

Eren screamed and collapsed, clutching his arm.

“What… what is this…?” he gasped.

The markings burned brighter, crawling across his skin like living things. Power roared through his veins—wild, uncontrollable, terrifying.

The knight landed on his feet several meters away, armor scraping against stone. He slowly straightened, red eyes glowing brighter than before.

“So the Sky Mark responds to threat,” the knight said calmly. “Just as the records described.”

Eren struggled to stand. His legs shook violently.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he shouted. “I didn’t choose this!”

The knight tilted his head slightly, as if studying a curious insect.

“No bearer ever does,” he replied. “That is why all of them must die.”

With a single step, the knight vanished.

Eren barely had time to react.

Steel clashed against glowing energy as the knight’s sword slammed into an invisible barrier formed around Eren. The impact sent shockwaves ripping through the ruins, collapsing what little remained of nearby buildings.

Eren felt his knees buckle.

“Stop!” he cried. “Please!”

The barrier cracked.

The knight pressed forward, strength overwhelming. “Your existence threatens the balance of the world,” he said coldly. “Emotion does not change that.”

The barrier shattered.

Eren was thrown backward, slamming into a broken wall. Pain exploded through his back as he fell to the ground, coughing blood.

His vision blurred.

I’m going to die.

The thought came quietly.

Then another voice whispered from deep within him—low, distant, ancient.

“Survive.”

The markings on his arm flared violently.

Eren screamed as power poured out of him uncontrollably. The ground beneath him fractured, cracks spreading like spiderwebs. Blue flames erupted around his body, forcing the knight to retreat.

Eren staggered to his feet, eyes glowing faintly.

“I don’t want this!” he shouted, tears streaming down his face. “But I won’t die here!”

He raised his arm instinctively.

A blast of raw energy tore through the air, ripping apart the ground where the knight had stood moments earlier. Dust and debris filled the ruins, obscuring everything.

For a moment, there was silence.

Eren collapsed to his knees, breathing hard. His entire body felt like it was on fire from the inside.

Then footsteps echoed through the smoke.

The knight emerged unharmed.

“Unrefined,” he said. “But impressive for a first awakening.”

Fear crushed Eren’s chest.

The knight raised his sword again—but stopped.

His red eyes narrowed.

“Interesting…” he muttered.

From the edge of the ruins, a voice called out.

“That’s far enough, Sky Knight.”

The knight turned.

A woman stepped forward from the shadows, her cloak fluttering in the fading wind. Her silver hair glowed faintly under the fractured sky, and a long staff rested in her hand, runes carved along its surface.

“You’re interfering with Order business, mage,” the knight said.

The woman smiled calmly. “And you’re about to kill a child. I’d say that makes us even.”

The air around them shifted.

Eren felt pressure—heavy, suffocating—far greater than anything he had felt before.

The knight lowered his sword slightly.

“This bearer is dangerous,” he said. “Keeping him alive risks everything.”

“Or,” the woman replied, “killing him guarantees disaster.”

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, the knight stepped back.

“This is not over,” he said, pointing his blade at Eren. “The Order will hunt you. Every Sky Knight will know your face.”

Then he vanished into shadow, leaving only shattered stone behind.

The pressure disappeared.

Eren collapsed fully this time, consciousness slipping.

Before darkness claimed him, he felt arms catch him.

—

When Eren woke, warmth surrounded him.

He lay near a small fire inside a ruined shelter outside the village. His arm was wrapped in cloth, the markings faint but still visible.

The silver-haired woman sat nearby, stirring a pot.

“You’re awake,” she said without looking up. “Good. I was starting to wonder if I’d saved you for nothing.”

Eren tried to sit up and winced. “Who… who are you?”

She glanced at him, eyes sharp but kind.

“My name is Lyra,” she said. “A mage. And unfortunately for you… someone who knows exactly what that mark on your arm means.”

Eren swallowed. “That knight said I would destroy the world.”

Lyra’s expression darkened.

“Many worlds,” she corrected softly.

Eren’s hands trembled. “Then… should I die?”

Lyra stood and walked over to him, kneeling so they were eye to eye.

“No,” she said firmly. “You should learn the truth. And you should learn control.”

She placed a hand over his marked arm.

“The Sky Mark is not a curse,” she continued. “It’s a weapon created to kill gods. And every time it awakens… the world bleeds.”

Eren felt his heart sink.

“Why me?” he whispered.

Lyra looked toward the broken sky in the distance.

“Because the sky doesn’t choose the strongest,” she said. “It chooses the one who will suffer the most.”

She stood.

“If you stay here, the Order will kill you,” she added. “If you come with me… you might survive.”

Eren looked at his trembling hands.

Then he nodded.

“I’ll go,” he said quietly.

Lyra smiled faintly.

“Good,” she replied. “Your nightmare has only just begun.”

TO BE CONTINUED — EPISODE 3

The wind howled across the cliffs outside Astra Village.

Eren stood at the edge of the world.

Behind him, Lyra’s cloak fluttered softly in the cold air. The broken sky above still carried faint cracks, glowing like scars across the heavens.

“It’s coming,” Lyra said quietly.

Eren felt it too.

A pressure in the air. A vibration beneath his feet. The world itself seemed to tremble in anticipation.

From the horizon, shadows gathered.

The Sky Knights had arrived.

Five figures stepped forward, each clad in dark armor, their presence suffocating. And at their center stood the knight from before—the one with burning red eyes.

“The bearer lives,” he said calmly. “And so the cleansing begins.”

Eren’s arm began to glow.

The Sky Mark pulsed violently, as if responding to its enemies.

Lyra stepped beside him. “Remember what I told you,” she said. “Control it. Don’t let it control you.”

Eren swallowed.

“I don’t even know how,” he admitted.

The red-eyed knight raised his sword.

“You were never meant to learn,” he said. “You were meant to die.”

The battle exploded without warning.

The Sky Knights moved in perfect synchronization, blades cutting through air faster than sight. Lyra’s staff lit up with silver light as she cast barriers and counter-spells, barely holding them back.

Eren tried to focus.

The mark burned.

Voices echoed in his mind—memories of war, destruction, fallen gods screaming as they were struck down by power like his.

“Stop…” he muttered.

One of the knights broke through Lyra’s defense and lunged toward him.

Instinct surged.

Eren raised his arm.

Blue light erupted outward in a massive shockwave, blasting the knight into the sky. The earth cracked beneath him as raw energy poured from his body like a storm.

The remaining knights hesitated.

The red-eyed knight stepped forward alone.

“So it awakens further,” he murmured.

He moved like lightning.

Their clash split the ground.

Sword met energy, black steel grinding against glowing blue flames. The impact sent tremors through the cliffside.

Eren felt himself losing control.

The power inside him wasn’t steady—it was chaotic, wild, ancient.

“You see?” the knight said as they struggled. “This is why you must die. You are not strong enough to wield it.”

Eren gritted his teeth.

“Maybe not,” he said.

The knight’s sword pushed closer.

“But I won’t let you decide my fate!”

The Sky Mark flared brighter than ever before.

Suddenly, the cracked sky above responded.

Light poured down from the fracture in the heavens, connecting with the mark on Eren’s arm. The world fell silent.

Time slowed.

Eren saw it then—the truth.

The Sky Mark was not evil.

It was a balance.

Whenever gods grew corrupt… whenever power tipped too far… the sky created a weapon to reset the world.

And that weapon was human.

He saw his mother standing beneath a broken sky years ago.

She had been a bearer too.

She had chosen sacrifice.

Tears streamed down Eren’s face.

“So that’s why…” he whispered.

The knight noticed the shift.

“Impossible,” he said. “You shouldn’t be able to synchronize fully.”

Eren’s eyes glowed bright blue.

“I won’t destroy the world,” he said calmly.

The energy stabilized.

Controlled.

Focused.

“I’ll protect it.”

With one final surge, Eren released a concentrated beam of light directly into the sky.

The fracture above began to mend.

The black cracks slowly sealed, stars returning to their places.

The remaining Sky Knights staggered back.

The red-eyed knight dropped to one knee.

“It has never… chosen mercy before,” he muttered.

Eren fell to his knees as the light faded.

The mark on his arm dimmed, but it did not disappear.

The sky was whole again.

Silence covered the land.

The surviving knights retreated without another word.

Lyra rushed to Eren’s side.

“You did it,” she whispered in disbelief.

Eren stared at the restored heavens.

“No,” he said softly. “This is just the beginning.”

He stood slowly.

“The sky doesn’t want destruction,” he continued. “It wants balance.”

Lyra studied him carefully.

“And what will you do now?”

Eren looked toward the horizon, where kingdoms lay unaware of what had nearly happened.

“If the Sky Mark is meant to judge gods,” he said, “then I’ll make sure it never becomes a weapon of fear again.”

A faint smile appeared on Lyra’s face.

“The world just gained its first Sky Guardian.”

The wind moved gently through the grass.

Above them, the sky was clear.

But far beyond the visible world… something ancient stirred.

Watching.

Waiting.

END OF SKYFRACTURE