Cygnus, at the brink of insanity, stood before an enormous ruby orb that emitted an electrifying energy as it floated above the ground. The orb, known as the Heart of Wunderdum, was a secret of the city and its greatest weapon. For decades, it siphoned bits of the city's people's magic, too minuscule to be noticed, and stored it within itself. The orb's immense energy was too great to be wielded by any single human and was uniquely sensitive to external magic. As such, while in its dormant state, it was often used by Cygnus as a tracker that could sense concentrations of magic throughout all three lands.
Cygnus's hair was messier than usual, his eyebags larger, and his skin drooped from the weariness of many sleepless nights. Adrenaline streamed through his blood to keep his body standing upright as his bloodshot eyes glanced at the scattered notes lying on the ground. He looked at every instance, every occurrence of the black magic, trying to recognize patterns– but to no avail. His patience further thinned waiting for the Agents of Darkness to send in reports from their worldwide information network, which remained strangely silent.
His teeth crunched as they ground against each other.
Watching anomalous energy markings come and go for days on end was getting him nowhere. He knew he had to go out there himself, for his insistent curiosity could be stagnant no longer. He hurried towards the door, but halted when the only source of light in the room began to waver.
He pivoted his neck back and saw the orb flickering its reddish glow, screaming as if in fear. Brightening then dimming, it demanded Cygnus's attention. The glowing rock glistened in his pupils as he stared intently into its essence, wondering what it was trying to tell him. His focus began to instinctively focus on a tiny, benign point most normal people would never notice. In the bottom right of the most powerful object in all of Wunderdum, a small crack began to erupt, no bigger than a child's fingernail. More than an omen, a crack in such a fierce object, regardless of how small, was not something that ever happened, nor should have. He ran up to the radar screens on the walls, projecting a map of the Westland's territories, and saw a dark, shapeless smog rushing towards Wunderdum. It was the same readings he had witnessed days before Xinyu arrived in the city, though it was much bigger this time.
On the crystal screen maps, stars were used as markers to indicate outposts and towns around the main city, and were directly tied to the energy of their inhabitants. He watched many of those stars disappear as the smog of dark magic passed over. Whatever approached, it was destroying everything in its path.
Cygnus sprinted out of the room and up the granite stairs as panicked feelings began to overflow his body. He had to inform the king, for the heart was directly linked to the city. More than that, it allegedly had the power to contend with even angels, only to be unleashed during the worst possible scenario: the end of the world. Even if it was fearful of what was to come, the prophecy was soon upon humanity.
Atop the basement outside Tintagel Castle, the scholar hastily burst out the door and ran into the main grounds. He sprinted through the halls as bewildered guards stared at him, and he did not stop until he made it to the throne room.
Arthur's chambers were filled with nature, and the king's throne was the grassy ground itself. There was no chair of gold or throne of thorns; just the humble weedy brush.
It was where that man always remained, listening to the chirping birds and other animals that made their home in the throne's ecosystem. Sometimes the pond would ripple from the wind or the tiny fish that swam within, but overall, it was a quiet place where one could die peacefully.
The old king lay there, staring at the sky, not moving even when Cygnus came stumbling in.
"This world I've built…" Arthur said. "Will soon come crumbling down."
"The Heart of-" Cygnus started.
"And when it does, I will fight with every last drop of blood and breath left in this decrepit body to preserve it," Arthur continued. "And when my time comes, will you take the withering torch from my calloused hands and breathe new fire unto it? Will you ensure the survival of humankind regardless of the sacrifices you must make?"
Cygnus paused and caught his breath. The king, though odd and hard to understand, was strangely comforting. Perhaps it was the room. Perhaps it was that man himself. Regardless, he was the man Cygnus was indebted to.
"I will," Cygnus said, kneeling to a bow.
"Do not kneel," the king said. "It's not something I could ever get used to."
"We don't have time for-" Cygnus started, but was interrupted again. This time, by a soldier clad in steel plating who ran into the room, with even less breath than Cygnus.
"My king," the soldier shouted. "Attacks southwest of here! A strange entity, more powerful than anything we've ever seen! We've yet to get official eyewitness reports, but it appears the radars indicate several villages and guard posts have already been destroyed. It's heading straight for the city."
"It's likely drawn to the abundance of magic in the city," Arthur said, still lying in the grass. His legendary sword, Excalibur, sat upright in a stone not far from his body. It was not stuck as the chosen hero had already pulled the sword from the real cursed stone long prior; rather, the rock served as an ironic holster that was more a decoration than anything. Cygnus stared at it, wondering if it would ever see use again.
"Cygnus," Arthur said. "Will you go?"
"Me?" Cygnus asked. "I'm not a soldier… I'm just a scholar– a mere scientist."
"If not you, then who?" Arthur asked. "I'm a useless old fool people call the 'chosen one' just because I pulled a rusty piece of metal from a rock. You, Cygnus, are a much greater man than I. Please, save my kingdom for me."
Cygnus had no choice. Arthur was powerful in his youth, but truthfully, the king was on his last legs.
"I will try my best," Cygnus replied and ran out. He did not hear the words Arthur spoke under his breath.
"For Nikola, do not dare die," the king whispered. "My time to meet him will come soon enough, but that time isn't now."