When countries fell like rotten wood, war was no longer a fallacy. It was a coin. Smoke clouded the skies, and rivers ran red with blood. Peace only existed as a past story no one would dare share. The land ripped in half; the new horror was in the rebels, the warlords, and broken promises. But above this madness, the eyes of a frozen sun. One man: the Heavenly Lord. He had no throne, no temple, only fear. But that was enough. He wanted more. "Peace," he once breathed to his generals, "can only come from fear. The fear that creeps into your bones. The fear that kneels before no god—only me." Just to build this peace, he did not need warriors. He needed monsters, and Then— " 200 orphans" of a war, famine, and plague were swept from the ruins and ashes. Some heroically recalled their homes. The vast majority? Not. "All these were broken fragile things.
They were transported into a closed stone building very deep into the earth. No light shone upon their condition. No voice promised comfort. Once every two days food. Once a day water. No names. No orders. No hope.
Then, one day: a voice is heard from above.
"Only twelve may live."
Nothing more than that. Then the doors open.
And killing begins.
She had no name. She had no memory of a mother's warmth, or a father's voice. She recalled hunger. Cold. Hands on her skin. But not much else. When fighting starts, she does not join it.
She runs. She is small. Skinny. Ten years old, at least? A girl with empty, pitted cheeks and scared eyes. Bare feet make no sound as she sinks through cracks and shadows. Scream is resounding with pain behind her back. Bones crack. Bladed-swords: scream. She finds a room: bare, dark, empty.A broken dagger leaned against the wall in the corner. Rusty. Blood. She holds it with trembling fingers.
It weighed heavily.
Choosing between her life and death.
She lay in that room for hours, listening to the chaos.
Then there were steps.
A boy stood by the door, maybe one year older. His clothes were ripped apart. Blood covered his chest. He didn't have a weapon.
They stared at each other.
"I don't want to die." He said softly. Frantic. He advances a step. "Let's run away together. I-"
The dagger moves anyway.
Relieved body moved before her brain knew which one to react. The blade sank into his chest, with a sickening crunch.
His eyes opened wide. Dumbfounded. Painful. Confused.
He fell. Blood beneath him.
She was stunned. The dagger still in her hands.
ToyotaThen she let slip beside him, her small hands pressed on the wound as if that could undo it. As if she had not become something.
She cried. Without any tears, only the floor shaking. c
hhdeld anywhere else. The children. Fights developed in the middle of the halls with glass broke, the legs of broken chair, the teeth and the nails tearing on each other. One boy snapped on other's neck with bare hands. A girl used a spoon turned into a knife. They cut her back. Blood was on the floor. But among them there was someone who was very high above who was tall and skinney and his eyes were ice of coldness. He was called Yao (The First Star) although no one did know him yet.
Towards its chaos death only twelve kids remainded -They were thrust into a room that was lit by weak torches. Eyes sunken. Shaken bodies.
The air shifted.
A man came in. In white and black silk adorned with celestial designs. His stance weighed like thunder. He was no elderly, but time had marked his eyes.
He was the Heavenly Lord.
He stood glaring at them like a smelter of iron ore.
"Those are the blades," he said.
He whined at slow pace each of them. "You," pointing at the tall boy, "twenty-one kills in nine minutes. You shall be First Star."
A second boy. Cold, eyes open. "Second Star."
Then he approached the girl. Her topaz face showed no expression. Blood was on her cheeks. The dagger still held in her fingers.
"Does she have no name?"
"No," said a soldier.
He once stared at her for a long time.
"Wow, then she is the Annihilating Star."The Twelve were taken above ground for the first time in months. The sky hurt their eyes.
They were led into a courtyard—broad, bare, surrounded by armed soldiers.
"Hear me from the Heavenly Lord again."
"You survived each other. Now, survive me."
No sound more.
Rush of the guards.
Clashes of blades. Shrieks.
The girl—the Annihilating Star—who dodged the spear and rolled across gravel slashed the spear up. Blood sprayed. A man fell. Then another butt in her ribs. She unsteadily coughed blood.
Yao—First Star—fought like a demon. Boundless blade whirled, cutting, leaping. He hacked down three men in seconds.
But the guards weren't skilled. The children weren't.
One fell. The next. The next. Also the girl couldn't stop him. She reached out to Yao but a spearhead blocked her path. She dropped low, slashed a leg, and was kicked back into the dirt.
Everything blurred.
The sky. The blood. Shrieks.
She tried to rise.A boot pressed down.
Black robes. The Heavenly Lord.
He looked down at her. "Does this mean your tolerance limits?"
The girl didn't answer.
He turned with his arms wide. "You survived and thought you became the strong one. When survival lasts a lifetime is when you become the strong one."
He stared at the broken and bloodied twelve.
"You are now mine. Each of you is a star. I will make you into a constellation that people everywhere will never forget. "
And the girl's eyes looked at him.
And in them something died.
And then something else was born.
She just whispered, "I am the annihilating star."
The other stars looked at her.
They bowed their heads.
From that second, they were no longer children. They were weapons.
The war… had just begun.