The void—though changed—remained. No longer empty, but echoing with purpose. The golden cards had melted into their chests like drops of starlight, and the hush that followed was absolute. The kind of silence that listens. The kind of silence that waits.
The Nolans stood rooted, breath caught in their lungs, as the energies danced within them like living threads. They were not simply being given power—they were being rewritten. Something old stirred in their veins now, something ancient and vast, as though the universe itself had brushed against their souls and whispered:
"Become."
And then—
They saw.
Not with eyes, but with knowing. Understanding flowed into their minds like a river of fireflies, each light a revelation. There were no words, only sensations. Instinct. Truth.
Chris grunted, staggering half a step as light cracked across his vision in dazzling fractals. He saw not just brightness, but the shape of it—the way light could bend, refract, sharpen. It could be sword or shield, veil or truth. He could feel the bend of photons at his will, the precision of a lens, the flash of a mirror angled just so. The power to dazzle and blind. To protect and strike. A master of clarity—and misdirection.
Sofia gasped softly, her hand lifting to her temple. Her breath caught in her throat. The air around her felt thicker, like it hummed in response to her heartbeat. Images passed through her—scenes of emotion, of unseen wounds. Pain, fear, longing... And then healing, flowing not from her hands, but her presence. Illusions, too, coiled through her thoughts—gentle, beautiful, protective. Mists of magic that could soothe or deceive. The magic of empathy and wonder.
Isabella was aflame.
Her eyes flared open, gold and red, and she laughed—a short, breathless sound of wonder. Fire moved inside her like it had a heartbeat, synchronized with her own. She felt strength in her limbs—real strength, not borrowed or forced. Her bones felt forged. Her instincts screamed not just to fight, but to win. Her vision was full of armor, of crimson arcs and sweeping strikes, of warriors dancing through battle with elegance and brutality. She didn't just burn. She commanded the blaze.
And George—sweet, brilliant George—gave a loud gasp as knowledge exploded behind his eyes like a supernova.
He was seeing machines. Engines. Flight systems. Gravity stabilizers. Holographic matrices. Circuits and cores twisted through his mind like animated scribbles of pure potential. He lifted his hands and sparks jumped from his fingertips, little motes of blue electricity skipping and spinning like delighted birds.
He giggled. "Cool," he whispered, awestruck.
And then—
The light they had absorbed burst outward from each of them, spiraling into the void as golden beams that curled and converged like rivers pouring into creation.
From each stream of light, a shape began to form.
Chris instinctively moved forward, stepping in front of his family, his arm outstretched in protective instinct—even as something immense and graceful stepped forth from the radiance.
It was tall, taller than a man, humanoid but otherworldly. Clad in armor that glowed with soft gold and pale blue, it bore no visible face—only a mask of brilliance where features should have been. Its wings, made not of feathers but light, shimmered and folded with reverence as it knelt before him.
"Aegion," it said, its voice layered, harmonic—like the echo of a cathedral bell. "Lightbound Sentinel. I am yours to protect, guide, and fight beside."
Chris's throat tightened. He felt no fear. Only a strange, resonant calm. As though the being's very existence had anchored something inside him. The chaos dimmed. The unknown… felt known.
Not a weapon. Not a servant.
A friend.
And around him, more lights began to coalesce—Sofia, Isabella, and George's partners arriving next, one by one…
Sofia's creature came forth like a dream woven from moonlight.
It drifted from the ether, wings spread wide like tapestries of starlight. A great butterfly, yet something far more—its form delicate but immense, ethereal yet grounded in unseen power. Each beat of its translucent lavender and silver wings sent ripples through the air, leaving trails of shimmering magic that danced like dew caught in sunlight.
Its eyes were galaxies. Its voice, the whisper of a lullaby.
"I am Elyra," it said, curling around her in a protective arc. "Healer of thought and soul. I shall be your wings when the storm comes."
Tears welled in Sofia's eyes before she could stop them. She reached out with trembling fingers, and Elyra pressed softly into her hand—a nuzzle of comfort, of trust. The warmth that radiated from the creature hummed deep into her bones.
She had always healed others.
Now, someone would heal her.
Then the stillness shattered with a crash.
George's companion didn't drift or shimmer. It landed—a thunderclap of steel and spark. The creature stood like a panther forged in a starship foundry. Its body was sleek, plated with magnetized alloy and powered joints that moved with uncanny grace. Its eyes glowed a searing blue, and lightning danced across its claws and curled through its tail like living wires.
It looked like a beast of war—and sounded like a rebellious genius.
"I'm Voltis-3," it said, its voice half-mechanical, half-cool older brother. "Tactical Unit. Let's build something awesome, boss."
George blinked, mouth open. "You talk?!"
Voltis flicked its tail, sparks jumping from the floor.
"Do equations dream?" it said with a wink, and George howled with laughter.
Then came the fire.
A pulse of heat swept across the void as the final partner emerged—hers. Isabella's creature stepped forth like a living inferno. Its humanoid form was wrapped in crimson armor scorched with battle scars, the edges glowing molten gold. Fire licked and curled along its limbs like it belonged there—part of it, not consuming it.
Its eyes glowed like twin furnaces, and Isabella could feel the heat, the strength, the will radiating from it.
But it didn't burn her. It called to her.
"I am Asura," the creature said, voice like steel being forged. "Forged in war. I burn with you."
Isabella's heart thundered. She didn't flinch.
She grinned.
"Then let's set the world on fire."
And behind them all stood Alpha—still and silent, a sentinel of fate. His gaze burned like dying suns, watching the formation of bonds that would shake the stars.
"You are bonded now," he said, his voice heavy with meaning. "Not merely to power—but to partners. Living beings who have chosen you, as you have chosen them."
He raised a hand, and arcane sigils spun through the void like constellations.
"In the world you now enter, all beings rise by rank. From Unranked to Iron. Iron to Bronze. Bronze to Silver. Then Gold. Platinum. And beyond.
To Legend Rank… if fate allows. And if not—" his gaze sharpened, "—then at least to GrandMaster. That is the minimum required to tip the balance."
His voice seemed to carry on winds older than time itself.
"Each rank is a chasm. The difference between the weak and the mighty is not only power—but will. Growth. Spirit. Most die before Iron. Fewer reach Bronze. And the journey upward... is cruel."
Chris stepped forward, his stance protective yet resolved.
"What kind of world are we going to?"
Alpha turned. With a flick of his wrist, the void ripped open.
Through the tear lay a sky that defied imagination. Floating islands drifted through a horizon streaked in emerald and gold. Towering jungles pulsed with bioluminescent life. Beasts soared through the clouds on wings of thunder. Oceans sparkled with titanic shadows moving beneath. Volcanoes wept fire. Storms howled over crystalline cities carved into mountains. Castles floated midair, bound by forgotten runes. The world thrummed with magic, mystery, and danger.
"A world of monsters," Alpha said. "A world of intelligence. Of kingdoms… and chaos. It is not your world. But it needs you. And you—whether you know it or not—need it, too."
There was no turning back.
Chris looked to Sofia. She nodded, eyes glistening but fearless.
Isabella adjusted her stance, fire in her veins.
George bounced on the balls of his feet, excitement glowing in every freckle.
Together, they stepped toward the rift.
Into the unknown.
The sensation was like falling—but not through air.
It was like tumbling through a dream, through golden threads and whispering winds, until, all at once, the light dimmed, the warmth returned… and the Nolan family stood beneath a sky that was both alien and breathtaking.
Before them stretched a forest older than memory.
Colossal trees towered above, their trunks gnarled and laced with veins of silver that pulsed faintly like breathing stone. Their leaves shimmered with an iridescent green, as if each one had been kissed by stardust. Strange birds flitted between the branches—some with feathers like crystal, others with three wings or glowing eyes—singing in chords too rich for human voices.
The air was sweet and alive: wildflowers, moss, and something deeper, more primal—a scent that settled in the bones like home.
They stood in a wide clearing, where a large tent had been set up for them. Simple tools and supplies lay neatly arranged nearby—pots and pans, coils of rope, axes and cookware—all they might need to live and thrive in the wilderness.
And still, Alpha's voice echoed—not in their ears, but deep in their souls.
"You have one month," he said, as though speaking from the edge of time. "One month to adapt, to grow, to learn. This forest is your refuge. It is sealed by a barrier I've placed. No monsters shall enter. No scouts will find you. You are hidden—from the world, and from those who would devour the unready."
His voice resonated like a heartbeat behind the trees.
"The barrier spans ten kilometers. Within it lies all you require—fresh rivers, beasts for food, stones to build, herbs to heal. Use it well."
Then, the air around them pulsed.
"And one more gift. Unique to each of you."
They gasped as warmth bloomed in their chests. Not pain. Not fear. Something sacred. Each gift unfurled like a scroll of fire and starlight, ancient yet intimate.
Chris blinked.
Shimmering text danced before his eyes, invisible to the others. A compendium of monsters: not drawings, but living knowledge—habits, habitats, evolutions, weaknesses, statistics, symbols. He could feel the pages turning in his mind, endless and vivid.
"The Monster Encyclopedia," Alpha intoned. "With it, you shall be the mind in battle—the scholar who dissects danger before it strikes."
Chris adjusted his glasses, his expression sharpening.
"It's like a never-ending audit," he muttered. "But with claws and fangs."
Sofia felt something subtler.
Warmth—not just within herself, but around her. She felt her children's wonder, Chris's wary focus, even Elyra and Asura's proud presence. Emotions swam through her like tides, and she could nudge them—soothe, calm, inspire.
"Empathy," Alpha said gently. "The power to touch hearts, to guide and anchor. Yours is the bond that will hold them together… or shatter them apart."
She reached for Chris's hand and squeezed it, grounding him. Grounding them all.
"You won't bear it alone," she whispered. "None of us will."
George's breath caught as glowing circuits raced briefly across his skin. He reached instinctively into his pocket and pulled out his multi-tool.
In an instant, he understood it—not just its structure, but its language. How it wanted to be rebuilt. New ideas swarmed his mind like lightning: a wrench that became a plasma blade. A radio reconfigured into a wide-range signal scanner. The world around him buzzed with potential.
"Technopathy," Alpha said. "The language of machines now lives in your blood. Create. Fuse. Command."
George's grin could've powered a small city.
"This is better than Pokémon," he whispered. "This is everything!"
And then Isabella.
No golden light welcomed her. No sudden vision. Just a shift—a snap, ancient and deep, like a forgotten gear locking into place.
She looked at her hands and knew.
Her posture shifted. Her gaze sharpened. A rustle to her left made her pivot instantly, weight balanced, breath steady. Her heartbeat slowed. Her instincts sang.
"Battle Instinct," Alpha said, reverent now. "The rhythm of conflict flows through you. With every fight, you will learn. With every lesson, you will rise."
Asura stepped closer, silent as flame. Their eyes met, and she nodded.
No words.
She understood.
Then the sky hushed.
Alpha's voice faded like smoke on the wind.
The forest whispered. The wind danced through silver leaves. The camp stood silent, waiting.
And the Nolan family—each now carrying a spark of power, a thread of destiny—stood together in the clearing.
For now, they had peace.
But in one month's time…
The real world would come knocking.