In the quiet hours before dawn, Iván lay fast asleep in his bed, the moon pendant—Lune—resting against his palm. Soft moonlight crept through the window, slowly reaching the pendant. As the light touched it, Lune began to glow faintly, pulsing in a rhythm almost like Morse code—like it was trying to communicate.
Then, the glow stopped. The pendant rose silently into the air, hovering for a moment over Iván—before suddenly zipping straight into his chest.
Inside his body, something shifted. A pulse of blue light surged through him, burning away the cancer slowly forming in his lungs. Damaged cells were restored, stretch marks on his back from years of growth faded, and the deep fatigue in his muscles melted away. His entire body began to repair and enhance itself.
Iván's eyes snapped open—his silver irises glowing with a frosty light—before slowly shutting again.
Moments later, Lune emerged from within his chest, hovering in the air. Then, it began to change.
Slowly, the pendant shifted form. A polished stone emerged at its center, gripped by four silver fangs at each corner. Intricate metalwork spread behind it, etched with ancient, forgotten symbols. Chains wove themselves around his neck, locking it in place.
It was no longer just a moon pendant. It had become a jewel—an artifact brimming with secret power.
Unaware of the miracle that had just taken place, Iván remained asleep—completely oblivious to the powerful bond now linking him to the mysterious pendant.
Within Iván's mind, he was dreaming—racing through city streets with super speed, just like the Flash. But the dream began to fade, the vibrant rush dissolving into stillness.
"What the…?" he muttered, glancing around. "Am I having a lucid dream?"
He looked down at his hands, trying to feel something—anything—but there was no sensation, just the odd sense of weightlessness.
Suddenly, the ground beneath him turned to water, still and glassy. Stars emerged in the sky above, their reflections shimmering across the surface. Iván's eyes widened as he slowly looked up.
There it was—the Moon. Massive and impossibly close, staring down at him like an ancient eye, as if peering into the depths of his soul… judging him.
Guardian…
The word echoed in a whisper, faint but distinct.
Before Iván could speak, the scene shifted. The moonlight dimmed, the stars vanished, and behind him, a tree stump appeared—weathered, ancient, and out of place in the watery void.
The Nemeton.
Iván's eyes snapped open, and he let out a breath. "What the hell was that…?"
His hand rested over his face as he tried to recall the dream, but the memory was already slipping, buried deep in his mind.
Then he glanced at the clock.
"Shit! It's 7:40!"
He bolted upright, racing into the bathroom and jumping into a quick five-minute shower. As he hopped out, still dripping, he balanced on one foot while brushing his teeth.
Mid-brush, he paused.
"Huh?"
He leaned closer to the mirror. His teeth—bright white. Not just clean, but white white, and perfectly straight.
He stared for a second, confused.
"…Weird."
Shaking it off, he hurried to get dressed. No time for questions—not if he didn't want to be late.
Iván dashed into the kitchen, finding his mom and sister already getting ready to leave.
"Mom! Why didn't you wake me up?"
"Oh? You're old enough to wake yourself," she said with a shrug.
His sister gave him a curious look. "Hey… what's that around your neck?"
Iván glanced down, expecting to see the moon pendant—but froze. His eyes widened.
It wasn't the same.
It was a blue jewel now. Elegant, glowing faintly by the light, and held by silver fangs—it looked like something worth millions.
"Uh… it's something I bought from a thrift store," he said quickly.
His mom raised an eyebrow.
Iván rubbed the back of his neck, his thoughts racing.
Did Dad ever tell Mom about the moon pendant?
Now that he thought about it, she never really asked. She had seen it once—tucked away in his box while they were moving—but didn't say much. It didn't seem like she knew anything about its origins.
Back then, it looked ordinary. Just another old trinket.
Something anyone would overlook.
But now…
Now it definitely stood out.
"It suits you," she said with a smile. "Matches your silver eyes perfectly."
Daniela, his mother, walked up and ruffled his hair.
"You're growing up so fast," she added, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead.
"You look just like your dad."
Her eyes briefly darkened with sorrow, but she quickly pushed the sadness away, replacing it with a bright smile.
"Now go on, you're going to be late for school."
"Oh, right!" Iván grabbed his bag and dashed out the door.
As he ran, something felt… different. He was moving faster than usual, his steps lighter, smoother.
Still, he didn't think much of it.
When he arrived at school, he made his way to class.
Opening the door, he let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"Good. Not late."
The classroom was barely filled.
Iván slipped inside and began taking off his hoodie, but suddenly, his body tensed. Loud footsteps echoed in his ears—pounding, rhythmic, and too sharp, like they were right next to him.
It sounded like two people… and then, whispers. No—not whispers. The voices were crystal clear.
"Say, Allison, are you coming to my party tonight?" said a familiar voice.
Lydia. He recognized her tone instantly.
"Um, yeah," Allison replied. "I'm going with that cute boy—Scott."
What the hell?
The sound faded as quickly as it came. Iván stared down at his hand, heart racing.
"Am I going crazy?" he muttered.
Then the classroom door opened, and two boys walked in—Scott and Stiles.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through Iván's head like a migraine.
Danger.
A voice echoed in his mind, low and warning.
What the hell… okay, now I know something's seriously wrong.
Before he could think twice, Iván stood up just as Mr. Harris entered the room.
"And where do you think you're going, young man?" the teacher asked, clearly annoyed.
But Iván didn't stop. He rushed past the desks, ignoring the stares, and accidentally bumped into Allison in the hallway.
"Sorry—my bad," he mumbled, barely slowing down.
Then he heard it—her heartbeat. Clear, loud, rhythmic.
Too loud.
Eyes wide, Iván darted into the boys' restroom, gripping the sink as he stared into the mirror.
He turned on the faucet, splashed cold water on his face, and let out a shaky sigh. But when he looked up again—he wasn't alone.
A figure loomed behind him.
"Payback," Jackson snarled.
Iván barely turned before Jackson threw a punch—but to Iván, the swing moved in slow motion. Calmly, almost instinctively, he caught Jackson's fist mid-air.
"What the—?" Jackson gasped, trying to pull away.
Iván's grip tightened. He twisted Jackson's wrist, making him cry out in pain, then grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground, slamming him against the tiled wall.
The temperature in the room dropped. The running water from the sink suddenly stopped—frozen mid-drip.
"Iván!" a voice barked.
A teacher burst through the door, eyes wide at the scene. "What the hell is going on?!"
Iván blinked, reality snapping back like a rubber band.
"Principal's office. Now!"