World of Regalia

A boy beneath 2 moons

The rain fell in heavy, relentless sheets as Damian knelt before his grandfather’s grave. Moss and algae had long since claimed the weathered stone, creeping across its surface in patches of green and grey, yet to Damian, it remained precious—the only anchor in a life adrift. His grandfather had been all he knew, the sole constant in a world that had never offered him kindness, until sickness stole the old man away. Every month, Damian came here, kneeling in silence, hoping to relieve some small portion of the burden that pressed against his heart.

“I’ll finally be attending high school,” he said, his voice barely rising above the drumming rain. “I’ve saved enough money to pay for my studies. Then I’ll graduate and become a successful businessman. I’ll own companies, industries—I’ll make a name for myself. No more being criticized. No more being looked down upon.”

Tears mixed with the raindrops trailing down his cheeks. He placed a single rose on the grave, its red petals darkening in the downpour, then rose slowly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

Damian was seventeen years old, a teenager with striking features made unusual by his oddly colored hair. In the world reshaped by the Zenexian Orb, colors beyond black and blonde had become commonplace, yet his red-and-blue strands—melding into a thin line of purple where they met—still drew stares. His eyes mirrored his hair: red on the right, blue on the left, perfectly aligned with the colors above. These features made him more handsome than average, but years of poverty and neglect had dulled his appearance to merely above ordinary.

“Why did the world have to change so much?” he cursed under his breath, bitterness creeping into his voice. According to his grandfather, that change had made him an orphan.

On June 5th, 2008—to be precise—the world transformed overnight. A second moon appeared in the sky, later named the Zenexian Orb, a gate to a parallel realm. It gifted humanity with fantasies both wondrous and terrible, blessing the world with power while cursing it with new horrors. Things called Regalias began awakening within human souls, granting abilities beyond imagination. At the same time, the energy radiating from the Orb gave birth to beings known as Ajumas, creatures that exhibited different characteristics and forms depending on their nature. The masses referred to them simply as demons.

There were three types of Ajumas. Natural Ajumas formed purely from the Zenexian Orb’s energy, coalescing from the raw power that drifted down from the second moon. Worldly Ajumas were born when that energy affected existing living beings—animals, plants, sometimes even the land itself—twisting them into something new. The most tragic were Tainted Ajumas: people who fell to the power of their own Regalias, losing themselves entirely to the abilities that had once been their greatest gift.

Most people awakened their Regalia at the age of fourteen. From that moment, they had two years to familiarize themselves with its nature, learning its limits and potential before they turned sixteen. At that point, they could choose to attend a special military institution or join one of the private factions dedicated to harnessing these powers. The most common path was the academies—mixed schools that offered both normal education and Zenexian studies: anything related to the new moon, including Regalias, Ajumas, relics, energy, and combat.

Damian had finally raised enough funds to pay for his first year. He had managed to awaken a Regalia, but he didn’t know its rank or abilities, and as such, he couldn’t even practice beforehand. His only hope was the academy, which could test him and reveal everything he needed to know.

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Two days later – Alpha Academy testing grounds

Damian stood before the supervisor of his entrance exam, a man in his late thirties whose name tag read Mr. John Snow. Damian read the name in his mind, watching with quiet curiosity as the man reviewed his written test script. The pages were filled with questions on basic knowledge—the fundamentals any aspiring student should know before stepping into the world of Regalias and Ajumas.

After a few minutes, Mr. John recorded the score and typed something into the computer at his desk. He glanced up, catching Damian’s curious gaze. The supervisor smiled—he recognized that look, the eager hunger of a young mind desperate to know where it stood.

“Curious, aren’t you?” he said, his voice gentle.

He handed over the test script. An A+ was boldly marked at the top. Damian exhaled, relief flooding through him. He knew very well that it was the highest score one could obtain on the written test.

“Follow me.”

The gentle voice of his supervisor rang in his ears as Damian walked behind Mr. John, noting the man’s average build—nothing about him stood out, nothing to suggest he was anything more than an ordinary administrator. They came to a sudden halt in front of a small room, barely three cubic meters in size, more cabinet than chamber. The interior was made of a material Damian had never seen before, its surface smooth and faintly luminescent.

Following Mr. John’s instructions, Damian stepped inside and stood perfectly still. The door sealed behind him with a soft click. Through a small window, he watched Mr. John activate the device before observing a screen on the right side of the small room.

The display began to flash—not with a single color, as it should have, but cycling through several. Red, green, blue, purple, gold—each flickered across the screen in rapid succession. This was strange. Normally, the device would display a single color that determined the grade of the Regalia. Instead, it seemed unable to settle on any answer.

Even after several minutes, nothing changed.

Mr. John frowned. He knew how odd this was, but he decided to brush it aside, telling himself it was a growth‑type Regalia that the system had failed to calculate properly—the user had yet to familiarize himself with its power, after all. Of course, deep down, he knew that explanation was flimsy. But for reasons he couldn’t fully articulate, he didn’t want anyone else to know about the anomaly that had just occurred.

He turned his attention to the second display on his left. The words written there were bold and clear:

[Body of Divinity]

“A rare Regalia,” Mr. John murmured, reading the details aloud. “I’ve never heard of anything like this. This kid is something special. With deeper understanding and control, he could infinitely enhance any aspect of his body… giving him the body of a god. Incredible.”

Meanwhile, inside the chamber, Damian was experiencing something far stranger. For a moment, he thought he had gone mad. His grandfather had never mentioned anything like this—a voice speaking directly into his thoughts, a translucent screen materializing before his eyes.

[Ding! System has been awakened due to presence of mana in the body.]

[Integrating system…

1%… 2%… 18%… 35%… 56%… 90%… 99%… 100%]

[Information about the system has been loaded into the host’s brain.]

A scream tore from Damian’s throat—raw, guttural, and far louder than it had any right to be. The sound pierced the supposedly soundproof walls of the chamber, reaching Mr. John’s ears with startling clarity.

“F*ck,” Mr. John muttered, immediately shutting down the device. “The machine is supposed to be ninety‑nine percent soundproof. Just how loud was that scream for it to be this loud?”

He opened the door to find Damian slumped inside, unconscious.

Mr. John knew that continuous exposure to Zenexian rays—Zeta, as they were commonly called—could cause headaches or minor reactions in sensitive individuals. But for it to render someone unconscious? That was something else entirely. He stared down at the young man’s still form, his mind turning over the possibilities.

“Truly strange indeed,” he said softly.