THE LAW OF LAST EXISTENCE

Rain poured endlessly over the village of Guram. Cold winds swept through the narrow muddy streets, carrying the scent of wet soil and old wood. The tiny village stood at the far edge of the Vestine Kingdom, forgotten by nobles, abandoned by fortune, and ignored by the gods themselves. Most homes in Guram looked one storm away from collapse. Among them stood a small, worn-out house near the edge of the village. Its roof leaked whenever it rained. Its walls were cracked with age. Yet inside that fragile home lived something rare in this cruel world. Warmth. --- A weak candle flickered softly inside the dark room. On a thin mattress near the corner slept a little girl named Shesha beside her father, Algar. Shesha held tightly onto her father's sleeve even in sleep, as if afraid the world might take him away if she let go. Algar, exhausted from another day of labor, rested silently beside her. Though poor, he always tried to smile for his daughter. Outside, thunder growled across the sky. Then— BOOOOOOM—!! A violent explosion shook the ground. The house trembled. The candlelight flickered wildly. Shesha instantly woke up with fear in her eyes. "F-Father…?!" Another flash of lightning illuminated the room white for a split second before darkness swallowed everything again. Shesha grabbed Algar's arm tightly. "I heard something…" she whispered fearfully. "There was an explosion…" Algar immediately placed a gentle hand on her head. "It's alright," he said softly. "Probably just lightning." But even he knew the sound was far too heavy to be thunder. Still, he forced himself to stay calm for his daughter. "Stay here," Algar said quietly as he stood up. "I'll go check outside." Shesha looked frightened. "Don't leave…" Algar smiled faintly. "I'll come back soon." --- The wooden door creaked open. Cold rain struck Algar's face immediately. The storm outside had become strangely quiet. Too quiet. Algar slowly stepped into the courtyard, carefully looking around the darkness. Then— He froze. Near the entrance of the house… lay two babies wrapped separately in soaked rags. One had soft black hair darker than the night sky itself. The other possessed pale white hair that almost glowed beneath the lightning. Both looked no older than a few months old. Tiny. Fragile. Helpless. The black-haired baby slowly opened his eyes. Pure black. Silent and emotionless. Beside him, the white-haired baby quietly stared upward with calm silver eyes. Neither cried. Neither moved much. It was almost unnatural. The rain continued falling around them, yet strangely… Not a single drop touched the babies directly. Algar's expression stiffened. "Who would…?" He quickly looked around the village road. Nobody. No footprints. No carriage. Nothing. Only darkness and rain. The babies had simply appeared there. Abandoned. Alone. Algar slowly crouched beside them. The black-haired baby reached out weakly with a tiny hand, grabbing the edge of Algar's finger. That single touch made Algar's chest ache painfully. Because he understood that feeling. The feeling of being left behind by the world. For several moments, Algar remained silent beneath the rain. Then he sighed heavily. "If I abandon you too…" he muttered bitterly, "…then I'm no better than the person who left you here." Carefully, he lifted the two babies into his arms. The moment he did— The storm above Guram suddenly calmed. The thunder faded. Even the wind itself seemed to stop for a brief moment. But Algar noticed none of it. To him, these were not omens. Not curses. Not miracles. Only two abandoned children. --- When Algar returned inside, Shesha nervously peeked from behind her blanket. Her eyes widened instantly. "Babies…?" Algar nodded tiredly. "They were outside." Shesha carefully stepped closer. The black-haired baby quietly looked toward her with empty black eyes. The white-haired baby blinked slowly beneath the candlelight. Shesha's fear slowly disappeared. "They're so small…" she whispered. Algar placed both babies near the warmth of the candle before covering them with dry cloth. For the first time that night… The babies looked peaceful. Shesha sat beside them carefully. "What are their names?" Algar fell silent. Because he realized something painful. Nobody had even given them names. The candlelight danced softly across the room as rain continued falling outside. None of them knew it yet. But on this storm-filled night… The fate of the entire world had quietly entered a poor house in Guram Village. And somewhere beyond the heavens— Something ancient had already begun watching them.