An old man sat in a bus, wanting to reach his home from the city centre. In his hands, he has a headline was about the missing class from Vienna that dissapeared in Prague a few days ago. People were wondering how they could've dissapeared so quickly and if they murdered their teachers, who were found dead in their hotel rooms. The man turned the page of the newspaper, only to remark that the bus arrived at the station he needed to exit at. After leaving the bus, he headed to the home he rented in the city.

He headed inside, ate, washed himself, and headed to the cellars of the home. The door creaked as it opened, only to reveal 20 corpses. They're only sleeping, he conforted himself. He brought them here to change the story in the land he loves so much. It's an awful fate, to remain unconscious, but he knew it was better for the realm he had created. He looked to their faces, boys and girls, not older than 17. Well, one had grown a beard, so the old man wasn't sure. The alchemists of Prague enlightened him, showed him that magic was indeed real and shared with him enough information for the elder to save the realm, the one he loved. The old man looked into the cauldron in the middle of the room, a green liquid in it, glowing in a mystic light. I have to do this, it's not wrong, the man thought. And yet he felt guilt for what he did. But what is done is done.

Taking his glasses off, he wiped a tear. The old man quickly threw away the sorrow at his actions and started the preparations for the ritual. He had learned that everything a person thinks and creates becomes a universe of its own, and he had to save this master piece. Blood was needed, and he retrieved a vial with the teacher's blood. Here goes nothing. The blood met the green liquid and the man almost was burned by the flame that ignited as soon as the blood met the liquid. Now all he had to do is to put a piece of the DNA to send them there, and the mess would be done. Stroking his beard, he went to take a piece of hair from every teenager. They were mostly Caucasian, but there was an Asian and an at least part African girl. After it was done, he threw the pieces of hair into the liquid. It looked like nothing had happened at first, but soon he saw a sort of bond made of plasma around the bodies. It is done! I saved everything!, the man thought and without even looking back, he climbed up the stairs, locked the door to the cellar and threw it in a fireplace. He laid himself on a sofa, and closed his eyes, only to doze off a few minutes later…


I know it is short, but should a prologue be long, I ask? Anyway, your humble fresh author will try to make an update every day, but don't blame me if I don't; I have big plans with this fanfic, maybe a bit too big, but ok... Anyway, reviews are highly appreciated and private message me with questions if you ever need. As to clarify why there is magic in this world, it's just ONCE, ok? I won't give a clarification for it, cause there is none! Got it? Ok, love y'all!

Your humble author

P.S.: I won't reveal the identity of the old man either. That's up for interpretation, ok? For the sake of the story, he is known as 'the old man', alright?