Humanity Did Not Lose the World. It Abandoned It.

My name is Kyra, and I was born in Alpha—the bunker where knowledge was valued above strength. We believed that only two bunkers remained beneath the ruined world: Alpha and Omega. The people of Omega were said to be ruthless warriors, incapable of mercy. None of us had ever seen them. We only knew the stories.

My father, Alpha’s leader, taught me that intelligence could win battles better than weapons ever could. Then one day, an emergency message arrived from Omega.

When my father returned from meeting their leader, he asked something of me for the first time in my life.

He wanted me to marry Omega’s heir.

I said yes.

The wedding took place within the neutral portal connecting our worlds. That was when I met Troy—the man I had been taught to fear. He was nothing like the stories. He was calm, quiet, and kind.

Days later, I learned the truth about our marriage.

It had never been about peace.

It was about producing a child.

For generations, whenever a child was born from the bloodlines of Alpha and Omega, that child was offered to the dragons that lived on the surface world. Humanity believed the sacrifice ensured mankind’s survival.

My father promised that after the child was born, I could return home.

So I stayed.

Despite our circumstances, Troy never treated me cruelly. Slowly, I began to question everything I had been taught—not only about him, but about Omega itself.

Then I became pregnant.

Everyone celebrated. Everyone except me.

When Troy heard the news, I saw something I had never seen before—anger. He left without saying a word. When he returned, he quietly said, “You’ll be leaving soon.”

For the first time, I realized that this child meant as much to him as it did to me.

Months passed, and my child was born.

The last thing I remember before falling asleep was Troy holding my hand.

When I woke up, my father was standing beside my bed.

“We’re returning to Alpha,” he said.

“Where is my child?” I asked.

He refused to answer.

“Your child was never meant to belong to you or Omega,” he finally said. “That child was born for humanity.”

I searched desperately for Troy, but he was nowhere to be found. Before I left, I saw him standing silently at the end of the hall. Neither of us spoke. Our eyes said what our voices could not.

That was the last time I saw him.

Back in Alpha, my mother finally explained humanity’s greatest belief.

Long ago, humanity abandoned the surface world and sought refuge beneath the earth. No one remembered why. Time had erased the truth, leaving behind only one sacred tradition.

Whenever a child was born from Alpha and Omega, that child was offered to the dragons above.

No child had ever returned.

Days turned into weeks. Soon, the Festival of Sacrifice arrived—a celebration honoring my child’s supposed sacrifice for humanity.

I hated every moment of it.

That night, someone knocked softly at my window.

It was Troy.

“I don’t believe any of it,” he said. “No one alive has ever seen what happens on the surface. Everything we know is based on stories.”

“What if our child is still alive?” he asked.

For the first time since losing my child, I felt hope.

“Meet me at midnight,” he said. “We’ll find the truth ourselves.”

That night, we left the bunkers behind.

For our entire lives, we had been told that the world above was ruined—a land of monsters and death.

We were wrong.

The surface world was beautiful.

Forests stretched beyond the horizon. Rivers shimmered beneath the moonlight. People laughed and lived freely beneath the open sky.

Humanity had lied to itself for generations.

Soon, we arrived at an ancient sanctuary where we met its guardian, Hilton McVair.

“You’ve come looking for your child,” he said with a smile.

“Is my child alive?” I asked.

“Every child is alive,” he replied.

I could hardly breathe.

He explained that dragons had never devoured a single child. They had protected them for centuries.

Every child born from Alpha and Omega inherited the greatest gifts of humanity—knowledge and strength united within a single soul. These children were never sacrifices. They were humanity’s future.

“The dragons are not your enemies,” Hilton told us. “They are humanity’s greatest protectors.”

Then he revealed one final truth.

“I know this because I was the first child ever offered to the dragons.”

Humanity had celebrated his death long ago, never knowing he had survived.

“The true cruelty was never on the surface,” Hilton said quietly. “It lived beneath it.”

For generations, humanity had hidden underground, blinded by fear and tradition. The dragons had done what humanity could not—they protected every child entrusted to them.

At last, I understood.

We were never abandoned by the world.

We abandoned it.

Humanity did not lose the world.

It abandoned it.