A tall boy with close-cropped ash hair moved through the cluster of people, his black jacket hanging loose over ragged shorts that stopped just above his knees. He stepped between bodies hunched against the cold, between the low murmur of voices that never quite formed words.
"Jesus." His voice came out raspy, scraped raw from a throat that hadn't seen enough water. He swallowed hard, forcing the roughness down. "Why does this have to happen when I'm not working on the other tiers?" He asked no one in particular, his bronze eyes scanning the crowd without really seeing them. In his hand, a big black box that looked similar to a supply kit.
Thud.
The metal box hit the ground near the rest of the supplies. Dirt kicked up around it in a small brown cloud.
"Hey!"
He turned. A soldier stood there, light dark armor fitted close to his frame: the kind built for agility, not brute force. His dark curly hair shifted as he moved, revealing creased lines across his forehead that made him look like he was permanently frowning.
'Ah. Here comes another unnecessary comment.'
The boy straightened. "Yes, officer."
"Those kits are delicate." The officer's eyes were dull black, flat in a way that made the boy's skin prickle.
"I'm aware, officer."
"If you are, then stop acting like some idiot and do your work well."
His jaw tightened, 'I feel the urge to punch this bastard in the face. His brows twitched once, before a gentle smile touched his lips. "I will."
He turned to leave.
"Hey!"
The soldier's tone came sharper now, a blade dragged across stone.
He turned back, meeting the officer's gaze. His bronze eyes caught what little light the fog let through.
"Yes, officer."
"I don't need that attitude." The officer stepped closer. The space between them shrank until the boy could smell metal of his armor and sweat. "I need results. You think I enjoy standing here with low scums like you?" His brows arched downward, deepening the permanent frown into something uglier. "If you don't act well, I'll find someone who will."
The boy's eyes widened. "Please, don't officer. Our deal—"
"Our deal only stands if you do well." The officer's face was inches away now. The reek of stale coffee in the officer's breath came warm and sour against the boy's cheek. His voice dropped low, meant only for him. "If you want food and protection for your sister… work diligently."
"Yes, sir."
"Now that I think about it—" The officer's tongue flicked across his lips. "Your sister is quite beautiful." His mouth curved. "She could definitely survive with—"
"Our agreement was: I do manual labor. 'Your' duties during this chaotic time for you. In exchange for food and my sister's protection." The boy's tone had gone cold.
The officer's arm shot out. His hand closed around the boy's neck.
"Hrk…"
"Don't get pesky with me, boy." His grip tightened, compressing the boy's throat, with air cutting off to a thin whistle. "Do your part and I will do mine."
"Omar."
A voice cut from behind like a blade.
"Let that brat be, and report to duty. The major wants you. Now."
"Tsk." The officer's grip loosened. The boy dropped, his knees hitting dirt, his hands finding his neck as he sucked in air that tasted both dust and relief.
"Haa… Haa… Haa…"
The officer looked down at him, a short laugh escaping his lips. "Your sister will crawl to me on her knees herself." He smiled. "When she does, I will be sure to fuck her right in front of you."
He turned. His curly hair danced gently with the motion, soft and almost pretty against the ugliness of what he'd said.
The boy watched him go. His knuckles went white. His fingers curled into fists so tight his nails bit into his palms. Fuck. I hate when power is delivered to scums.
...
"Shouldn't we join the line?"
Jay's eyes tracked the chaos ahead: a long line of people winding toward the shelter entrance, the soldiers standing at intervals with weapons loose in their hands, the medics moving slowly between the injured.
The group had been waiting close to an hour. Expecting Tessa's return. But she was nowhere to be seen.
"No!" Penelope exhaled, the word coming out sharper than she intended. "Let's wait for the Paragon's return."
"She might have forgotten about us."
"Jay!"
"I'm sorry." Jay held up her hands. "Kaelen's search was futile. Isn't the sooner the better?"
"It's better we wait." Kaelen's eyes tracked the long line of people. His hand was locked with his mother's, her fingers cold against his palm. "There's at least fifteen thousand people trying to get into the shelter. And more keep coming."
"Get out of the line, lady."
A man's hoarse voice cut sharp through the murmur of the crowd. They all turned.
"I was here first." A younger man stepped forward.
"Please." A woman clutched two children to her sides, neither older than nine. Her grip was so tight her knuckles had gone white. "Just let my children in."
"I've been here for ages." The man with the hoarse voice turned away. "Go join the line like the others."
"Please." The woman's voice cracked. "I will do anything."
He turned back to her. His eyes moved over her face, her body, the children pressed against her legs. "Anything?"
"Don't let her in, bastard!" A sharper voice cut through from somewhere behind.
"If you leave that line, you're getting out permanently." Another voice, from deeper in the crowd.
"The chaos is causing disorder." Penelope crossed her arms. "And it's overriding her senses."
"Why would you say that?" Jay frowned.
"She would get in eventually." Penelope's eyes tracked the woman. "But she's letting fear take control."
"A mother's worry will let her lose her sanity, Penelope." Seren's voice was warm and gentle, contrasting the cold, harsh reality of the chaos.
They all turned to her.
"You will only understand when you become a mother." Seren's eyes found Penelope's. "I know this feels repetitive, but you can't understand now."
"I believe they understand, m—"
"I wasn't speaking to you, Kaelen."
"Yes, ma'am."
"A mother's child is as important to her as a bow and arrow would be to an archer." Seren's gaze tracked the woman briefly: the way she pulled her children closer, the way her eyes darted between the line and the man who'd spoken to her. "Take that away," she continued, "and you're left with a useless warrior."
"I didn't mean to insult her—"
"You didn't, Penelope." A gentle smile touched Seren's lips. "It was merely due to ignorance, not arrogance." Her eyes crinkled. "I sound old, don't I?"
"Mom!"
"What! In a world full of cultivators whose age you can't tell accurately, all mine would take is a guess."
"Mo—"
"I don't think so, Mrs. Burn." Penelope turned away, her face hidden from the group. Her voice came barely above a whisper, but they all heard it. "I think you're wise and full of love."
Jay gave Lira a light jab with her elbow.
Lira's gaze shifted. "What?"
"Don't you think Penelope has been acting a little strange since she met Mrs. Burn?" Jay whispered, leaning close enough that her breath brushed Lira's ear. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She ulled back, already waving her hands.
"I wasn't going to lecture you."
"You weren't?"
"No." Lira's eyes tracked Penelope's back, the way her shoulders had curved slightly inward. "Her tone. Her prose. It's like she's dropping everything. It's even different from how she acts with us."
"Aaaargh! "
The scream grabbed everyone's attention. The woman was on the ground now, dirt smeared across her palms where she'd tried to catch herself. Her children tugged at her arms, trying to help her up, their faces pale and screams with horror and fear.
"Hey, man. That was unnece—"
CRACK!
The younger man who'd spoken went flying out of the line, his body a blur of limbs, his impact with the ground sending up a spray of dirt and loose stones.
The crowd flinched with no one daring to move.
"Does any other person wish to oppose?"
The speaker emerged from the chaos. The cause of the commotion stepped into the open space where the line had been.
He was huge. A large dark coat hung from his shoulders, heavy fabric that moved with the weight of muscle beneath. His hair was dark, his posture straight. A scar marked his right eye: a thick line that pulled the skin tight and left that eye slightly narrower than the other.
"T–The officers will stop you." A strained and trembling voice from the line cut through the silence.
He turned to trace the voice: It's a teenage girl. Her hands were shaking at her sides, but her chin was up.
He smiled. Then the smile broke into exhales. Then the exhales became laughter, a burst of sound that startled everyone around him.
"Foolish girl." His tone went sharp, cutting the laughter off clean. "Look around." He gestured at the soldiers standing at intervals along the line. "They don't care about you or me or anyone here. Can't you see it?" His arm swept wide, taking in the line, the medics moving slow between the injured. "They want to reduce your numbers. The medics aren't even trying their best to save the injured. They don't want to bother wasting resources on low shits like you while this woe is upon us."
'And they aren't even trying to stop this.' The ash-haired boy's eyes tracked the soldiers. They were all watching. None moved to stop it. Their eyes were flat, distant, the same as the officer's had been. Some even smiled at the chaos brewing, between the civilians. 'Tsk… These scums.'
A smile touched the big man's lips as his gaze moved from the woman he'd hit back to the teenage girl. "We're trapped in the dome. The line isn't moving. No one has come since I hit someone. No one is coming." He let the words settle. "They don't care about you. They never cared. Is that enough for you?"
Everyone fell silent. They knew they were trapped. But they still held on to whatever hope they had left. Because what else was there?
"The Paragons… are trying their best."
The man burst into laughter again, grabbing his stomach like it hurt, like the effort of laughing was too much to contain. Then he stopped. "Look at you." He took a step toward the girl. "You're not only stuttering but crying at the disbelief of your words."
"They're helping." The girl's tone rose, cracked at the edges. "We're not trapped."
His smile changed in a way that made the girl take a step back instinctively.
"I will beat that out of you."
The ash-haired boy averted his gaze. 'Sorry, but you're on your own.'
Thump.
The huge man's fist connected with something. But it wasn't the girl's face.
In front of him stood a boy. Around six feet. Black and crimson hair in corresponding strands that fell across his forehead. Eyes in rings of crimson that caught the fog-light and held it.
"That's enough." Kaelen's tone was smooth.
'When did he get there?' Lira's eyes widened.
The man pulled his fist back, but Kaelen's grip was firm around it. His fingers didn't move. His arm didn't budge.
'Isn't that…' The ash-haired boy's attention fixed on Kaelen, his bronze eyes narrowing.
"You're stressed." Kaelen's voice stayed even. "Why not—"
BAAAMMM!
The man's free hand slammed into Kaelen's face.
Kaelen went flying. His body carved a trench through the earth, dirt spraying up on either side, stones cracking under the force. He skidded to a stop twenty meters away.
"Kaelen!" Seren rushed forward, her feet slipping in the loose dirt, her hands already reaching. Jay and Lira followed close behind.
The man stretched his fist, watching his knuckles. 'Fucking bastard has no manners. His grip was strong though.'
...
"Shall I deal with him?" Mel's unseen gaze was fixed on Kaelen.
"No. Let him deal with it."
"His mother?"
"You know what to do."
...
The man's gaze was fixed on the three ladies trying to get Kaelen up. But his eyes kept coming back to one in particular, the one with green eyes and brown hair who wouldn't stop running her mouth at him.
"He shouldn't have interfered."
"Why was he playing hero?"
"Youth these days."
The mutters carried through the crowd, low and mean.
"Kaelen!"
"Kaelen! Kaelen!!"
"Aah. Mom? Lira?"
Seren raised his head a little, her fingers gentle under his chin. "How many fingers am I holding, honey?"
"Ten? No." He blinked, his eyes struggling to focus. "Seven."
"Breathe in, Kaelen. Breathe out."
"I'm okay."
He tried to sit up. Lira's hand pressed his chest, pushing him back down.
"Rest." Her voice was sharp, but her hand was trembling. "Don't do anything stupid."
...
"Are you lot his family?" The man's attention fixed on the three: Seren, Lira, Jay. His scarred eye made his gaze seem off-center.
"What's it to you?" Jay snapped.
"I like feisty girls." His smile widened. "I will have fun destroying your face."
Jay raised her hand. The earth obeyed, dirt and stone rising in a wave, building, ready to act.
"Stop, Jay." Kaelen's voice cut through.
"No, stay." Seren's hand pressed his chest as he tried to sit up again.
"You're pathetic at fighting." The man stepped closer, stopping just before the rising earth Jay had summoned. "Yet you drag your family into this." He tilted his head. "Have you no shame? You're a disappointment."
"My son isn't a disappointment." Seren's voice was sharp and icy, like It could cut through the fog like a blade.
"He is to me." A grin touched the man's lips. "Where's his father?" He glanced around, making a show of searching. "No father? Ahh. Now I see why he is a disappointment."
Seren's jaw tightened.
"A boy who was brought up by a breeding to—"
BAAAM.
He went flying, the sound of his body carving trenches through the earth echoing like a crack of thunder. The crowd flinched back, the air filling with dust and the sharp wet scent of crushed soil.
"Don't speak to my mother or any woman like that." Kaelen's voice was firm and unyielding. He was standing where the man had been a moment before. 'Tsk. That sounded cringe.'
'How is he moving so fast?' Lira's brows creased. 'Is that a space skill?'
"Kaelen." Seren rose and started walking toward him.
"Mom, I'm okay."
"No." Her tone was firm. Her hand found his wrist and wrapped around it tightly. "This isn't okay. Don't do this."
"No man should speak to any lady like that, Mom." His tone was gentle. "Especially not my mother."
She held his gaze. Her hand found his cheek, her palm cool against his skin. "That's sweet." Her voice was gentle now. "I appreciate it. But stop this. The authorities will deal with him."
"Argh. The man sat up, his hand pressing his ribs. "That bastard."
"He won't back down." Kaelen's attention fixed on the man. "Please. Stay with Mel. I will deal with this."
"Kaelen." His mother's hand tightened around his wrist. "Please. Please don't." Her lips pressed hard together. Her eyes struggled to hold his gaze. "Your father—" The words refused to leave her mouth. "Please." Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
His hand wrapped around his mother, pulling her into an embrace. Her body was stiff against him for a moment before she softened, her arms coming up to grip his jacket. "I know I will always be your baby, but I'm no longer a kid, Mom." He pulled away, his hands still on her shoulders. "I will protect you like you always do. Let me do what I have to do."
"Or you could ask the Mel lady…" A smile touched her lips. "She's pretty agile, also."
"Thanks, Mom." Kaelen returned the smile.
"Lira."
Lira was already beside Seren, her arm slipping through her's, pulling her gently to the side.
Kaelen turned his attention to the man. He had finally gotten up, dirt clinging to his coat, his scarred eye narrowed to a slit.
'My first real battle without the system. Let's see how this goes.'
"You're agile, kid." The man smiled. "I'll give you that."
"We don't need to go this far—"
"Who are you to tell me that?" He started walking, closing the distance between them one slow step at a time. His boots pressed into the dirt, leaving deep impressions.
The line began to disperse. People scattered, their fear of getting caught in the exchange outweighing their need to keep their place. Bodies pressed against bodies, feet shuffled, voices rose in complaint and panic.
'The academy really changed you, Kaelen.' The ash-haired boy leaned against a supply crate, his bronze eyes fixed on the two figures in the clearing. 'This is going to be interesting.'
"I hope the boy wins."
"Ah. He's going to get himself killed."
"I pity his dear mother."
Kaelen heard all of it. He paid no attention. 'I knew he would insist on fighting. Let's get this over with.'
He started moving, closing the distance gradually. His boots found solid ground with each step.
"My name is Ivan Kozlov."
"I see no reason why I would need that."
"It's so you can remember the great name that beats you to a pulp."
Kraaak!
The earth beneath Ivan burst apart, stones and dust spraying into the air behind him. He reached Kaelen in an instant, aiming a fist at his face.
Kaelen saw it. Ivan's movement was not only slow but predictable. The increase in perception and agility stats had made a difference, but it wasn't just that. His heightened senses painted the world in vivid details. He could hear the shift in Ivan's posture before it completed. See the muscles tense before the action. Smell the sweat on his skin, sharp and sour.
He dodged. Then dodged again. Each fist passed where his face had been a moment before.
"Are you just going to keep dodging?" Ivan's voice rose sharply. He bent low, swinging his left arm in an upward arc, his elbow bent at ninety degrees.
Kaelen dodged. The air behind the force carried his hair lightly, ruffling the strands. Ivan's momentum carried him forward, but he turned quickly, already resetting.
"Why isn't he fighting?"
"Ha. I told you he was all mouth."
"Fuck! I placed a bet on him."
"You're betting during this chaos?"
The mutters filled the air, pressing in from all sides.
"I know you're frustrated, Mr. Ivan." Kaelen dodged another hit. The fist passed close enough to his cheek that he felt the wind of it.
"Shut your arrogant mouth and let me beat you."
"That won't be possible." He threw a fist at Kaelen's face. Kaelen caught it. His grip was firm, his fingers closing around Ivan's knuckles.
Ivan tried to pull back. His arm strained, but Kaelen's grip didn't give.
"That's enough, Mr.—"
THUMP.
Ivan's free fist drove into Kaelen's face. But Kaelen caught it with his other hand, his fingers closing around Ivan's knuckles just before impact.
"I won't fall for that twice—"
BAAAM.
Kaelen went flying, crashing hard into the earth, dragging trenches through the ground and spraying dirt. The impact jarred up through his bones, his vision wavering.
[—70 H.P]
"What was—"
Before he could finish, Ivan was over him. His fist drove down toward his face.
KRAAAK!
Kaelen rolled aside just in time. The earth where he'd been a second ago now bore a fist‑sized crater, the ground spider‑webbing outward in jagged cracks. The air above it shimmered faintly with heat and crushed dust..
Kaelen came up on one knee, wiping dirt from his mouth. He could see Ivan clearly now. His body that was flesh a moment ago, had turned to full silver chrome, the light that slipped through the fog catching on the metallic surface, gleaming dully. His fingers rubbed the blood trickling from the bridge of his nose, smearing it back toward his forehead. "That's why the headbutt hurt so much?"
"I can forgive you if you bow and drag your body through the mud for forgiveness." Ivan's voice carried confidently.
"This is one-sided."
"Don't say that! He might have something up his sleeves."
"Don't have false hope just because you bet on him."
"Haha. Why would you bet on the boy?"
The mutters continued.
He fell into a fighting stance, his weight balanced, his hands raised. 'I will use you for practice, Ivan.'
"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk." Ivan clicked his tongue. "Even your stance is sloppy. You're pathetic."
...
"Lira." Jay's gaze shifted to Lira before returning to Kaelen. "Isn't it strange Kaelen hasn't used his skills?"
"He has."
"He hasn't." Mel interjected, her voice calm and steady. Her blindfolded face was tilted toward the fight. "There has been no change in his aether signature so far."
Lira's brow creased. "Maybe he's waiting for the right opening."
'Even if he doesn't, he is the type to use aether manipulation freely.' Mel's brow creased slightly.
"Does Kaelen always fight in this manner?" Seren's worried eyes tracked her son, her hands clasped in front of her.
Penelope grabbed her hand, warm and firm. "Be confident, Mrs. Burn. It's Kaelen we're speaking about." A smile played at her lips.
Seren returned the smile, worry easing from her shoulders a little.
'What exactly was that evolution, Kaelen?' Mel's gaze lingered on him, her nostrils flaring lightly as if catching the faint shift in his aether no one else could sense.
...
Ivan's eyes stayed fixed on Kaelen. Neither had moved for a long moment. The crowd had gone quiet, holding their breath, waiting.
Then Ivan took a single step forward. "Let's end this."
KRAAAK.
The earth beneath his feet burst in a spray of dirt and dust. His fist went into a downward arc as he closed the distance.
Kaelen didn't flinch. He moved slightly, dodging the fist aimed for his head. Then he countered—his own fist driving toward Ivan's ribs.
BANG!
Ivan's feet dug deeper into the earth as the punch skidded him sideways. Before he could stop, Kaelen was already there, another fist aimed at his ribs.
Ivan dropped his arms to guard the incoming blow. But he was wrong.
BAAANG!
He felt the impact before he registered what happened. A fist to his face, not his ribs like he thought. He went flying across the distance, skidding through the earth, carving more marks, sending up a curtain of dust and gravel.
"Haa—"
BANG!
Kaelen was over him. His fist drove into his face. Then again. Each hit carried more devastating force than the last. Ivan's head cracked the earth with each impact, the force embedding his head deeper into the ground. His chrome‑hard body scraped against the dirt, trying to get Kaelen off him, but Kaelen's weight was solid, his position locked.
"Get off me!" Ivan roared, coating his chrome fist in silver aether. The air around his hand shimmered faintly, the temperature rising like a small furnace.
BAAAM!
Kaelen went flying, tumbling across the earth, rolling over broken stone and hard soil until his body slid to a stop. The taste of blood and dust filled his mouth, his ribs screamed under the impact.
[–80 H.P]
BAM.
Ivan's fist slammed into Kaelen's body, the crunch barely audible beneath the crowd's gasp.
CRACK!
[–75 H.P]
Kaelen spat out a mouthful of blood. Ivan didn't let up. He drove another punch into his ribs, then one more into his jaw, his knuckles scraping against Kaelen's skin like stone.
"Kaelen!" Seren screamed, trying to run toward him, but Mel caught her by the shoulder, the movement smooth and effortless. The sound of Seren's frantic breath, her pulse pounding in her neck, filled the space between them.
"Stop. Let me—Ah."
Seren's body went limp.
"What did you do to her?" Jay caught Seren's limp body before she hit the ground, her weight sagging into her arms, the scent of her perfume carried faintly beneath the dust and blood.
"I only knocked her out. She will be okay."
"This—aren't you going to say anything, Lira?"
Lira's brow creased. Her eyes were fixed on Kaelen, not minding the chaos beside her. 'What are you doing, Kaelen?'
"Now the roles are reversed."
BAM.
[HP: 600/1,055]
"Arrogant piece of shit."
BAM.
[HP: 524/1,055]
"Pathetic bastard."
"Shouldn't we assist Kaelen?" Seren's unconscious body now lay cradled in Jay's arms, the faint scent of her hair was soft against the acrid stench of soil.
"Mel."
"..."
'Mel," Penelope called, finally noticing that Mel hadn't moved, her voice sharp enough to cut through the noise. "What are you—"
Her voice paused when she saw the faint, almost invisible smile playing at Mel's lips.
"Mel?"
Mel's attention finally shifted to her. She gave a single, small nod, just enough for Penelope to notice. Penelope's gaze snapped back to Kaelen, who was still on the ground, still taking the beating.
...
"Haa… Haa… Haa…" Ivan retreated, his chest expanding and contracting heavily. He stood straight, his chrome fist dripping red liquid where it was covered.
Blood.
"Is the boy okay?"
"Shit! Is he dead?"
"He is dead, right?"
"Tsk. Stupid boy playing hero."
"Is there any other person who wishes to challenge me?" Ivan turned around, his eyes tracking the crowd. Tracking the soldiers who had watched everything and done nothing. "Good. I thought so."
He turned to the teenage girl who had spoken earlier. A grin played at his lips, slow and ugly. "It's your turn."
"How…?"
"I thought he was a goner?"
"Maybe his ability has something to do with healing."
"A healer matching an enhancer's strength? Be real."
"Maybe he's high ranked?"
"A high ranker wouldn't receive that amount of blows before retaliating."
Ivan stopped his stride toward the frightened girl at the sound of the mutters. The crowd's noise pressed against his back, a low, restless hum that felt like accusation and excitement tangled together.
Then he turned.
Kaelen was sitting up. Dirt clung to his face, mixed with blood. His hair was matted on one side. But his eyes were clear.
"How are you—"
Kaelen paid no attention to the mutters. 'I've finally gotten it.' A smile touched his lips, small but genuine. 'All it took was a beating to learn how to do it.'
[–48 A.E]
[+211 H.P]
[HP: 600/1,055]
He had managed to activate the active overdrive mode of health regeneration from the beating he'd received. The wounds across his face were already closing, the torn skin knitting together, the bruises fading from purple to yellow to nothing.
"I will just have to beat you more."
Kaelen's attention shifted to Ivan, who was coming toward him again. He pulled himself up, stretching his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders. His spine cracked. His neck popped.
He wiped the blood from his nose with his sleeve. The bridge was already straight again, the bleeding stopped. A smile touched his lips. 'Thank you, Mr. Ivan.'