Am I gonna survive? The question in the back of Zabo’s mind continued to scream out, but he forced himself to ignore it. Instead, focusing on stabilizing his footing as he sprinted across the rooftops. His feet pounded against the concrete with every desperate stride. The sun was setting, casting long shadows that kept him concealed. But was it enough?

With every leap, the gap between each building felt wider and wider. He felt tired, weak, and defeated. His muscles screamed in protest, exhaustion clawing at him, but he pushed forward, driven by sheer willpower and the primal instinct to survive. He knew he was running on empty. The last of his aura reserves expended on a lost fight against Noah Voltaire, the rising star in the world of hunters. He didn’t stand a chance.

Now, with no aura left to bolster his strength or sharpen his senses, Zabo was just another pathetic dud. The way his body swayed as he ran was a constant reminder of his mortality. The Zabo that had once taken out Noah’s five grunts was now just an empty husk. A husk that desperately screamed for survival.

He could only lament his laziness in training and his lack of drive. His master had always urged him to cultivate his aura, to expand it, to tap into the deeper wells of power that lay within him. But the lack of excitement in it all caused him to slack off. He’d often make excuses that aurasphere cultivation was too slow. That his speed and agility could allow him to end fights with a blink of an eye. I hate battles of attrition.

Regret gnawed at him. If only he had listened to Master Mourning. If only he had pushed himself harder, maybe he wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe he would have the strength to face Noah Voltaire head-on. But there was no time to dwell on the what-ifs. He was alive, and as long as he kept moving, there was a chance, a slim one, but a chance nonetheless, that he might escape. Maybe he’ll go for the two girls instead. Ugh then everything I did was for nothing.

He landed on the next rooftop, and his thoughts were abruptly cut short when he saw that something, no, someone, was blocking his path. Zabo’s head, previously lowered and fixated on his feet, rose slowly. The figure was tall, wrapped in a blue long coat with white trimmings.

Noah Voltaire stood there, waiting for him.

Noah’s presence was like a cold shock to Zabo’s system. Sporadic flashes of lightning illuminated the man’s figure, and his expression held a calm amusement, as if this chase was nothing more than a game to him. Zabo screamed at his body to change direction. Before even making any distance, Noah raised his hand, and a bolt of electricity shot out from his fingertips. The lightning struck him mid-leap, the searing pain shooting through his body and killing all momentum. The force of the impact sent him plummeting off the edge of the building.

Time seemed to slow as he fell, the ground rushing up to meet him. He crashed down onto the pavement of an empty side road; the impact jarring every bone in his body. Pain exploded in his limbs, and for a moment, everything went white. When the pain subsided, he lay on his back, paralyzed and unable to move. His body felt leaden, every nerve ending tingling with residual electricity.

“How… how could you be so fast?” Zabo croaked, his voice barely audible over the ringing in his ears. He struggled to lift his head, his vision blurry as he tried to focus on the figure approaching him.

Noah’s smile was one of pure satisfaction. “You didn’t know?” he said with a mocking tilt of his head. “I’m lightnings incarnate.”

The casual arrogance in Noah’s tone was infuriating, but he was too weak to do anything about it. All he could do was watch as Noah sauntered closer, his boots clicking softly against the pavement. When he was close enough, Noah clicked his fingers, and another bolt of lightning struck him square in the chest.

The pain was excruciating, like being stabbed with a thousand white-hot needles. His back arched involuntarily as the electricity coursed through him, his muscles seizing up, but the strange thing was, he remained conscious. He was still alive.

“It’s okay,” Noah said, his voice almost soothing. “You can’t die from these. At least, not yet.”

The cold assurance in Noah’s voice sent a wave of despair crashing over Zabo. This was it. This was how he was going to die, slowly, painfully, at the hands of a sadistic bastard who enjoyed playing with his prey. He could barely breathe, the effort of drawing in each breath a monumental task. The smell of burnt flesh filled his nostrils, a sickening reminder of the damage already done to his body.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Please… please…” Zabo gasped, his voice trembling as he reached out with a trembling hand, touching Noah’s boots in a gesture of submission.

Noah’s smile widened, pleased with the apparent display of surrender. “Are you ready to beg for mercy?” he asked, his tone laced with condescension.

His eyes narrowed, and with the last of his strength, he gritted his teeth. “Please… kill me already, you inbred fuck.”

The words hung in the air, shocking Noah into silence. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the storm overhead, the wind howling through the deserted streets. Then Noah’s expression twisted in fury.

“You filthy rat!” he snarled, his previous amusement gone. His eyes glowed with an intense, dangerous light as he summoned another bolt of lightning, this one more powerful than the last. The energy crackled in the air, but instead of striking Zabo, it coiled around Noah’s outstretched hand, the electricity solidifying and shaping itself into a deadly spear of pure energy.

Zabo watched, helpless, as Noah picked him up by the collar, lifting him off the ground with ease. “It’s too easy with you lying on the ground,” Noah spat. And with that, he hurled him into the air, sending him flying several feet above the ground.

For a split second, everything seemed to slow down again. he felt weightless, suspended in the air, his body broken and burning with pain. He knew what was coming next, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He could only watch as Noah drew back his arm and threw another lightning infused javelin.

The bolt of energy darted through the air, spinning as it stretched toward Zabo. He barely had time to brace himself before it struck, the spear piercing through the right side of his abdomen with a searing burst of pain. The force of the impact sent him spiraling back down to the ground, where he landed with a sickening thud.

Zabo lay there, his body twitching uncontrollably as the pain radiated from the wound in his side. He could feel the burn, the electricity still coursing through his veins, eating away at him from the inside. His vision blurred with tears, and for a moment, he thought this was it. His body would finally give out, and he would find the peace he so desperately craved.

But death did not come. Instead, Noah stood over him, his expression one of cold, detached curiosity. “I give you credit,” Noah said, his tone almost conversational. “You were stronger than you looked. But I didn’t even show you half of what I could do, and now look at you, struggling to breathe. How cute.”

His chest heaved as he tried to draw in air, each breath a struggle against the overwhelming pain. His mind was foggy, the world around him fading in and out of focus. But through the haze, he could still hear Noah’s voice, taunting him, mocking him.

The man crouched down beside him, leaning in close so that Zabo could see the distant gleam in his eyes. “But you know,” Noah continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, “in all my life, I’ve never seen something like you. I wonder what you are.”

Zabo tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. His body was shutting down, his vision dimming as the darkness closed in around him. Noah’s voice grew distant, fading into the background as his consciousness slipped away. But before he could fully succumb to the darkness, Noah’s voice cut through the fog once more, cold and sharp as a knife.

“It’s a shame, really.” Noah sneered, as he tended to his fingernails. “All that running, all that fighting, and for what? You think you’ve saved anyone? You think you’ve protected that little girl? Listen here, rat, I put a tracker on her. I can find her whenever I want. This little game of yours would never change that.”

The words struck him harder than any physical blow. He tried to process what Noah was saying, but his mind was sluggish, clouded by pain and exhaustion. A tracker on Mia? How? When? His thoughts scrambled, desperately searching for an answer, for some way to make sense of this nightmare. But the realization hit him like a hammer. Noah had been ahead of him the entire time. Everything he had done, every effort he had made to protect her, had been for nothing.

“You see, young man,” Noah continued, his tone almost pitying now, “you’ve accomplished nothing. All you did was delay the inevitable. I’ll get to her whenever I please, and there’s nothing you, or anyone else, can do to stop me.”

Zabo’s vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes, mixing with the blood and grime on his face. His body trembled with the weight of his failure. He had fought so hard, risked everything to keep that little girl safe, only to learn that his efforts had been in vain. The girl he had sworn to protect was still in danger, and there was nothing he could do about it. Was choosing to put his life on the line for people he didn’t know the right call?

For a moment, he felt something deep within him shatter. He had always believed that he could make a difference, that he could protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. He had dared to hope that he could be the Messiah his people needed, the one who could lead them to safety, to freedom. But now, as he lay broken and defeated on the cold pavement, all of those hopes seemed foolish, naïve.

“Master… I’m sorry,” Zabo whispered, his thoughts a jumbled mess of regret and despair. “I got into this mess… the last Scion wasn’t me… I couldn’t save anyone…”

Noah’s voice, now distant and echoing, continued to mock him, but Zabo was barely aware of it. His consciousness was slipping away, the world around him fading into a void of blackness. The last thing he heard before everything went dark was the sound of Noah’s laughter, cruel and victorious, ringing through the empty streets like a death knell.

And then there was nothing.