"Everything alright son? Your sister told me you had a headache. How is it, are you feeling better?.” Hector’s father said looking up from the table, his bottom lip red from the chewing as his fingers continued to tap the table.”
"I'm alright. It’s nothing to worry about.” Hector stepped over to the splintering kitchen table, pulled out a chair and sat down. His sister then bought over a bowl of grim-grain porridge, with flakes of plum sprinkled on it.
The thick grey grim-grain looked as unappetising as ever, but the dried purple plume flakes made up for it. Furthermore, his sister had cooked this with love and it would be an insult if he were to complain—not that he had the heart to, what would that even achieve? Hector picked up the spoon and scooped himself a mouthful, before looking at his father.
"Is everything okay with you, I feel like something's wrong?" Hector said, chewing. The bland taste smothered his tongue with the occasional burst of sweetness—in a way it was a delicacy. . .
Hector's father chuckled. "I'm fine son, but what have I told you about talking with your mouth full.” He said, moving his arms out of the way as Mirae sat a bowl of grime-grain porridge on the table before him.
"Really?” Hector said gesturing with his spoon at his dad's fingers tapping the table. “What's going on Dad?”
The tapping stopped and his father placed a mouthful of porridge into his mouth. “It's fine,” he said, globals of porridge sputtering out of his mouth.
“Dad,” Mirae chided. “Didn't you just say not to speak with a full mouth?” She placed her bowl on the table and grabbed the cloth wiping up the mess their father had made. She—even at her young age—was the mother figure of the family, always cleaning up after Hector and their father.
Mirae was what Hector had assumed their mother would be like. He didn't have many memories of her—the ones he did have were vague and unclear. But those few painted her as caring, and Mirae was exactly that. Even now as she wiped the table, she made sure not to disturb her father's eating.
She looked over at Hector, swiping a strand of white hair behind her ear and gesturing for him to continue questioning him. They needed to find out what was going on, the stubbornness of their father often left them slow to react when things came up—which thankfully didn’t happen often, but it was a problem when it did.
“Dad I—”
A crashing sound came from outside—choking back Hector's words—followed by several shouts. “Cain, you dog waste, get out here now! You owe us and we've come to collect.”
Hector's father shot him a look.“Take your sister and go to your room,” He said stiffly; with a cold face, something Hector had never seen before. His father was always smiling or joking, never was he this serious.
“Dad, what's going on?” Hector said standing up from his seat and moving over to his sister.
“The Collar Gang are outside, get to your room now.”
Hector frowned. The Collar Gang the local thugs of inner-Middlec, what could they want from his dad? A debt? Sure they were poor but their father would never go and ask for money he would always insist on doing everything himself.
Didn't he get a promotion why would he be in debt with someone?
Whatever the reason it didn't matter now. Hector turned to Mirea, her purple eyes were wide with fear and she was frozen. He tugged her, “Let's go.”
She didn't move and simply shook her head. “We can't leave him, Hector. They'll kill him.” She said, tears streaming down her cheek. She grabbed his hand, squeezing it and looking at her father.
“Mirae we have to go, now! Dad will be fine.” Hector said, scooping an arm around her waist, and attempting to pick her up.
She started kicking and screaming, “No, you're wrong, they're going to kill him, Hector. We can't please, Hector.” The bowls on the table were knocked over sending porridge splattering.
“Quiet, girl.”, their father said, looking from Hector to her. “We are just gonna have a small talk. There's nothing to worry about, now go with your brother.”
The muscles in Hector's forehead tightened—what was going on today, why were these two acting like this? The men outside didn't sound like they wanted to talk, they didn't sound like they were keen to see reason, and it sounded like they wanted to hurt someone.
Hector’s father was no slouch when it came to a fight. Hector once saw him fight off two first-level gravity-forging realm beggars—heaven knows how a Mana-cultivator end up like that. But the Collar Gang was nothing like fighting a beggar.
As Hector lifted his sister into the air and began shuffling back, the kitchen door crashed to the ground. There, in the door frame, stood a slim man with a scowl on his face. A large scar ran down his left cheek and he smiled, running a hand through his greasy black hair.
“Boss didn't want to wait, and you'll slow ass was taken too long.” The man stepped to the side allowing for a much larger bold man to step through the door frame.
The man surveyed the room he's gaze landing on Hector briefly before passing over him and focusing on Hector's father. His eyes weren’t friendly. “Cain my friend, is this any way to greet a guest? Not even a cup of water prepared.” He said, smiling, his crooked yellow teeth on display—which spoke of how much mana-infused ale he drank, as everyone in the Collar Gang was a cultivator, providing resistance to the usual decay of mortals.
How strong is this guy?
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///: Acquiring target stats…
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Cultivation level: [Gravity Forging - 4]
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Well, damn. This isn’t good.
“If you'd give me more time, I could have prepared quite the welcome for you, Brulin.” Hector's father said, eyeing the man. He had two fingers behind his back and was gesturing for Hector and his sister to leave.
“Is that a threat?” said a voice. It came from a rat-faced man who walked in, dressed in black rags with a dagger at his side. He had a thick moustache and a bald head much like the large man. “Our boss doesn't take kindly to threats.”
The larger man, Brulin chuckled before walking over to the table and taking a seat. “Come now Briggs, young Cain here would never threaten us,” Brulin said. His smile was that of a predator eyeing its food. “He doesn't have the gall.”
He then glanced at Hector and Mirae, “Are the children joining us? Or is this just between the adults?”
“We’re join—”
Hector's hand slammed over Mirae’s mouth, muffling her screaming as she kicked. But he couldn't let her go. These men were dangerous and didn’t seem worried at all. They seemed to be enjoying what they were doing, not putting Hector in their eyes at all. And they didn’t seem too worried about his father's strength.
Hector’s hand dug into Mirae’s side as he pulled her back towards his room. Swallowing deeply as he fought back the rising bile. Whatever was about to happen he wasn’t strong enough. And to stay, would put his dad in a worse position, he couldn’t keep himself and them safe.
His father mouthed a silent thank you as the two moved back through the hallway towards Hector’s room. The stoic look on his father's face did not give Hector the comfort it should have. He instead looked like a man facing an execution with as much courage as he could master.
Tears streamed down the back of Hector's hand as he and Mirae moved into his bedroom. The tears were fire against his skin. All of this was wrong. He should be out there standing with his father, but he was weak—his training at the dojo meant nothing. He couldn’t compete with them.
He released his sister, dropping her to the floor and slammed the door shut, pressing his back against it. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” He said as his sister dropped to her knees. “ Dad will be fine, I'm sure.”
“He won't,” she said her voice barely a whisper. Tears bounced off the floorboards beneath her as she plunged her face into her palms.
Hector sighed. It didn't make sense why were the Collar Gang here? Did something at the refinery go wrong, did his father take money to pay for things that he needed? did he even work at the Refinery anymore? How could he not know all this, he lived with the man.
Hector pushed off the ground but froze. Through the door shouts rang out, followed by crashing. The sound got more intense as what sounded like chairs were thrown and then several heavy thumps.
Mirae’s weeping intensified as the sound of violence grew. But Hector couldn't find it within himself to go and comfort her. Could he say it would be okay, could he say he would do something? No. Like her, he was in this room unable to go and help the man who had raised them.
Why am I so goddamn weak. If I put more time in the dojo if, I had put more work in none of this would be happening. None of it.
Hector's fists slammed the door, as he lowered back down and wept. He lamented the collar gang. The fear they brought to the people of the slums, and now the pain they brought his family. But as his emotion settled, he realised this was not new. There were evil people on earth, too—he could do nothing about it then. But this time, he could make a difference. He had an advantage.
System, scan her.
It wouldn't help now but knowing, if his sister possessed Talent or not would allow him strategize. He had to get stronger, and he had to make sure the people around him got stronger too.
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///: Talent Found: [Dreams of Time]
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A bubble of confidence grew in Hector's chest. She had a Talent. The name sounded impressive, but It didn’t mean it was. It could be a simple ability that did something small to its holder. But what was important was that she had something.
System, Is it possible to consider a target subjugated If they willingly submit?
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///: “Yes, if the target is willing, the Talent manipulation process can begin.”
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The system's voice rang hollow in his mind as he crawled over to his sister. "Mirae, I need you to listen to me. I need you to relax,” he said, resting a hand on her shoulder—he didn’t know what he was doing, but it was important to take a step...
System, start the talent manipulation process.
The world around Hector melted away like paint washed off a canvas, and he found himself standing in darkness. He looked down to find his feet were submerged in what he could only assume was water. As Hector observed his surroundings, he noticed a red light shooting across the inky black sky. “System, what's going on?”
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///: “This is the Talent Space. A space allowing the user to interact with Talents found within themselves and others they have subjugated. The current Talent manipulation limit is one every 24 hours. There is a chance of failure with unwilling targets, as their soul resists the change.”
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Well, I guess that’s good to know.
“And is that a Talent," Hector said pointing at the shooting lights. There was nothing else in the blackness apart from that—nothing apart from the water that went up to his ankles, that is.
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///: “Yes, that is the Talent [Dreams Of Time]. Would you like to bring it down?”
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"what would happen if I did that?” Hector didn't want to run around doing things willie-nilly if he somehow messed up and harmed his sister he would never be able to forgive himself.
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///: “Bringing it down would allow the user to learn the Talents features and remove it from the target.”
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Hector frowned. “I'd like to bring it closer but not remove it from her, is that possible.”
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///: “Calling down Talent: [Dreams of Time]. Note: Due to not learning the Talent, energy will not be consumed to process it.”
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The red light in the sky paused, then shot down towards Hector. It moved so fast that he had no time to dodge before it was in front of him. A floating red Orb with writing swirling across its surface, which he did not understand. Hector wouldn't consider himself smart, but he had a good grasp of the basic everyday language his father had even taught him to read and write—the reading of writing from earth had become useless—but even with these basic skills for a mana-cultivator, the words made no sense.
Hector reached forward and grabbed the orb, its weight settling in his palms. It was heavier than he’d anticipated, its surface giving off a warm feeling. As he looked into the Orb, he found an understanding of what it was coming to him—it was like the knowledge was always there...
This Talent allowed his sister to see the future, though she could not control what she saw or when it occurred. Furthermore, she was limited to only thirty years maximum—a long time for a mortal.
Hector’s mind thought back to a few years ago. His sister had approached him and said that he shouldn't leave, boys would be looking for him, looking to hurt him. He had scoffed back then. She was barely old enough to leave the house by herself what could she have known about the slums? But she had been right, later that day, some boys had jumped him, beating him badly.
Hector chuckled, releasing the Orb back into the air. He had been a fool then.
The Orb floated back into the air before shooting into the sky and continuing its journey.
She always seemed to have this knowing look whenever she did certain things.
Slide smile tugged on Hector's lips, but then froze, morphing into a snare. She had seemed certain earlier when she said their father was going to die. Had she seen it? Perhaps but then that would mean—
“System bring me back, stop Talent manipulation!” He said, his heart pounding in his chest. The world melted away again and he was back in his room, his hand resting on Mirae’s shoulder. Hector then jumped to his feet and charged out of the room.
“Dad, dad!” he yelled, his voice horse.