-- Part 1 --

The ground shook as another explosion went off in the city. Draven craned his neck around and looked toward the sky. Another plume of dust and smoke slowly rose into the sky, flecks of ember sprinkled amidst the ashes of carnage.

“Stop staring and run,” Draven’s father grabbed him by the arm and dragged him along.

Draven started running again, following after his father, mother, and sister. The city was in chaos; people were screaming, gunfire was constant, and explosions were periodically going off.

His eyes snapped onto something, moving off to his side. A rebel soldier stepped out of an alley. The soldier was male and was holding a sword with both of his hands. He screamed as he ran towards Draven’s father, sword held up above him.

“Dad, look out!” Draven yelled as he sprinted towards Orin. He drew his sword, falling into the combat stance taught at school. Draven squared his legs and slashed down at the rebel’s head.

The rebel dodged left and kicked Draven in the thigh.

Draven grunted. His leg went numb, then went limp. He fell to one knee and stared up at the rebel.

A vicious grin was plastered across the man's face. He then slashed down at Draven.

Metal hit metal, Orin blocking the blade with his sword before it made contact with Draven. Orin grunted, pushing the man’s sword aside, and kicked the man in the chest.

The rebel soldier fell to the ground, gasping for breath and coughing up blood. His chest was caved in from Orin's enhanced strength.

Orin was a master of body supremacy. One of the abilities the technique granted was enhanced strength. He then drove his blade into the man’s skull, ending his suffering. Orin turned around and pulled Draven to his feet, “Can you walk?”

Draven took a few steps. He limped on his right, pain burning through his thigh every time he took a step. “I think he hit a nerve, but I’ll be fine.”

Orin nodded, “Good, let's go. We're almost to the bunker.”

The family of four traveled further into the city. Along the way, others joined them as they neared the bunker. Eventually, a line of people came into Draven's view. The police stood guard around the shelter. They were slowly guiding civilians into the safety of the underground shelter. Orin had Draven’s mother and sister go in before them. At the same time, he and Draven waited outside with the other police officers and protected the civilians being let into the shelter. After all the civilians were filed into the shelter, Draven, Orin, and the rest of the police entered the shelter.

One of the officers pulled down a lever, and the large bolt door of the bunker began to close. Then, the faint sound of yelling reached Draven’s ears. The voice grew louder and louder.

Draven rushed over to his father, “I think someone is still out there.”

“Are you sure?” Orin asked.

Draven nodded, “I can hear them yelling.”

Orin went over to the officer operating the door and got him to stop the door from closing. Draven and Orin then went back outside. Just in front of them, down the street, was a man running toward them and yelling for them to wait for him. Draven and Orin ushered him into the bunker, and then once he was in, the officer manning the door controls closed the door again.

“Thank you,” the man smiled at Orin as he patted him on the shoulder. “I thought I wasn’t going to make it.”

“If you want to thank someone. You should be thankful for my son. He was the one that heard your shouting.”

The man turned towards Draven, “Thank you, young man.” He flashed Draven a bright smile that did not breach the darkness in his eyes. He then continued on into the bunker, going to the center of the structure, and then sat down on his knees. He reached into his jacket and pressed a button, then a blue forcefield manifested around the man. He then pulled out a book, placed it on the ground, and spoke aloud in a strange language.

The adults nearby began to panic, grabbing their kids and running away from the man on the ground. The police around Draven rushed towards the praying man on the ground, their pistols drawn as they fired at the man. Their bullets bounced harmlessly off the man’s forcefield.

“Draven,” Orin grabbed his son from behind and turned him away from the forcefield man. Draven's father had a serious, hard look in his eyes. “Go run over to your mother! Protect her and your sister! Do you understand me!?”

“Yes, sir,” Draven nodded his head.

Orin pushed his son toward his mother. Draven ran and eventually collided with the mass of panicking people. He began to push through, pushing people out of his way as he fought to reach his sister and mother.

The screams intensified as people started yelling about a bomb. Draven turned around, finding the strange man glowing in an ominous red light.

Draven’s father pounded away at the barrier with his fists. Holes began to appear in the barrier from under Orin's enhanced blows. Finally, the forcefield winked out. Orin tackled the man, picked him up, and took off running to the other side of the bunker. The red light emanating from the man began to tear the skin away from Orin's and the man's bodies. Blood began to leak through their flesh.

“Father!” Tears leaked from Draven's eyes as he ran towards Orin. A hand suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. Draven jerked to a stop, finding his mother staring back at him. “Let me go! I have to help Dad!”

She smiled at Draven, “You’re such a brave boy.”

Then the world erupted, and Draven’s eardrums popped. A reddish glow engulfed Draven and then everyone else around him. He screamed in pain as his skin melted away. A blast took him off his feet, slamming him against the ground and knocking him unconscious.

-- Part 2 --

Draven woke up, his brain pounding against his skull as if trying to escape. He stared up at the sky. Stars painted the night sky in beautiful twinkling white, red, and blue specks. He was confused; the last thing he remembered was being in a bunker, not outside. He craned his neck, looking around. Rubble from the bunker and fire surrounded him. A hole in the bunker's roof gave Draven a night sky view.

He focused on his body, but that was a mistake. Pain that he had unconsciously ignored came crashing into his mind. He groaned and looked toward his leg. It was pend under a large block of stone. A large amount of blood had leaked from the limb onto the ground. He grew nauseous, and his vision swam as he tried to focus. His stomach turned in on itself. Turning his head to the side, he vomited. Vomit mixed with blood poured from his mouth. Hot tears sprang from his eyes as he stared at the blood. 'I'm going to die,' he thought to himself.

His mind started racing, and he began to remember. Draven had heard a man crying out, begging not to be left outside. He recalled that he had turned around, studying the man. Draven told his father about the man's cry for help. Orin had the police officer halt the process of closing the bolt door. He then ushered in the man. The man looked normal enough, except for his eyes. His eyes held a darkness that contrasted with the smile on his face. He should have known right then that the man was evil, but instead.

'The bastard dared to smile at me and thank me when he entered,' Draven thought. He wanted to punch that smug bastard's face in, but he was already dead.

The man went to the center of the bunker, got down on both knees and started to pray. A red glow manifested around him. People began to scream and run away from him. Draven's father told Draven to go to his mother and sister.

It all happened so fast that Draven could barely remember all the details.

Orin tackled the praying man, pushing him away from everyone else. The red glow around the man melted Orin's flesh. Draven cried, going after his father, but his mother dragged him away. The last thing he remembered was the man erupting in a red blast.

"Dad," Draven coughed, his throat dry. He meant to yell, but his voice came out as a whisper. Draven cleared his throat and swallowed. "Dad!" He yelled once more and waited for an answer. "DAD!" This one came out louder, mixed with sobs of pain.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Draven put his hands under the stone block, penning his leg. He strained as he tried to lift the block, but it remained in place. He screamed with all his might. Pain, anger, and misery laced into his sobs. He kept yelling and screaming until his voice grew hoarse.

Tired, he finally went silent. He closed his eyes and began to meditate, slowly breathing in and out. His heart rate returned to normal, and his mind started to clear. Draven opened his eyes and searched for something to help free himself. He found his sword an arm's length from him. Reaching out, he grabbed the handle and pulled it towards him. Next, he pulled a large rock towards him and positioned it next to the stone pillar trapping his leg. He dug his sword underneath the stone pillar, using the rock as a pivoting point for a makeshift lever. He pushed down on the handle of his sword, screaming as the stone pillar slowly rose up. He then pulled his leg free. Draven released his sword, and the pillar fell to the ground with a loud bang.

Draven pulled his sword free from underneath the pillar. The blade was bent towards an angle, unusable now. He threw his sword to the ground. Slowly, he stood up, putting more pressure on his injured leg. Draven grimaced as explosive pain shot through his leg as he put more and more weight onto it. He stripped off his ruined shirt and then tied it around the leg wound, slowing the bleeding.

'I need to find Mom and Ana,' he thought. He limped his way through the bunker ruins. The building was getting hotter as the fires spread. He stopped as he caught a glimpse of himself in a broken mirror. His once healthy and vibrant skin had turned sickly pale, and a pair of glowing red eyes stared back at him. Whatever was in the bomb that rebel had detonated had changed him. Draven moved on, finding dead bodies among the ruins. Amongst the bodies was a dead police officer. Draven took his sword and then continued his search for his family.

Eventually, Draven heard his mother's cries for help. He ran, half limping as he rushed over to a pile of stone rubble. Her voice came from underneath it. Draven started digging. Slowly, he unearthed his mother and sister. His mother coughed up a mouth full of blood, multiple metal spikes piercing her stomach.

"Can you stand up? We have to get you to a doctor." He then shook his sister; she was cold. "Come on, Ana, wake up," tears streamed down Draven's face as he shook his sister.

"Draven, stop," his mother grabbed his arm. "She's gone."

"No, she's just sleeping." Draven rubbed the tears from his eyes, "Come on, Ana, stop messing with me and wake up." His voice cracked as he fought to keep himself from falling apart. "I know what will help; I'll be back with a doctor for you and Mom." Draven fought through the pain from his leg as he stood.

"Draven, stop and look at me!"

Draven turned away from his sister and stared into his mother's eyes. She smiled up at him.

"I need you to get out of here," she coughed up another mouth full of blood. "You need to flee the city. It's too dangerous for you to stay here."

'What about you and Ana? I can't just leave you both here." More tears began to stream down Draven's face. He wiped them away with the back of his hand. "You're the only family I have left."

"Draven, look," She pointed to the metal spikes jutting out from her stomach. "I've already lost too much blood. Even if someone manages to get me off these spikes, I'd lose even more." She then looked towards her daughter, brushing her hand along Ana's cold face. "And Ana is gone and in a better place now. And I will be joining her soon. You need to run away and go on and live your life. Do this for me, Ana, and your father." She smiled up at Draven, blood painting her teeth red.

"I can't leave you behind."

"Just go. I will be alright."

Draven took a few painful steps back from his mother and sister, then turned around and ran as fast as he could. The pain from his leg was overshadowed by what he was feeling inside.

-- Part 3 --

It was boiling hot inside the bunker. Flames engulfed the entire structure. Smoke had begun to obscure Draven's vision. It filled his lungs with every breath, causing him to cough. The pain and sadness were gone; in its place was a rage for the rebel who took his family from him. Draven had never felt as whole and complete as he did now. His mind, body, and soul reached an equilibrium; they were one. All three were striving towards one goal: revenge.

His mind, body, and soul broke into the first circle as he arrived at the exit. His mind was clear. He could think faster. The world slowed as his perception of time grew faster. His body felt powerful. He forced the wounds on his body to heal. The injuries on his leg sealing close at a visible rate. Threads of the Weave blinked into existence before Draven's eyes. His soul allowed him to perceive the thousands of Threads connecting everything. The Weave spoke to him, trickling knowledge into his mind that was impossible for him to know.

The exit was blocked by a pile of flaming rubble. Draven dove into the Weave, seeking power. The Weave answered, connecting Draven with the concepts of Swordsmanship, Fire, and Force.

His stance changed, giving off an aura of sharpness and death. The sword in his hand felt like an extension of his limb. Draven quickly went through his sword forms. The Weave whispered corrections to Draven with every strike he made. His attacks became more precise, fast, and deadly. New sword forms entered his mind, increasing the collection of attacks.

Draven noticed the fires beating in rhythm with his heartbeat. He focused on the flames and inhaled. The fires flew towards Draven, absorbing into his body and mouth. He felt invigorated, bursting with energy waiting to be used. With his newfound knowledge from the Weave, he converted the energy from the flames into kinetic force, channeling it into his sword. He then swung his blade at the rubble blocking the exit. The kinetic force coating the blade exploded on impact, blowing away the wreckage and revealing the exit.

Draven stepped out of the bunker into the city. The city was quiet, the opposite of what it had been during the day. All Draven could think about was revenge. He once again entered the Weave. Thousands of Threads blossomed into existence in Draven's vision. He concentrated on the Threads that felt like rebels and then took off toward the closest one.

Draven ran faster than he had ever had before. The first Circle of Body Supremacy enhanced his physique beyond that of a peak human. He converted more of the flames within himself into kinetic force, enhancing his speed even more. His footsteps left holes in the stone blocks. His mind was clear; for the first time, thoughts that were once challenging came to him easily. His ability to react and think was faster.

A speck of orange light caught Draven's attention. As he neared, the speck grew to become a bonfire, and around it were rebel soldiers. Draven saw them drink from cups with smiles, laughing and having a good time celebrating their victory. Draven's anger grew even more at the display of disrespect to his city, to his people, to his family. He sped up beyond what his mind could perceive and created a ball of dense kinetic force around himself. Draven crashed straight into the middle of the encampment, destroying the bonfire in the center. He then detonated the kinetic force field around him. Blowing away the bonfire and soldiers nearby.

Draven screamed, drawing his sword, and charged the first soldier he saw still on their feet. He appeared in front of the soldier in an instant. Before the man could act, Draven cut him in half. The Weave warned Draven of danger, and he constructed a forcefield, blocking a stream of bullet fire. Draven locked onto the soldier firing at him, appearing in front of the soldier with just a few steps. Draven cut off the man's arm, causing his gun to fall away with his arm. The soldier screamed and dropped to his knees. Draven then kicked the man in the head, caving in his head with a kinetic blast.

He continued slaughtering the soldiers one at a time. None of them stood a chance against him. Then, a spike of danger from the Weave, bigger than anything Draven had felt before, bombarded his mind. Something fast had approached him faster than he could run away from it. Draven erected a force barrier around himself. A solid mass slammed into him, threw Draven off his feet, and sent him flying back. He knelt as he landed on the ground.

In front of him was a creature from his nightmares, aHollow. The monster was humanoid, standing over ten feet tall. White bone growths extended from the creature's skin, covering its flesh in thick white biological armor. Behind it, a thick tail swung back and forth even longer than the creature was tall. The monster stood on two digitigrade legs, like those of a cat. It had no eyes; the place where they would have been was covered by smooth bone. It roared, revealing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.

Draven began to recite a meditation mantra, enhancing the connection between his mind, body, and soul. A faint red glow emerged from his body, drifting from him like tiny specks of mist. His eyes shone bright red as he stared down the creature before him.

Draven exploded forth, kinetic force blasting him towards the Hollow. He swung his sword at the creature. The Hollow intercepted his blade with its bone-covered arm. It then clawed him in the side. Draven dodged, the claw of the monster barely scratching him. Fire surged through Draven's veins and out of his hand. A ball of raging flames formed around his arm, and he launched it at the creature.

The fire missile whistled through the air, struck the monster, and exploded. The bone around its chest broke off, revealing black flesh underneath. Almost instantly, the bio-bone armor started to repair itself, growing back to cover the creature's exposed skin.

Draven blurred before the creature, sinking his sword into the monster's chest. The creature roared and tried to claw at Draven. Draven blocked the first swipe with a forcefield-covered arm. He pulled his sword free and distanced himself from the Hollow.

Three rebel soldiers converged onto Draven; each had a sword drawn. Draven reached within himself, searching for more energy. He found his reserves empty. The first of the soldiers, a big man, reached Draven and attacked him with a heavy swing. Draven blocked the blade and then kicked the man in the stomach. Draven then backhanded the man, breaking the guy's jaw.

The last two soldiers attacked as one. Draven parried the first blade, knocking it aside. And then twirled around the sword of the other soldier. He kicked the second soldier in the leg. Bone snapped, and the man went down in screaming. Draven then cut the other one's head off.

The soldier on the ground pulled Draven's feet out from under him. Draven fell to the ground. The soldier then climbed on Draven, trying but failing to pen Draven down. The strength of Body Supremacy proved too great for the man to overcome.

Draven pushed the soldier off him, revealing the razor-sharp tip of the Hollow's tail descending towards his head. Draven dodged, the tail missing his head but piercing his chest. Blood filled Draven's mouth, threatening to drown him. The creature lifted its tail up, taking Draven with it. The Hollowed raised Draven up so that they were face to face. Draven tried to pull himself free, but he was too weak. The creature opened its mouth as it drew Draven in closer. The last bit of rage within Draven went out, and he fell limp, resigned to his fate. He closed his eyes and waited.

Then, warm liquid splashed on him, and Draven fell to the ground. Draven opened his eyes, struggling to stay conscious; standing before him was a man with graying hair. He was dressed in light leather and chain armor, holding a sword painted in blood. But what caught Draven's eye the most was the medallion of the Al'Manti Order hanging around the man's neck. Draven closed his eyes and drifted into the void of sleep.