John's shoes grated noisily against the dusty floor as he skidded to a stop. As he did, his eyes scanned the armed group standing before him while bringing his arms up into a defensive posture and circulating his essence gather over his vitals.

Trying to catch his breath, John realised he was only around a meter and a half from them, well within striking distance of many spells or abilities. As if they felt the same, the five people who had flinched upon noticing his arrival and raised their weapons took a step back before taking various protective postures. While the increase in distance was negligible, and John wouldn't have minded retreating a bit as well, he believed that he couldn't show weakness. Especially as he was outnumbered and outgunned.

John's right eyebrow twitched slightly, noticing that the stances the group took all enabled them to attack or defend in an efficient, clinical manner. Even the way they held the cold weapons seemed more trained than instinctual or learned through experience. "Were they banished, like me?"

After attempting to gauge the skill level by their postures, John's eyes moved from the cold weapons to the leader's rifle. While it wasn't directly pointed at him, probably because the leader knew it would force John into a corner, it would only take a gentle nudge in the right direction. Faintly glowing runic markings, gold and red, flickered showing that while the essence weapon wasn't in the best condition, it was still in working order. It also hinted that the man's main attributes were light, like John's, and fire. An almost ideal combination in the backing wasteland.

"Fuck. Where the hell did these guys come from?" John was still reeling from the shock caused by their sudden appearance. And by the five humanoids ridged body language, they seemed to feel the same way. However, even though he was trying to work out what to do next, John's face didn't display any confusion. Instead, the hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

While they had only been checking each other out for a couple of seconds, John had got his breathing and heart rate under control as he slowly moved his gaze to stare into the black lenses of their sand-coloured masks. As he did, he slightly lowered his posture.

Apart from the sounds of a few creatures fleeing in the surrounding streets and buildings, the road became silent. The only movement was the hot breeze that blew through the wreckage, shifting a small amount of the orangey-yellow sand into the air or rustling along the ground.

"So. What's it going to be?" As John and the group stared at each other, he couldn't help but speak. His voice was dry and husky, seeming intimidating yet slightly charming at the same time.

It was apparent that both didn't want to make the first move, not knowing the strength of their opponent, but he felt like he was running out of time. The sensation of dread that he had momentarily forgotten after the initial wave of adrenaline and essence poured into his body was slowly rising once again.

"Fight, or flight?" After not getting a response, even though he tried to keep it from his face, a scowl slowly started to form on John's face. He didn't want to go back, to be surrounded by the Void Lords. At the same time, if he tried to skirt the group, due to the terrain, he would be vulnerable to a sneak attack. Also, he knew from experience, especially with the corridor like space they were in, getting close and personal might be his best bet to stagger their attacks and avoid the rifles range.

"Damn It." John's eyes returned to the rifle which he felt, excluding any skills, spells or abilities the group had hidden, was the most significant threat. With its power, the cover, including the thick building walls, would be pointless. However, while there was a sliver of fear, John also felt a small amount of greed. If he could get in close and take the rifle, his battle strength would rise significantly.

"What the fuck am I thinking? I need to be getting out of here, not trying to pick a fight with a group of unknowns." John felt the urge to shake his head but resisted. Instead, he continued to let his line of sight slowly scan the group in what he hoped was him making eye contact with each individual behind the masks. At the same time, he was watching for any sudden movements or tells that would indicate they were about to attack. "OK, how do I defuse this sitch-."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

["Forget it. We need to go. Something had stirred the hornet's nest."]

John's mind blanked upon hearing the leader speak in a foreign language. At the same time, the man lowered his rifle and motioned his comrades to stand down. It wasn't that the man had talked that shocked John, or that he showed signs of backing down but that he had spoken in the holy language of the hero, Falk.

While it wasn't impossible to learn or restricted, the languages of the heroes were something that was only commonly used on the sanctum worlds of the eight heroes. Each one had their own style and various dialects, becoming something of a way to honour and respect their chosen.

John wasn't fluent in Falknir, Falk's language, but knew a bit of it because as a child he had often travelled with Eos to the other heroes' sanctuaries. "Are they from a sanctuary world like me or..."

John's eyes narrowed. "On a mission?"

Seemingly without waiting for John to respond, maybe thinking that he wouldn't understand them, the group took a final glance at John before abruptly turning and sprinting to the other side of the road. After kicking in a flimsy metal door, one of the few that had remained in somewhat good condition, they vanished inside a semi collapsed building.

"What the..." After seeing this, John was halfway though vocally expressing his confusion as the rumbling roar of the male Void Lord repeated to his left. Compared to the first set of bellows, it appeared much closer. Not only that but for a strange, obscure reason, John felt as if sounded somewhat annoyed and frustrated.

Before he could even react, John felt a sudden pressure press down on his body as he experienced a bout of dizziness. A small trickle of wetness flowed from his right ear as he suffered a ringing sensation as if he had been standing next to an explosion.

By the time John had regained his witts, he was shocked to find that he had fallen against the nearby wall. The hot, rough surface pressing against his forehead as he attempted to stabilise himself. "Soul pressure. How can it be this powerful?"

Pushing himself away from the wall and staggering slightly before being able to stabilise himself, John took a deep breath.

"Move." Releasing a small grunt, John started to stumble forward. At the start, it seemed that he would fall to the ground at any moment, yet it wasn't long before his fluid movements started to return.

A loud explosion came from somewhere behind him, felt more than heard. "Too close. Need to get some distance."

As the ringing in his ears began to fade, John glanced over his shoulder. A rumbling sound came from behind him to his left, sounding like the collapse of a building. The ground continued to shake as sand and dust erupted past the buildings blocking his sight and into the clear blue sky. Moments later, beast-like cries and humanoid screams erupted, coming from the same direction the group John had just met appeared.

While he felt the blood-chilling sounds were horrific, they ended all too quickly for John's liking. "Not good."

Remembering that the armoured group had come from that direction and the many strange things, John felt the coincidence was too much. "Did they piss it off, or is whatever was in those bags attracting it?"

Pushing the unanswerable thoughts from his mind, John quickly continued onwards as he weaved through the rubble and wreckages. A small part of him hoped that he wasn't the target and the group had somehow angered, then escaped, a Void Lord. However, deep down, he had a nagging feeling that kept telling him that wasn't the case.

However, ever since running into the group, John had become a lot more cautious. Every time he paused behind cover and checked his surroundings, the hilt of the essence sword kept swapping hands and positions, often going between a forward and reverse grip as if he couldn't make his mind up.

On the horizon, beyond the heaps of metal and ruins, John felt as if he could see a sliver of orangy-yellow sand between the two rows of buildings. While it was still quite a distance away, John felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

After he had crossed two intersections, the sight became more apparent and defined, further raising his spirits. He was even able to guess that he had around nine more blocks to go until he reached the edges of the town.

However, as he started to plan what he would do when he reached his first destination, another roar erupted from John's back left.

Unlike before where he quickly shook off the effects, this time, his vision went black for a second as the bones in his chest felt as if they were violently vibrating. At the same time, John was forced to swallow back his acid reflux as a wave of nausea almost caused him to vomit.

Even though he tried hard not to, John was forced down onto one knee as he took deep breaths. In the end, he placed his left hand on the ground in an attempt to stop himself toppling over.

"Don't. You. Dare. Pass. Out."