The incandescent blazing light above us that we recognize as the “Sun” has been there since the beginning of time, and even when you cannot see it, it is there, watching you, judging your every step, and no one can escape its blinding gaze. The sun has been witness to the destruction of many planets and the formation of many more; the rise of civilizations as well as their fall; the breath of new life upon the flowers of the new world as well as the withering of the trees and the sighs of death at the end of days; and as such, never once did it stop gazing upon the hooded figure riding through the sands that compose this vast desert of a planet.
This young man who is wearing a mask that covers his entire face, a cloak hiding his identity, and a pendant composed of a single irregularly shaped blue crystal, slides through the sands with the help of a certain… “creature”, you could say: A massive morse that moves through the sand like a dolphin would through the oceans of three thousand years ago. Strap with a rope to a trash can lid, the hooded man rides (or rather, slides with) the morse through the endless dunes. His destination? A gigantic black wall of about 40 meters tall with red designs all over it extended over a terrain of dozens of kilometers far and wide. But what interested him was not the wall itself but what lay right behind it: A city, no, a nation, perhaps the greatest nation known to mankind which is associated with the name of the “Capital”. A nation separated into three cities of different elevations each, where the higher the city the greater the social status. A nation where the ones at the top live in praise while the ones at the bottom die in shame, where the ones at the top celebrate being alive for another year while those at the bottom suffer the burdens of living for another day, where abuse and lust and misery and opportunity and hope and glamour and order and chaos all run around freely across the hundreds of streets and buildings that compose this nation… Yes, this is the place the Hooded Man desires to reach.
The only thing standing between him and the city was, ironically, the thing chasing him from behind.
For the past hour or so the Hooded Man has been on the run from a great beast that could only be described as a gigantic snake, perhaps about the size of that great wall if it ever were to stand upright. Its skin is red and gray in color and thick in density, and its scales are as sharp as blades. Its sharp teeth and threatening eyes claim the flesh of the Hooded Man, perhaps the first sight of a decent meal it has seen in the past decade or so. These types of beasts are just one of the many reasons why people never leave the Capital or any of the cities, not that there is any real reason to do so in the first place. Inside there’s safety, out here there’s death. But the Hooded Man remains unfazed by the imminent threat right before him; in fact, if you were to look behind the mask, you could see a smile forming on his face.
“Almost there… just a bit more, my friend,” he whispers to the morse, who in response accelerates the pace.
To avoid the bite of the Great Serpent, the Hooded Man would zig-zag left and right, do turns around dunes and oases, perform every trick possible to avoid the constant attacks and get closer to the city. But right now the Hooded Man finds himself right at the Capital’s territory, where the massive piles of sand become plains from where everyone looking below at this moment would notice the spectacle taking place. Luckily for him, he had just come at midday, when most soldiers head over to lunch and the remainder just sits there idling around. Not so lucky was the fact that there is nowhere to run or hide, and the Great Serpent is approaching each second at a much faster pace.
And yet the man remains unfazed.
The Great Serpent, having its prey just centimeters away, was about to lunge forward when the Hooded Man shouts: “To the right!” as he drives the morse to the right, allowing it to get out of harm’s way. But instead of following alongside the morse, the Hooded Man suddenly jumps off the trash can lid and falls right on top of the beast, nailing his knife to its thick skin which, surprisingly enough, gave no fight to the sharp blade that sliced through it like butter. He holds onto the knife tightly, clinging to the snake’s back as if his life depended on it – which is the case. The morse slides away from the battle, getting lost in the sea of sand.
“Cya!” waves the Hooded Man to his dear companion.
The beast writhes in pain and shakes violently to send flying the young man, even sometimes delving into the sand to then leap back up in fury.
And yet the man remains unfazed.
With every moment that goes by, the wall comes closer and closer, and the Hooded Man realizes that his little snake riding might be coming to an end soon. When just about 100 meters away from the wall, the Hooded Man stood up, and without warning began running up the serpent’s body, moving towards its face. The Great Snake, seeing its opportunity, delves into the sand once more, forcing the Hooded Man to reach out for his knife and return to his original position. This time, however, the snake seemed to be going deeper and deeper, almost as if trying to dig a tunnel to the center of the earth. Just as the man begins wondering when it would stop, however, the snake turns around and rushes towards the surface at hellish speed, almost making him drop off a few times and burying him under the endless sand. The creature resurfaces and leaps hundreds of feet into the air and aims towards the Capital, finally catching the attention of the few unaware soldiers that were “guarding” the wall and are now running around and shaking in fear as it becomes apparent how unprepared they were for such a situation. The snake very soon would be crashing against the city, destroying hundreds of buildings, perhaps crushing the Hooded Man in the process as well as the entirety of the city’s population.
And yet the man remains unfazed.
“ACTIVATE THE DEFENSE MECHANISMS, NOW!” On top of the wall, a man who looks like a commander of sorts howls at his soldiers, who immediately rush toward two buildings on the left and right sides of this segment of the wall, presumably where the commands that would activate the defense mechanisms on this section are.
Attention had been diverted towards the snake and the switches, and no one noticed the figure taking a free ride on the back of the snake.
“Okay, it’s now or never!” The Hooded Man resumes his original plan and rushes toward the snake’s head.
Sounds of machinery clicking and turning can be heard coming from the wall’s direction. This was his last chance. If he doesn’t make it then, worst case scenario, these past 7 months of walking through the desert would’ve proven completely worthless. The snake tries to shake the little cloaked pest off as best as possible in the middle of the air but is incapable of doing so. On top of the head, the Hooded Man slides down between the eyes and, just as he’s about to jump off its nose, the blue crystal on his neck begins glowing, and immediately afterward-
A flickering sound is heard.
Blue flames.
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Suddenly, blue flames began gathering around the man’s right foot, each moment getting harsher, hotter, stronger. Ignoring this occurrence, the Hooded Man leaps off the Great Serpent’s nose at blazingly high speeds, flipping and turning in the air while also leaving a trail of fire behind that dazes and blinds the serpent momentarily. Just at that moment, the forcefield begins forming and the Hooded Man, at the speed he’s flying through the air, barely manages to get through, and in his fall he crashes against the rooftop of a seemingly old abandoned building, bringing the attention of a soldier who was guarding the inside of the wall: the only man who noticed his presence. As for the snake, it crashed against the forcefield, fell to the ground, and dove into it to escape the scenario as fear of death flooded over it.
And yet the man remains unfazed.
When the soldier enters the building, he realizes it’s actually an old bar and that it’s still functioning, as apparent by the silent barman currently cleaning the cups and glasses, paying no attention neither to him nor to the destruction that the Hooded Man’s descent has brought upon his establishment.
“Ugh, talk about rough landings…” the Hooded Man murmurs as he rubs his back to alleviate the pain, then immediately checks on his pendant. The crystal has stopped shining, but other than that it seems fine. His knife, however, fell off his hand during the jump, so his only mechanism of defense is the weird flames that came over him a moment ago.
“Hey!” the soldier yells in the man’s direction. He takes a gun out of his pocket, a futuristic-looking black revolver with red designs just like the ones on the walls, and aims it at the Hooded Man, who raises both his hands without a second thought. “What’s all this ruckus about? Identify yourself!”
“Alright, alright! No need to get so spooked out, ‘kay?" The Hooded man stands up and lets his cap fall off, revealing a bush of blonde curly hair underneath. He does not attempt to remove his mask. “As you can clearly tell, this is a bar, and I’m here to take a few shots. Want some too? I insist!”
“You aren’t fooling no one here, kid. I saw you falling from the wall’s direction when the snake crashed against it, and you fell against the rooftop of this building. Whoever you are or whatever you want, one thing’s for sure: you’re coming with me.”
“Ehhh, I appreciate the offer buuuuuuuuuut I got things to do so, if you excuse me,” The Hooded Man whistles a soft tune as he makes his way to the door before being stopped by a cold hand on his right shoulder and a gun barrel on his left cheek.
“I don’t think you understand your position here,” the soldier’s voice became graver and menacing, his grip tighter. “You. Are. Coming. With. Me.”
To this, the Hooded Man simply rests his left hand on the hand that’s touching his shoulder. The soldier jumps a bit at the sudden feeling of warmth. Very, very warm.
“Sorry, man,” now it is the Hooded Man the one getting serious. “That’s not going to happen.”
Sweat builds up in the soldier’s hand as it begins trembling, and he loosens his grip on both the gun and the shoulder. Without thinking about it any further, the soldier pulls the trigger that would’ve blown the man’s head into pieces had he not used the soldier’s moment of doubt to duck away, creating a brand new hole in the wall. The Hooded Man runs and dives around the place, dodging laser after laser then flipping a table and using it as cover.
“Hey, if you changed your mind, I can still get you that drink y’know? No harsh feelings!”
“Shut up and get over here!” The soldier becomes desperate as his laser shots pierce through the entire building in an attempt to hit this agile, mysterious criminal. After hearing such words, the Hooded Man stands there in the middle of the bar in a menacing stance that brings shivers down the soldier’s spine. Even with the mask on you could tell the wicked smile forming on his face,
“If you insist~” The soldier didn’t even have time to react; one second the man was in the middle of the room, the next he was standing mere centimeters away from his face, so stunned he was that he even dropped his gun by accident. Putting himself in a defensive position, the soldier throws a left hook right to the Hooded Man’s face and it hits him with full force. But, as it has been clearly seen throughout this story with every single dangerous situation he has faced…
The man.
Remains.
Unfazed.
He takes the full blow without moving an inch, not even flinching. At this point, the soldier’s fear has reached its climax. The corners of the man's mask dug deep into the soldier’s knuckles, making them bleed.
A slow, soft hand touches the soldier’s chest.
A blue handprint is left where the hand once laid.
The Hooded Man walks backward, away from the soldier who is currently too stunned to speak.
He raises his hand and puts his fingers in a snapping position.
He asserts, his masked face twisting into a wicked grin:
“Say, do you understand your position here?”
With a snap of his fingers, the blue handprint on the soldier’s chest begins glowing brighter and brighter, then causes a strong blue explosion contained enough so that it only affects the soldier. The soldier is sent backward due to the force of the explosion and knocks his head on the wall, causing him to bleed and pass out.
“Now, for the final act…”
Searching around, he finds a steak knife right underneath some of the debris from the battle, as well as his bag. Out of the bag, he takes out a small containment plastic bag, and with both knife and plastic bag in hand, he makes his way toward the soldier. He kneels before him and removes his helmet, revealing his face. “Such a young soldier,” he thought. “And handsome, too. Shame to have to ruin such a nice face, but I bet he will be alright. After all…
You can still live well without an eye.”
With the product in his bag, the Hooded Man walks toward the barman who has silently watched this whole scene unfold without even moving an inch. For the first time since the Hooded Man fell inside, the barman raises his head to meet his bar’s perpetrator. And, to all that he has seen today, there’s only one thing he has to say:
“I hope you’re ready to pay for all this.”
“Hehe, I will, I promise! There are many things around here that I need to check out first, and I got a feeling those things will eventually lead me back around here. But I promise I’ll repay you!”
The barman glances at the watch on the Hooded Man’s wrist, noticing the number in the top left corner.
“You already got some money. Why don’t you start by paying me that amount.”
The Hooded Man smiles under his mask, this time a playful, jokingly smile. “Please, I can’t do that! If I do, what will I use to pay for the next couple of drinks!?”
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