Ryan had always been strong. And he had always known right from wrong.

His mother loved to tell one story to any guest that came into her home. When Ryan was five, his little brother had been taken by cultists. There were many fringe religions around the continent, and they were the people mainly tracked down by the order of knights.

These cultists believed in the god Misery, and thus caused misery everywhere they went. Their only goal in life was to make everyone around them as miserable as possible. They had a real penchant for stealing babies though.

Ryan had been outside playing with his baby brother when the cultists struck. They stole his baby brother and nearly beat Ryan to death.

On the edge of Death, Ryan dragged himself back into the house where he told his mother and father about what had happened. His mother always described that part with him crying righteously; “tears of rage spilled down his face” was her favorite way of putting it.

But Ryan at that time just felt cold. He had failed at something and that was something he could not abide. His mother used her healing gift to bring him back to his feet as his father gathered up the men of the village to go and round up these ruffians.

Ryan followed along behind them, stealing a knife from his mother’s kitchen.

As the men of the village approached the cultists, Ryan hid in the bushes, following them closely. The cultists had a massive bonfire going and appeared to be slowly lowering Ryan’s baby brother into the flames. It was slow, to prolong the misery of the baby.

The wails were weak and immensely sad.

The men didn’t know what to do, so they charged the encampment, hoping to stop the cultists from burning the baby to death. But Ryan hiding in the bushed focused on his failure. He had failed his brother, and he refused to fail him again.

He slowly approached the camp and made his way to the roaring bonfire. Only one of the cultists had stayed behind, and he was preparing to throw the baby into the flames as a last-ditch effort.

In his mother’s words, “Ryan heroically threw her favorite knife through the wicked man’s heart causing him to perish.”

He even more heroically leapt into the flames to catch his baby brother.

Once the men had finally vanquished the cultists they came to the bonfire where they saw Ryan cradling his baby brother, both covered in massive burns.

Ryan’s hair had been singed off, and he made a vow that day, to never cut his hair unless he lost again.

A few years later, Ryan awakened his gift from Gluttony. It was a bit odd, but the ability to store anything he put in his mouth had turned out to be incredibly useful.

That was the start of Ryan’s incredible career of being a hero. He joined the knights and gained notoriety, eventually becoming the shining star of his generation.

He was the man of myth and legend; songs were sung of his deeds, and he was ready to rock.

All his deeds, all his power had led him here to this moment. His karma sang as he stood in the arena waiting for the battle to begin.

Once the bell rang, he could feel his competitors’ eyes turning towards him. They all wanted a piece of his action, and he would give it to him.

The air thrummed as tens of gifts started being used at once. Ryan let his challengers approach, then let out a gout of flames from his mouth.

A blacksmith from a small village he had saved from a serial killer had given him the idea of storing non-physical objects in his mouth. Fire wasn’t really something a person could hold, but his gift somehow conceptually consumed the flames and allowed him to release it at will. This idea had allowed him to store all sorts of unique things, but those would be saved for the later rounds of this tournament, no need to waste his trump cards on these weaklings.

After the initial exchange his dumbest challengers had been fried, and the medics had come in to save them. His more intelligent foes had backed off taking this time to observe how he reacted to his enemies. Those were the ones to worry about.

In the reprieve Ryan heard a voice speak in his head.

“Infection. Do any of you need the rules explained to you?”

Ryan had two guesses about what had happened. Either someone had a gift related to auditory hallucinations and was using it very poorly or this was someone’s trigger. As someone with a unique gift, Ryan knew that some gifts required some unique conditions to activate. The gods were fickle in their gifts, and some required some eccentric conditions to activate.

In the hopes that it was the latter Ryan said, “yes.”

The voice sighed and coughed a bit as it seemed to catch itself. “Infection is similar to tag, except everyone is ‘it.’ For every person that is tagged by you, your strength will increase by a linear amount. For those of you listening with underdeveloped brains, the more people you touch the stronger you get.”

Since the rules were explained in Ryan’s head, he felt a bit more confident that this was some gifts trigger condition. Maybe it was a gift from Honor or Fairness, and it allowed the user to gain strength but only if their enemies were also given that opportunity.

Ryan felt that his game plan didn’t change much with the addition of the infection game. He would tag people if the situation allowed it, but he was a skirmisher at heart, using his unique abilities to keep people far away. No one liked to have their hair burnt off.

But Ryan felt that it would be prudent to check how strong his competition could grow to be. So, he sidled up to one of his incapacitated competitors and tapped him on the shoulder.

Instantly he felt a small increase in his personal strength. It was a respectable amount, but meaningless in the end. Ryan felt he could comfortably carry two men and a baby without truly putting in any effort, after getting this increase he felt that he could change that baby into a small toddler.

It was not something that he had to worry about, this gift would not allow anyone to tag him and suddenly gain the power of a god.

Unbothered, Ryan went back to smiting his foes with ruthless zeal. He had a large store of flames kept within his gift, so he felt that using it so recklessly was within the allowed usage for this round.

He even noticed a few people running around trying to tag other people in the arena. But none of them seemed to be particularly successful. No one was foolish enough to just let anyone touch them, so they were targeted by large numbers of people and promptly taken care of.

As Ryan took care of another person who was attempting to tag people, he noticed a figure standing near the edge of the arena. He didn’t wear the usual armor of one of the knights, instead he had a fashionable little hat on the top of his head.

The reason that the man drew Ryan’s eye was because he was standing near the exit where the medics had to pass through, and he seemed to be lightly touching the medics and the injured competition as they passed him by.

That felt cheap to Ryan. It was not honorable nor was it skillful, instead it was taking advantage of everyone else’s work. No matter how clever the strategy seemed to be it was in opposition to Ryan’s personal code of conduct.

So, he charged the man.

Ryan didn’t bother with using his gift, nor his stores of flames. If someone was weak enough to try and game the system to take advantage of this gift, they weren’t deserving of his full might.

The man looked surprised that Ryan had noticed him and went to meet him.

The two spoke in the only language that Ryan truly understood, through their fists.

Ryan used impeccably placed strikes to take his opponent off balance. Using his superior physique to bully the smaller, weaker man into submission.

But the smaller man had tagged quite a few people by now and his strength was almost a match to Ryan’s. But he used the strength in unique ways. His movement became a lot more erratic as he used the gifted power to do gymnastics and parkour around the physically superior man.

It was fascinating to Ryan. He had assumed that the physical increase from the game could only be used to make his attacks stronger. He assumed that only his offense would be enhanced by the strength given from tagging people. But this man used the strength to make himself elusive.

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Ryan took a risk and tried to grab the faster man, hoping to get rid of his speed advantage. His fingers brushed the man’s top hat but didn’t quite get a grip on him. In retribution, his opponent was able to tag him on the wrist and Ryan felt the man’s speed increase even more. His punches grew stronger, and Ryan was unable to keep up anymore.

A strong right fist slammed into Ryan’s jaw, and he felt his sight grow blurry for a moment. But he was not supposed to fail here, he was not supposed to lose to some man in a silly top hat. He was Ryan, he was the hero of the story.

So, he opened his mouth and released a gout of flames directly into the man.

When faced with a massive explosion of flames being thrown at their face, most people back away. Instead, Ryan’s opponent dove through the fire, positioning himself beneath Ryan’s jaw while laying into him with tight punches to Ryan’s stomach.

The punches involuntarily caused Ryan’s mouth to close, and this allowed his opponent to wallop him with a massive uppercut, sending him flying across the arena.

Ryan knew he had to stop holding back. This fighter was no chump. The man had bided his time, gaining power throughout the course of this battle, preying on the weak so that he would be able to challenge the strong. This was a situation that called for a hero.

He opened his mouth and released a plume of smoke into the air. This allowed him a moment’s reprieve from the insane beating he had been taking while he formulated a game plan.

Ryan truly didn’t want to give up all his trump cards at once, but he would have to use some of them to get through this man.

Ryan started spewing out streams of highly pressurized water. It was an odd quirk of his gift, the things he stored in his mouth retained their properties. Things that were hot stayed hot, things that were cold stayed cold, things that were moving stayed moving, and water that was under incredible pressure didn’t suddenly depressurize once he stored it.

He hired a man to take him to the bottom of the ocean where he swallowed as much sea water as possible. Originally, he had just hoped to keep an easy supply of water, but since he had stored it from the bottom of the sea, it had stayed under that high pressure.

Ryan released the water through the smoke, blinding firing powerful jets of water to where he assumed his enemy would be approaching him from.

He heard the occasional clang of water on metal as he hit another one of his competitors through the smoke, but there was no confirmation that he had hit the dastardly man yet.

Ryan paused as he realized something felt wrong, a primal surge of terror ripped through him as he felt a hand grasp his leg.

Ryan tried to turn his head to aim a spurt of water at the person grabbing his ankle. But his mouth was immediately shut by a swift kick to the jaw, which led neatly into a leg bar.

Ryan screamed out at the pain, but he couldn’t position himself to aim at his enemy without risking damage to himself.

His armor held, but the constricting pain was all consuming. He did the only thing he could think of, he consumed his own pain. He opened his mouth and stored the concept of this pain.

This move was Ryan’s greatest trump card. He had stored the emotions of many people throughout his travels, and he had found that a well-placed dose of depression did wonders to weaken his opponents.

Once he had stored the pain, he took a moment to compose himself, preparing his mind for the pain to come rushing back. Ryan aimed his mouth at the man, the same dastardly man who had that stupid top hat on and released all the pain into him.

Some of the pain flowed back into Ryan because his aim wasn’t perfect. But the man let go of his leg lock and started convulsing on the ground and pain wracked through his body.

Ryan struggled to get back to his feet. This was the disadvantage of the bulky knight armor; he was less maneuverable when he had been splayed out on the ground.

He was so slow that the other man had recovered from the immense pain by the time that Ryan had gotten to his feet.

Ryan was floundering in this fight and needed to gain some distance from the man. He had never been so soundly outmatched before, but he knew what he needed to do was bring the fight back into his own territory.

He opened his mouth and consumed his fear and his apprehension of facing the other man. Ryan felt a strange calm wash over his soul as he looked down upon the man in the little hat. The guy had just gotten a couple lucky punches on Ryan, there was no need to be worried.

Ryan spit out all the nervousness and the man in the little hat cringed as he looked up at Ryan. Ryan saw emotions flash through the man’s eyes, fear was the most prominent one.

But after a moment of consideration the man just laughed and started running,

“I’m not quite strong enough yet.” The man called out in a sing-songy voice as he stumbled away from Ryan.

The man used the smoke that Ryan had created to evade him. Ryan screamed into the blackness, hoping to get a lucky hit in on the man.

Flames, spears, volleys of arrows, even his emotional arsenal was used in the hopes of taking down this man. But nothing seemed to connect, the man was as elusive as the wind and Ryan was left in the dust.

Ryan stopped flailing out and took a moment to truly think about what was happening. This man had been playing with him, Ryan had truly been outclassed for the first time in his life. Of course, the situation was highly specialized for the other man to succeed, but that was a loser’s excuse.

He pondered his situation as one of the other competitors in the arena tried to attack Ryan from behind. Ryan released a waterfall on the woman, the deluge of water made her crash into the wall of the arena, after which the medics came running to her prone form and took her off the field.

An epiphany hit him. This situation was disadvantageous to Ryan. The man’s gift was obviously the game of ‘infection’ and Ryan would be able to cream him in a one-on-one. But this free-for-all format was incredibly helpful for that other man.

But the free-for-all format wouldn’t last, if Ryan made it to the later rounds, he would be able to wipe the floor with this man. So, he could just take out the other competitors then wait for his chance at revenge on the other man.

Ryan could win. It wouldn’t be the immediate victory that he wanted, but he could eventually best this man.

He could lose the battle and win the war.

But Ryan didn’t lose, he wouldn’t give up the battle just to win the war. He won every engagement and every battle; he overwhelmed his opponents with his endless power. He did not play games and he did not compromise.

Ryan roared into battle. He did not entangle himself with his weaker foes, he did not even glance over at them, their blows slid off him like water off the back of a duck. Nothing could stand in his path as he recklessly charged towards the man who had been besting him.

The man laughed as he saw the bull rush coming towards him. The man’s top hat was blown off his head as Ryan fired a condensed beam of lightning that just barely missed the man.

Ryan scowled at the waste of one of his strongest attacks, it had been difficult to catch the lightning in his mouth and to see it wasted was an absolute shame.

The acrid scent of burning filled the air as the man started running, giving up on his ruined hat. Ryan swallowed his frustration and exhaustion, saving it for later. He didn’t have the time to feel right now.

The game of cat and mouse continued as Ryan chased after the hatless man. The man ran up to their opponents and tagged them, dodging every attack that was thrown at him in the arena.

Everyone knew something was up with the guy who wasn’t attacking anyone, but just touching them and he had made no friends by doing all his little touches.

Finally, after touching every remaining competitor in the ring the man turned around to face Ryan. Ryan’s face was burning from embarrassment that he quickly consumed to keep himself in check. No matter the attack he had thrown the man had mystically avoided it. Whether Ryan tripped on an errant rock, or one of the other competitors stepped in the way, he couldn’t hit the other man if his life depended on it.

“Face me coward!” Ryan roared at the top of his lungs at the man.

The man just started giggling, “that’s hilarious. I never thought I would hear anyone say that in real life.”

This caused Ryan to flush again, and he had to consume even more embarrassment. He knew it was detrimental to his health in the long run, but he desperately needed a clear state of mind for this fight and was willing to take the risk.

The man bent down to the ground as Ryan was schooling his face again and picked up a stray rock. Then he threw the rock at Ryan’s head.

The rock moved faster than Ryan could react, and it clanged into his chest armor causing it to dent uncomfortably into his skin.

Ryan shot beams of water, but the man had absorbed enough strength that he actually sighed as he dodged everything Ryan threw at him. More rocks flew into Ryan and more dents started to form in his armor.

Ryan knew that his salvation lay in his final attack. He looked in his soul space, into a dusty corner that he avoided at all costs. He took all the sadness of his life, he took all his suicidal tendencies, and he took all his self-loathing and created a hodgepodge of everything that he hated about himself.

Ryan didn’t release this attack from his mouth, he puked it out. A wave of green emotional energy crashed out of him and was absorbed by the man throwing rocks at Ryan.

The effect was immediate. The man fell to his knees and wept at the cruelty of the world, at the pain and suffering that was allowed to exist. At his own frailty at his own pain.

Ryan prepared to end this man. It had been a great battle, but Ryan would never lose. He was the unmatched champion of this era and he refused to bow down to anyone.

The man looked at Ryan with pity in his eyes, before looking to the sky.

“Isn’t it beautiful? The sun shines on every day no matter our trivial lives. The moon rises and falls. The rain seeps into the land. The earth rumbles with power. The ocean waves ebb and flow.”

Ryan released a beam of magma at the man, hoping to finally end him.

The world around the man seemed to still and a tiny crack appeared in the earth that caused the man to shift uncomfortable to the side. The tiny adjustment caused the beam of magma to miss him, barely singing his hair instead of taking him out of commission.

“I think it’s wonderful to be alive and I am terribly sorry that you cannot see the wonders of the world.”

Then the ground beneath the man’s feet exploded as he leapt forward at Ryan. Ryan was too stunned to move as the man collided with him and punched him one final time in the head.

Ryan blacked out and lost his title as the greatest knight in all the land in an instant. He was someone new even if he didn’t know it yet.

When Ryan awoke, the medical officers rushed him out of the room, since his injuries barely counted compared to what some of the more ruthless fighters in the arena did. He was in a fugue state, he couldn’t believe what had just happened to him.

As he left the arena, he saw a person in a drab brown cloak. Their hair was brown, their skin was brown, their eyes were brown. Everything about them was the same shade of brown. They carried a small knife in their hands, the blade the same boring brown color as the rest of them.

In their eyes he saw a cold intelligence and ruthlessness.

“You don’t know who you are without winning, do you, Ryan?” The person addressed him and handed him the knife.

“No, I guess I don’t.” Ryan said as he raised the knife above his head and started chopping his hair off.

“I can tell you who you are Ryan. You are a perfect piece of a puzzle, a beautiful person in just the right shape and time to change the world.”

Ryan finished cutting his hair and stared at the long locks.

“And who are you to tell me who I am?”

“I am the seer known as Sam, and I have seen the legend that you become, follow me and you will never be forgotten as the man who changed the world.”

Ryan followed them, for what else was he to do?

A man stumbling in the dark will reach for any light he can see.