A cool breeze whispered through the garden, rustling the low grass as clouds drifted over the moon and stars, casting the night in a deeper shade of darkness. The streetlamps outside offered faint illumination, but within the confines of the high garden walls, shadows reigned.
"Ah, it's freezing out here!" Erick muttered, rubbing his arms in an attempt to fend off the cold. Moments ago, he had been snug under his blankets, only to be unceremoniously dragged outside by his brother.
"Stop complaining and get over it." Nikolas snapped, his tone brooking no argument.
In the dim light, the two brothers stood, clad in black, their weapons reflecting the faint glimmers of light that managed to pierce the darkness. Nikolas cut an imposing figure, his broad shoulders squared, and his presence commanding. In his right hand, he gripped a katana; in his left, a tanto. Even in the shrouded night, the blade's sharpness was evident, its edge gleaming with hints of blackened steel. Wrapped around the handle was an old, yellowed cloth bearing Japanese script.
The Rising Red Sun—that was the name of the katana. Though Nikolas knew little about its origins, even Balfur, the store's owner, had been unsure. What was clear, however, was that this weapon had seen battle, its blade showing slight signs of wear. Erick, standing beside his brother, held a similar pair of weapons, but with blue cloth wrapped around the handle. His katana was named The Deep Blue Waves.
The Rising Red Sun, that was the name of the katana. That was all Nikolas knew about his weapon, just its name, for not even Balfur knew its origins.
Why are we out here?" Erick asked, still half-asleep, as he rubbed his eyes.
Nikolas' expression turned grim. "I'm going to teach you some techniques I developed during those ten brutal years," he said, his voice carrying the weight of his experiences. "You're taking this training too lightly, Erick."
"But—" Erick started to protest, only to be cut off by the sharpness in Nikolas' gaze.
"No buts," Nikolas interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The world we know is about to end, and we have only a week to prepare. What's coming is beyond anything you can imagine. If you don't take this seriously, you won't survive."
Erick swallowed hard. He had never seen such a stern look in his brother's eyes. The weight of Nikolas' words pierced through the remnants of his sleepiness, forcing him to focus. His grip on the hilt of his katana tightened as the reality of the situation sank in—this wasn't just training. This was survival, and failure was not an option.
"I can't be everywhere all the time, Erick," Nikolas continued, his tone softer but still intense. "I'm relying on you to protect our parents when I'm not around. Understand?"
Erick nodded silently.
"But, shouldn't you teach father too?" Erick asked, his voice tinged with worry.
Nikolas shook his head firmly. "He wouldn't understand. If he saw what I'm about to show you, it might drive him to madness. His sense of justice is too strong—too rigid—for what's coming. He's not ready to face the darkness we're about to dive into."
"Brother, what are you talking about? What exactly are you going to teach me?" Erick's confusion deepened, his earlier resolve wavering slightly.
"I'm going to teach you how to kill."
"…"
The words hung in the air, heavy and chilling. Erick stood there, stunned. It wasn't just the content of what Nikolas had said, but the cold, detached way he had said it. A shiver ran down Erick's spine, his heartbeat quickening as an unfamiliar fear gripped him. For a moment, it was as if he were staring not at his brother, but at a predator sizing up its prey. Nikolas' eyes, deep and dark, held a steely resolve that made Erick feel small, vulnerable.
"Watch carefully," Nikolas instructed, his voice low and commanding. "I'm still regaining the abilities I once had, but this will be enough for now."
With that, Nikolas moved swiftly, retreating into the deeper shadows cast by the high walls surrounding the garden. Erick's eyes strained to follow his brother's movements, but it was as if Nikolas had vanished into the night itself. The shadows seemed to swallow him whole, leaving Erick standing alone in the cold, silent garden.
Erick stepped closer, peering into the darkness where his brother had disappeared. But there was nothing—no movement, no sound. Just an eerie stillness that sent a chill down his spine. Suddenly, he felt the cold press of metal against his neck, sharp and unforgiving.
"Dead…" The word was whispered in a low, commanding voice right behind him. The absence of any breeze made Erick shiver even more as the reality of the situation hit him. It took him a moment to recognize the voice as Nikolas'.
Slowly, Erick turned around, his heart pounding in his chest. Nikolas stood there, katana poised at his throat. The expression on his older brother's face was calm, almost serene, but the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable. It was a look that promised death to any who opposed him.
Erick's breath caught in his throat. And in that moment, Erick understood that what his brother was teaching him wasn't just about survival. It was about embracing the harsh reality of the world that was coming, a world where the strong would live and the weak would perish.
*SLASH*
Without a word, Erick unsheathed his katana and swung it at Nikolas, his movements fueled by determination and a surge of adrenaline. But Nikolas moved with fluid grace, effortlessly parrying the attack with his own blade.
*THING*
The sharp ring of metal striking metal echoed through the garden. Before Erick could launch another attack, Nikolas stepped back, his figure melding seamlessly into the shadows. It was as if the darkness had swallowed him whole, leaving Erick alone in the cold, moonlit garden.
"You won't get me this time!" Erick shouted, pushing his senses to their limits. He strained to hear, to see, to feel anything that might give away his brother's position. Every muscle in his body tensed as he prepared for the next move.
"I already have," Nikolas' voice whispered, suddenly appearing at Erick's side. The tanto in Nikolas' hand was pressed firmly against Erick's neck, the cold steel a reminder of how easily he had been outmaneuvered.
"Damn it!" Erick roared in frustration, the sound escaping before he could stop it.
"Shhh… You're going to wake our parents," Nikolas cautioned, his tone a mix of sternness and amusement. "The night is long, and we only have this last week to get you ready."
Erick gritted his teeth, his pride stinging more than the chill in the air. "Do it again!" he demanded, refusing to back down. He couldn't stand being bested so easily. He was a fast learner, a natural when it came to martial arts, and the thought of falling behind his brother spurred him on.
That was Erick's way—he thrived on challenge, on the relentless pursuit of strength. He wasn't just fighting to survive; he was fighting to make his family proud, to prove that he could stand alongside his brother when the world crumbled around them.
To sum it up, Erick wanted to make his family feel proud of him!
Nikolas nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Good. Now focus."
The training resumed, each clash of their blades echoing through the night. Erick attacked with everything he had, but Nikolas was always one step ahead, his movements precise and controlled. Erick's frustration fueled his determination, and though he couldn't match his brother's skill, he refused to yield.
The night passed quickly, the brothers pushing each other to their limits under the veil of darkness. The clouds above thickened, further obscuring the moon and stars, but the two figures in the garden moved as if in a deadly dance, their weapons an extension of their will.
Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes watched from one of the windows overlooking the garden. Reginald stood there, his expression unreadable as he observed his sons. The sound of clashing swords had roused him from his sleep, his instincts as sharp as ever, even in retirement.
"My son," he murmured softly, his gaze fixed on Nikolas. "What have you been through all these years?"
He sighed deeply, a sense of foreboding settling in his chest. "Dark times are really coming..."
With that, Reginald turned away from the window, leaving his sons to their training. For now, he would let them continue, silently preparing himself for the role he would have to play in the uncertain future.
********
The early morning sun streamed through the kitchen windows as the family gathered for breakfast. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mixing with the aroma of warm toast and eggs. It was a peaceful scene, but something was off.
Erick sat at the table, looking worn-out, as if he'd been doing heavy exercises all night. His hair was disheveled, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He absentmindedly poked at his food, his movements sluggish.
Emilia watched him with a concerned expression. [It must be puberty!] she thought, trying to convince herself that it was normal for a boy his age to be tired and moody. She glanced at her husband, wondering if she should say something.
[It's not exactly what you are thinking!] Reginald caught her look and gave her a knowing smile. He had heard the sounds from the garden last night—sounds of clashing blades and whispered instructions. But he chose not to intervene, trusting that Nikolas knew what he was doing.
The culprit behind everything, was eating his breakfast happily.
Nikolas, the culprit behind Erick's exhaustion, sat at the table, eating his breakfast with a satisfied grin. He was lost in thought, mentally ticking off the days. [Five days left... I think it's time to release it!]
Over the past few days, Nikolas had been busy. Between training Erick, reinforcing the house, and preparing for the apocalypse, he had another project in the works. A plan that required precision, secrecy, and a bit of old-school skill.
His primary goal was simple: save his family. But he couldn't stop there. Humanity couldn't be wiped out, and Nikolas knew that he couldn't save everyone on his own. The solution? Empower people to save themselves.
It was a simple yet audacious idea: warn the world about the impending apocalypse. Of course, most wouldn't believe him, but if even a fraction did, it could make all the difference. And to do that, he needed to make sure the message reached as many people as possible.
That's where his greatest, and perhaps most unexpected, skill came into play: hacking.
Nikolas had always been a tech enthusiast, a self-proclaimed Lord of Hacking during his younger days. He had the skills, the knowledge, and the determination to pull off something big. Something that would wake the world up to the danger it was about to face.
Hacking the global television and communication systems!
Just like that, the Lord of Hacking woke up to terrify this mortal realm once more!!
The plan was bold, but it wasn't without risks. Once he hacked into the global network, he'd have every major corporation and international law enforcement agency coming after him. He couldn't afford to do it lightly; timing was crucial. He needed to give people enough time to prepare, but not so much that he'd be caught before the apocalypse began.
The dilemma gnawed at him. [What kind of high-profile people or secret agents could come looking for me?] he wondered. But he reassured himself with one thought: once the apocalypse started, they'd have bigger problems than chasing a hacker.
*******
After breakfast, Nikolas excused himself and hurried to his room. He booted up his computer, the screen flickering to life as he entered a secure connection. The hum of the machine was a familiar, a reminder of the countless hours he had spent honing his skills.
He logged into a private chat room, the digital interface stark and utilitarian. The chat room was empty, save for the ominous name that appeared on the screen: The Shadows. It was a group of secretive hackers, a collective with insiders in governments and corporations all over the world. People who could get things done without leaving a trace.
Nikolas typed a message, his fingers flying over the keyboard.
-The_Lord_of_Hacking has entered the chat.
-Shadow32 has entered the chat.
The_Lord_of_Hacking: Are you guys ready for it?
Shadow32: Hmm, but we don't get why you're doing this.
The_Lord_of_Hacking: Just for fun!
Shadow32: You wanna see the world burn, just like the Joker?
The_Lord_of_Hacking: The world will burn indeed!
Shadow32: That video of yours… pretty intriguing.
The_Lord_of_Hacking: Have you finished editing?
Shadow32: We did it. No one will recognize your voice, and we'll release it from here. Your location's safe.
The_Lord_of_Hacking: Good. I'm starting to overrun the USA and Russian systems, as we agreed.
Shadow32: The others are simple, we are doing it right now.
Nikolas exhaled slowly, his gaze never leaving the screen as he initiated the attack. With a few keystrokes, he set the hack in motion, his software infiltrating the firewalls and security protocols of some of the most heavily guarded systems in the world. Lines of code scrolled rapidly across his screen, the digital equivalent of an unstoppable force.
The_Lord_of_Hacking: Done, counting to 3 before releasing the video.
Shadow32: Done, also putting it on the internet.
The_Lord_of_Hacking: 3
Shadow32: 2
The_Lord_of_Hacking: 1
Nikolas leaned back in his chair, his breath coming in short, controlled bursts. He knew that in a matter of moments, the chaos would begin. Governments would scramble to contain the breach, news outlets would buzz with the sudden, shocking broadcast, and millions of people would be left reeling, questioning everything they thought they knew.
But for Nikolas, it wasn't just about causing chaos or proving his skills. It was about forcing the world to wake up to the reality that was coming, a reality that was far darker and more dangerous than anyone could have imagined.