- 10th August 2138, Dorm Room -
The Order had sent a care package as a reward for helping out with a prison break. Hopefully, they wouldn't start relying on me for everything. That'd be annoying. The care package contained money, which was useful, though I'd probably use it all rather quickly.
I was woken up early in the morning by a loud banging on the door.
"Erik! Erik! Get up!" A voice shouted.
I groaned and got out of bed, opening the door to see a frantic-looking Eliora. A crazed look in her eyes, one only to be described as familial desperation.
"What's wrong?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"It's my father! He's been taken by the Mafia!" She cried, tears streaming down her face.
Cursing under my breath, I chastised myself. I should've seen this coming.
"Don't worry. I'll save him." I said, trying to sound reassuring.
"Put some clothes on! You cur. " Eli blushed, as I realised I was still in my bed wear.
Eliora looked away shyly as I quickly got dressed, before grabbing my sword and revolver and following her out the door.
"Shit." I muttered, before coming up with a plan.
Considering how I'd almost died the last time I encountered them, I needed to be prepared.
I cast {Storm's Arsenal: Schwert}, beckoning a blade of violet plasma at my hand as I called him on my InfoComm. As we began to run to Benjamin's last known location.
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A lone warehouse stood solemnly in an unknown back alley. Outside it around 10 mafia goons were stationed, all wearing similar uniforms with identical revolver EX-Foci to last time.
Taking them on was going to be a huge risk. Considering the numbers. I'd have to use all my power. Straining myself beyond my usual restraints. I beckoned 20 individual flickering blades of purple plasma behind me.
Controlling them with the fluid-like gravity I controlled in my palm. A galaxy of blade and star, dancing about the battlefield. I dashed forth with my blade, cutting 2 of the men in a solitary strike. Using my blades to block the inevitable bullets. Being fired at me.
Eliora stood motionless, scared of what could happen to both me and her father, I'd assume. Her legs shaking like a baby doe.
"You'll never get your father back!" one of them jeered. "Haha! You're adopted, idiot kid."
Somehow, this sprung Eliora into some sort of rage. Her casting a few light balls, Zeigens, at the mafia men.
Unfortunately. The mafia men all focused their attention immediately on the green-haired girl, who admittedly wasn't too great at fighting.
I watched in melancholic fear as shot after shot penetrated her petite frame, blood splattering more and more with each shot.
Holes upon holes forming across her body as bullets of varying energies created on her bones, pulverising her muscles. Flesh flying off her body, goring her from head to toe. Bone unto muscle unto marrow being exposed and decomposed instantly.
This went on for 2 horror-filled minutes until all that was left of her was a green-haired, bloody crimson mess. Like meat minced for consumption. She... She didn't even look human...
...
...
Flames inside me welling up, as if fueled by a air bellow. The inner inferno of rage at seeing the death of a friend burning with vigour. I felt myself begin to lose control of my body.
As much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn't. She'd died. It was as all my fault. Could I have done anything better? Why couldn't I have gone back and asked for more help?
[Singularity Rousing Initiated: Fight With Conviction to Complete]
[Awakening Process... ... Initiated]
A voice of the exalted eyes spoke to me, giving me the last push over the edge. I sure needed it to go buck wild... Blinding myself with pure rage.
Blood splatter after Blood splatter, I crushed each mafia man into small spheres of meat and bone. Collecting each ball, orbiting it around me like a comet, ready to batter anyone who got close. Each person crushed slowly and painfully into a compressed ball of gravitational fury.
Growing akin to an unstable nuclear core, critical and more difficult to control. My rage was fueling my powers more and more. It was fun.
Stopping wasn't an option until I felt something hot in my head. Like a really strong headache.
Placing my hand on my head, I felt something unreal. There was a hole. What? I'd been shot by what looked like a regular EX-Foci revolver bullet. My vison slowly fading the white, I turned back to see a lone Mafia goon, gun to my head. It felt cold. Everything felt frigid. What?
I'd been an idiot... Not watching my rear in rage... I damned the world as everything faded before me. Coalescing into a sludge of nothingness. Everything felt cold, an icy epoch engulfing my muscles and bones.
-------:-
[Aspect of the Epoch]...
[Awakened]
-:-------
- 10th August 2138, Dorm Room -
I was woken up early in the morning by a loud banging on the door.
"Erik! Erik! Get up!" A voice shouted.
I groaned and got out of bed, opening the door to see a frantic looking Eliora. A crazed look in her eyes, one only to be described as familial desperation.
"What's wrong?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"It's my father! He's been taken by the Mafia!" She cried, tears streaming down her face.
About to curse under my breath. I slowed down for a moment...
Hadn't this happened before?
Memories of past events flashing before me... I'd died at the hands of a lone mafia member after slaying his brethren... How was I alive? How was Eliora alive, she'd been minced to nothing...
"What day is it?" I asked, a crazed look in my eyes. Hugging Eliora tighter than a vice-grip/
"Put some clothes on! B-But it's the 10th of August 2138..." Eli blushed, as I released I was still in my bed wear.
The same day I'd died at the hands of the mafia goons... The same day I'd watched her be torn apart before my eyes... There had to be something I could do to change things...
I steeled myself. Showing emotion now would be a bad idea.
Eliora looked away shyly yet again as I quickly got dressed, before grabbing my sword and revolver and following her out the door.
"Fuck." I muttered to myself, trying to come up with a plan.
Considering how I'd actually died. I came to a horrific conclusion.
We needed Travis. He could do it. I'd not seen him lately, but I was sure he'd grown exponentially in strength.,
I cast {Storm's Arsenal: Schwert} yet again, beckoning a blade of purple ionisation at my hand as I called him on my InfoComm. As we began to run to Benjamin's last known location.
- 10th August 2138, Warehouse -
As Eliora and I rushed to the same warehouse where I'd died. We were met with relief at the scene before us. I had chosen to hide the fact I'd witnessed her death from Eliora. But that didn't stop me from being subconsciously more protective of her. This time holding her hand as we ran.
Travis had arrived before us and was skirmishing with about 20 of the Mafia goons. Flinging balls of starlight at them, a scary mix of both inferno and holy light. Countering each of their shots perfectly, without a scratch on his body.
"Why can't we hit him?" one of them said. "It's like he's toying with us"
{Blessed Rain: Ignis Mortem} He chanted, a huge aura of fire surrounded his toned frame him. Burning with the passion of at least one thousand suns. I could feel the raging flame from metres away. Suffice to say, this boy was overpowered. It looked like something straight out of an action movie on the HoloVision.
A gargantuan mass of fire formed at his hand, akin to Atlas holding up the sky. With the leg strength of a demigod, Travis jumped above the 20 goons. Forcing his gargantuan mass of pure hell unto them, leaving the ground as nothing but magma and cracked metal...
"Well look'see here' seems a' mighta' gone too hard' on y'all" He touted, in his bumpkin accent.
He turned around nonchalantly, plucking a reed from his from his mouth.
This man was a badass, even with such a bumpkin-like appearance.
"Whaddy'll think, should I go harder?" He asked looking proud of himself. He was akin to the unflinching angel of justice.
The remaining goons looked at him with a mix of both anger and terror in their eyes. The flames of bloodlust burning in their eyes, while unable to move out of fear.
"Now what's this a' hear about y'all takin' this girlie here's pops??" Travis asked, nodding towards Eliora.
The goons said nothing, so Travis took a step forward, the ground rumbling with his every step. Summoning his Holy Sword: Maishund in a sharp flash of white. It looked a tad different to how I remembered. The blade following a more ornate pattern, a thin aura of flame enveloping it. He must have ranked up his Singularity.
"Y'all got 'til the count of 3. 1." Travis said, calmly. Like a predator hunting its helpless prey.
"2." Travis said, a little louder.
"3." Travis said, almost shouting.
The ground began to shake, as if an earthquake was happening.
The goons dropped to their knees, begging for mercy.
"Now, where is he?" Travis asked, his voice eerily calm.
"H-He's in the back." One of the goons said, trembling.
"Good. Now get outta here before a' change ma' mind." Travis said, dismissively.
The goons got up and ran out of the warehouse as fast as they could.
"There ya go' pal." Travis said, before walking towards the back of the warehouse.
Eliora and I followed him, as he kicked open the door to reveal a small room.
In the room was a recognisable man, tied to a chair. It was Benjamin Fleming, bloodied and bruised from what looked like torture...
Tears in her eyes, carrying the sorrow of 1000 little girls, Eliora ran to her father's side, finally manifesting her Singularity in front of me. A white glow healing all of Benjamin's wounds almost instantly.
Travis approached me, now in a much more jovial state.
"Thanks f' letting lil' ol' me help ya' out." He bumbled in his country tone. Smiling gleefully.
"No problem. I'm just glad we could save him." I remarked, genuinely happy that we had saved him.
"Yeah, me too." Travis said, his face now more serious.
We all walked out of the warehouse, leaving the goons to their own devices. We all went our separate ways, promising to keep in touch more often after such an event.
Filled with joy that I'd finally won. I wanted to learn more about this power I had.
"Hey, Travis" I called. "I need your help"
He was loyal, frighteningly so. He'd agreed to come fight these mafia men without a question.
Could he help me figure out my new Singularity? I had only one way of finding out...