In the heart of a silent, foreboding forest shrouded in darkness, stood a figure. A 6-foot man possessed an ominous air, illuminated by piercing white eyes. He was dressed in a matte black tuxedo, with short blonde hair. In his grip, he held a round black hat close to his chest, also holding a half-broken black sword.
By his side stood a woman of captivating yet unsettling beauty. Long, black hair was pulled into a tight bun, revealing a prominent scar that traced from her left eyebrow down. Her red eyes exuded an eerie charm, and small fangs peeked out from her mouth. In her grasp, she wielded a long wooden staff crowned with a skull. Her attire was provocatively revealing, and a black viper snake coiled around her shoulder.
"Lord Voragor, I hope this new body is pleasing," the woman said.
"While it may have some downsides, for now, it will do," Voragor replied, his voice resonating with a cold and commanding tone.
Voragor smirked, his cold white gaze piercing as he addressed the woman, "Seeing that you're new, you may not know this, but I hate a traitor..." The air seemed to grow heavy as the woman felt her very soul shake under the weight of Voragor's words. "Still, I will spare your life, granted that you help me free," he declared.
Voragor was never someone who liked to have people around him who betrayed others, and in general, he despised betrayal. He had killed thousands because of it, earning him the name Ven Executioner, The woman, now aware of the precarious position she found herself in, could only nod in compliance.
At that moment a sudden jolt reverberated through Voragor's mind, a powerful disturbance that signaled the internal struggle of the teenage consciousness fighting for control. Memories surged forth, flashing vividly through his mind, each scene playing out with intensity.
...
In the bustling city of Terra Clalkan, where thousands of citizens and cars moved through the streets, there was a 5'5" feet 16-year-old boy. His frame was slender, and his short blonde hair looked scruffy and unkempt. Dressed in a regular black t-shirt and pants, he ran through the crowded streets with visible signs of exhaustion, stress, and sleep deprivation evident on his face, marked by a few bandages.
After running for a while, the boy arrived in front of a hospital, quickly heading inside to the reception. Breathless, he approached the female receptionist. "Can... I speak to Dr. Clark?" he asked weakly.
Approaching the reception at a medical facility, the boy tried to get the attention of the female receptionist, who seemed more engrossed in her phone, oblivious to his presence. This wasn't new for him, having experienced similar dismissals during his visits over the past 5 years. Hesitant to provoke any anger that might lead to him being kicked out, he chose to sit down and wait, he observed other patients and their families passing through the hall, most of them appearing happy.
'Will I ever get to be that happy?' the boy thought.
"Hey," finally, he heard the female receptionist call him. Looking at her, she returned his gaze with disdain and disgust. "Dr. Clark is waiting for you," she said in annoyance.
After a while, the boy stood up and walked down the hall as the receptionist's attitude left a bitter taste, still taking the elevator up to the sixth floor. Fear gripped him as he imagined the worst while riding the elevator. The "Ding!" sound marked his arrival on the sixth floor. With a trembling hand, he raised his fist and knocked desperately on the door of room 6.
"Come in," he heard from the other side of the door. Slowly entering, he saw a tall man with a smile on his face. Little did the boy know, that smile was filled with evil. "Come on, hurry up... I need that money to visit the love shop again," the man thought, eager to feast his eyes on the sight of beautiful women once more.
"Dr. Clark, I came to pay for the treatment," the boy said.
"Good. After that, we'll instantly start the treatment," Dr. Clark said, welcoming him in.
In an attempt to address whatever awaited him inside, the boy pulled out a large stack of old bills and handed them over to the doctor present. The doctor snatched the money eagerly, immediately starting to count it with a visible excitement on his face. Despite the doctor's reaction, the boy remained somewhat indifferent, not putting much thought into the exchange.
Dr. Clark raised an eyebrow as he looked at Jax. "Sorry to say this, Jax, but this isn't enough," he said. "The new price is 23,000."
Jax's pupils shrank in shock. "What? But last week you said that the price was 13,000, now it's 23,000?" he exclaimed.
"Changes happen every day for medicine. Besides, if you don't pay for the treatment, your sister will stay in a coma forever," Dr. Clark said, well aware of Jax's weakness being his sister. "The new price is 23,000."
'Sis,' Jax thought, remembering his sister lying in bed for years. He didn't want that for her anymore. "This is all I have left to live on for two whole weeks, but I will get the rest. Just don't change the price again," he said, taking out his remaining money and handing it over.
'Ha, sucker. I will for sure change that price again. So gullible,' Dr. Clark thought. "I promise I won't. You may visit your sister before you leave," he said before walking out of the room.
After Dr. Clark departed, Jax made his way to a side door, his eyes filled with tears. Stepping into another room, he encountered a heartbreaking scene a little girl lying on a bed, connected to multiple machines, his sister, who had slipped into a coma after their parents' tragic car accident. Overwhelmed by emotion, Jax finally succumbed to tears, standing by her bedside and crying his heart out.
Jax gritted his teeth as gently grasping his sister's hand. "Sis, I promise I will make sure you're healed. After that, I'll give you everything you want so that you can have the best life possible," he said confidently aloud. "Just to unburden you without having to worry about me... I got a g-good job. I'm making enough to almost pay for your treatment," he stammered, knowing he lied to the only person he had left.
"Bye, sis. I will see you when you wake up," Jax said, his voice filled with determination and a hint of sorrow.
Jax, lost in his own sorrow, failed to notice the subtle signs of life from her. Unbeknownst to him, a tear escaped her eye, and her fist clenched tightly.
As he left the room, the hospital corridor seemed colder, and lonelier. With a heavy heart and clenched fists in a haste, Jax fled the hospital, heading towards a construction site. Despite being surrounded by burly men engaged in labor, Jax, with a physique leaner than most, effortlessly lifted a concrete stone. He tirelessly carried it back and forth, fulfilling his routine day job. While it didn't bring in substantial pay, it provided him with enough.
After several hours, Jax received his payment of 75 bills based on the amount of concrete he transported that day. Without pausing for rest or cleaning himself up, he dashed off to another destination. This was his everyday grind lifting bricks he still hasn't gain strength, as his meager earnings were not enough for a decent meal.
As the night sky enveloped the surroundings, Jax reached a mysterious location. Accessing a secret entrance, he descended underground to the sound of exuberant cheers. Here, he undertook his second job, offering slightly higher pay than bricklifting but at a different cost. In one room, he spotted a short, portly, unattractive man flanked by two imposing bodyguards. This man was the owner of the underground establishment.
"Jax, you're here!" the chubby man exclaimed in excitement, wobbling over to him, his fat constantly shaking.
The chubby man wrapped his hand around Jax's shoulder. "Alright, kid! You know the drill. Just move around and let him wail on you a little, but this time, survive to round 7, okay?" he said, his breath strongly smelling of food and alcohol.
Jax offered no words in response to the man, simply nodding though the enthusiasm in his response was absent. He had taken up this seemingly degrading job to earn money quickly, swallowing his pride to ensure his sister's well-being, he then stepped into another room. There, he began changing into a revealing short that exposed the black and blue bruises that adorned his battered body. He then exited the room, greeted by the raucous cheers of a fervent crowd.
"Axel!"
"Axel!"
"Axel!"
In an announcement box, the chubby man with a mix of excitement declared, "Ladies and gentlemen... tonight, we've brought back your favorite opponent for Axel the Cutter!"
In the midst of the uproar, a towering, muscular figure strode into view, roaring as he entered a circular ring. The crowd's cheers intensified, reaching a peak. Jax, then entered the ring, prompting the spectators to erupt in boos, some even yelling, "Kill him! Kill him!"
"You're back again, weakling," Axel declared, looking down at Jax with disdain.
Without warning, a loud bell pierced the air, and Jax felt the impact of something slamming into the side of his face. Instantly recognizing it as Axel's fist, he raised his own fists in an attempt to shield himself. Axel unleashed a barrage of punches, each blow rattling Jax's brain and fueling the excitement of the spectators.
This constituted Jax's second job serving as a punching bag for illicit night entertainment, a means to earn money at the expense of enduring physical harm. As minutes passed, they reached the fifth round, and Jax was already bleeding from his mouth, face, and side, the toll of Axel's relentless assault evident on his weakened body. Finally, the bell signaled the beginning of the sixth round.
Jax moved with shaky determination, teeth gritted as he fought through the pain, his sister serving as his sole motivation. But in a sudden turn of events, a fist landed on his temple, and he instantly succumbed, causing the crowd to boo.
Half an hour later, Jax awoke in his changing room, shivering with a mix of fright and realization. As his memories flooded back, revealing his knockout in the sixth round. As he exited the room, he approached the chubby man who handed him some money something unprecedented in their interactions. Though initially excited as he counted his earnings, the smile on Jax's face shifted to a frown as he realized he had been shortchanged.
"This is 150; it should be 200," Jax asked, questioning the discrepancy.
Yet, the chubby man offered any explanation; instead, he casually took out his phone and burst into laughter. Jax clenched his teeth, sensing trouble. He decided to make a swift exit, well aware that causing any commotion might cost him his life.
The chubby man shot Jax an angry glance, issuing a sinister command, "Send some people to kill him silently. He dared to make me lose money," he emphasized, underscoring the importance of discretion.
Limping through the darkness beneath the rain-soaked sky and echoing thunder, Jax traversed the empty streets. In the obscurity, he noticed something on the ground. Drawing closer, he discovered a letter, oddly unaffected by the rain.
"What is this weird letter?" Jax wondered, opening the envelope.
As Jax read the contents of the letter, shock and excitement surged through him. If the letter was to be true, it was an invitation to the Nexus Academy where it can help him. Determined to visit and bring his sister along, he wasted no time.
"I hope this place can really help her," Jax muttered to himself.
The next day, amidst protests from those at the hospital, he carried his sister away to a secluded spot. Hastily tearing open the letter, as he heard the distant wail of sirens. Suddenly, a magical portal materialized in front of him.
"Sis, I found a way to heal you," Jax declared before entering the portal.
Appearing on the other side of the portal, he found himself at the grand Nexus Academy shocked by its appearance and it being real, but suddenly a woman appeared in front of him, confirming the contents of the letter.
"Why is she here... only you were invited," the woman said.
"Wait, please. She's in a coma, and I can't leave her alone," Jax pleaded, tears filling his eyes.
The woman thought for a couple of seconds"Hmm, we can work something out," she said with a smirk.
...
After the memories stopped and Voragor's head ceased hurting, the woman approached slowly. "My lord, are you okay?" she asked.
Voragor shook his head. "Yes, now go and do what I ordered you to do," he commanded, showing no weakness.
As the woman bowed and walked away, Voragor looked at her. 'So, you invited him here. I will have to be careful with you,' he thought, as his mind churned with suspicion, contemplating the loyalty of those around him.