"Your mother or your sister, choose."
"Please… please. Not mommy and Chloe!"
"Choose. Your mother or your sister? Choose who dies in front of you."
"No, no… Please… why are you doing this!?."
"Well, since you're not choosing…
…then I'll just kill the two of them."
"No… No!"
It was a roar, a cry for help. But it didn't really matter because no one listened; before, when it happened, and after. No one listened to his cries, no one listened to the cries of a little boy. Everyone just watched.
The only one that responded to him when it was happening was his mother, who was shaking her head as if telling him that it was not his fault. But it is…
…and the world was not shy in showing that it was his fault that his mother died.
"No!"
"Rhys, if you're not paying attention in class then get the hell out!"
"...Huh?"
A nightmare, again—No, it would have been a blessing if it was just that. But for Rhys, it was a memory… a reminder of what he had done. It never leaves him and emerges each time when he thought he had finally forgotten. It didn't care where he was; the guilt, the pain—it tortures him at the most unexpected of times.
And this time, it was in front of his whole class.
"Professor… I think he's having another seizure!"
"Gods damn it! Someone bring him to the clinic!"
"No…" Rhys's deep breaths echoed throughout the entire class as he stepped away from his desk. The tone of his voice, lethargic but soothing at the same time.
Half of his face was completely covered by his messy black hair.
"I… don't want to bother anyone, Professor Laurence. There's no need to—"
"I can take him!"
And before Rhys could even take another step, one of his classmates raised his hand; carrying a smile on his face as he stood up from his seat.
"No," and as soon as Rhys saw even a glimpse of the student's red hair, quickly shook his head, "I can go by myself, Professor. I—"
"Just go!" It was obvious to the other students that Rhys didn't want to be escorted out. Professor Laurence, however, just waved his hand; expressing his displeasure with a roll of his eyes,
"Why are all of you Lowborns so stubborn? Just go! Your classmate is already offering you a hand!"
Lowborn.
The term sounded degrading, but no one really batted an eye at the word—because the majority of the world and its history shared the same sentiment.
A thousand years ago, monsters emerged from below the Earth, digging their way up through the surface from what is known as the Underworld, the world beneath the world. They brought a war that the humans of that time were not equipped to face, and perhaps never would have been.
The monsters came unexpectedly, rendering the humans' weapons completely useless.
Their swords, spears, and bows could really only slow down the inevitable—mankind's annihilation. And they did not even slow it down enough to make a difference. Their numbers just dwindled. Their men fought in a futile war… just sacrifices so that the others could live even just the next day.
But when all was lost and only a third of the humans remained, the Gods descended from the Heavens and made themselves known to the world—The Olympians.
They were led by a supreme being called Zeus, a deity that was capable of summoning lightning that could turn the sky itself asunder. And with his legion and the other Olympians, they were able to drive out the monsters swiftly… ending a battle that would have wiped out mankind.
The war, however, was not over.
The Holes remained.
The monsters hid and burrowed back deep into the Holes and into the Underworld. And when the gods left, they returned…
…but the gods could no longer offer any help.
The time the gods could spend in the mortal realm was limited, all of them must return to the Heavens, or the balance of the world will be destroyed by their very own presence—expediting mankind's annihilation even faster.
The gods, however, were merciful and divine. They were able to offer their help one last time through a blessing.
They gave each and every woman on Earth a child.
Half god, half mortal.
The only thing that the humans needed to do was survive. Survive until their women give birth, survive until the blessing of the gods has grown up to fight their war—and they did. They took care of the demigods, trained all of them to be warriors.
And soon, mankind started reclaiming their world. The Demigods who have achieved much during this war were treated and hailed as heroes. And after years and years of fighting, the Surface once again belonged to the demigods—no, to the New Humans.
As time passed, all of the previous generations died out, leaving only the new humans to watch over the world.
But as even more time passed, their blood started to become diluted. The demigods that were born from different or lesser gods mixed with the higher gods, staining their blood and causing them to become weaker; their powers clouded and hindered.
There are those, however, who have managed to keep their bloodline pure. Uniting their families and keeping them in a closed circle; throughout the years, the world came to know these people as the Nobles—humans with the most potential to be the most powerful.
There are those that have retained their abilities, but their growth and strength are limited due to the combination of their bloodline—the Commoners. And as their name suggests, they build up the majority of the population.
And then, there are Lowborns. Their blood, diluted to the point they barely even possess any abilities. Some would even compare them to the humans of old; powerless and weak. They were considered to be slaves until just 200 years ago, and were even almost wiped out during a war 80 years ago…
…and Rhys Wilder is considered to belong in this category.
"I can go on my own," Rhys breathed out; the tone of his voice, slightly was slow…but it still held a clearness in it, "I don't need—"
"There's no need to be shy, Rhys," and once again, Rhys's words were interrupted as the red-haired student, Lex, placed his arm around his shoulders. Rhys was forced to hunch, however, as he was almost a foot taller than his classmate.
"Ew!"
And subtly, without anyone noticing, Lex hit Rhys's stomach with his elbow. Or perhaps people did notice, they were just all looking the other way. Because of this, the girl sitting in front of Rhys could not help but yelp, as her hair was almost hit by whatever was inside Rhys's mouth.
"Look what you did, Rhys!" The professor wanted to throw the marker in his hand as he saw Rhys almost puking at his classmate, "Just stop bothering the class and go! Lex is already offering you a hand, man!"
"Let's go, let's go," Lex forcefully dragged Rhys away with a friendly smile on his face.
"Wait, professor," Rhys, however, still looked at his professor. But alas, Professor Laurence just started waving his hand; not even bothering to look at Rhys anymore. He just shook his head and sighed as Rhys was dragged away by Lex.
"Rhys is acting out again, they should expel the poor guy already."
And with Rhys gone, his classmates' whispers quickly filled the entire room.
"Stop being so insensitive. Didn't you hear? They're letting out the guy who killed his mother."
"Wait, for real? What?"
"Hm. I heard he's even being scouted by the Cerberus guild."
"What? Why!? The guy's a psychopath."
"You seriously don't know? They found out that he was a Noble inside the prison, the blood of Poseidon runs deep—"
"Quiet!"
And before the whispers could turn into blatant chatter, Professor Laurence once again screamed; making everyone shut their mouths completely.
As for Rhys, he was now lying—not on a clinic bed, but on the cold tiles of the lavatories.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to stand out, you fucking Lowborn!?"
"...Shit," Rhys was groveling on the cold, damp floor; blood, oozing from his mouth and the several cuts he now had on his face. Even then, however, he just gritted his teeth; his eyes that could barely be seen, still as clear as they could be.
"You know what?" A chuckle then started to whisper inside the lavatory as Lex grabbed a phone from his pocket, "You don't like being filmed, right? So why don't I stream your beating you so you would remember to know your—!!!"
And before Lex could finish his words, Rhys suddenly stood up from the floor; his entire body, moving like clockwork as his fist expertly hit Lex straight on the face, causing a loud snap to whip in the air.
And yet… Lex's face barely even moved a single millimeter.
This difference in strength between a Lowborn and a Commoner may not be noticeable at first glance, but it exists. Oh… it exists—and as Lex had a tiny tinge of blood of the mighty Demigod Herakles inside him, this difference is as clear as day.
Compensate as much as he might with his physical body; training it to its peak…
…Rhys was just a Lowborn.
"You…" Lex's voice started to tremble in rage as he grabbed Rhys by his neck,
"...You're fucking dead now!"