The sun was setting as Matthew approached the gates of his hometown. The orange glow bathed the familiar streets in light, but there was no warmth in the sight for him. He had no love left for this place, only bitter memories.
As he entered, a voice he wished to never hear again rang out, smug and mocking.
"Tch, look who decided to crawl back into town. The nugatory kid himself."
Matthew's jaw tightened. It was Damon, one of his old tormentors, the ringleader of those who had mocked him endlessly when he was younger. Back when his father was alive, Damon and his gang would taunt him for his refusal to learn magic. To them, magic was everything, and anyone without it was worthless.
"What the hell do you want?" Matthew replied, his voice cold and sharp.
Damon sneered. "Your father was a fool, just like you. Thought swinging a sword around would make him special. Guess what? It didn't save him, and it won't save you either."
Damon raised his hand, summoning a massive fireball that pulsed with heat. "Let me show you why you're still nothing!"
The fireball shot forward with ferocious speed, but Matthew didn't flinch. He drew his sword in one fluid motion, swinging it with calculated precision. The fireball split clean in half, its flames dissipating harmlessly.
Damon staggered back, stunned. "W-What the—?"
Before he could finish, Matthew closed the gap between them. Damon barely managed to summon more fireballs, but Matthew dodged and parried them with ease, his movements swift and unrelenting.
In one final strike, Matthew spun his blade, hitting Damon with the flat side of the sword. The blow sent him crashing to the ground, gasping for air. Matthew stood over him, pressing the blade's edge against his neck.
"Get in my way again," Matthew hissed, his voice icy, "and I won't hesitate to kill you next time."
Damon's bravado crumbled. Tears streamed down his face as Matthew sheathed his sword and walked away without looking back.
A Town's Hatred
As Matthew walked through the streets, the whispers and glares of the townsfolk followed him like a shadow.
"That's him… the freak."
"Why does he even come back here? He's a curse."
"Just like his father, useless and dangerous."
The words stung, but he didn't let them show. His grip on the Kismet Bone tightened, the weight of it in his pocket a reminder of his newfound power.
"They'll all regret this," he muttered under his breath. "Every last one of them."
The Secret Lab
Matthew reached his modest home, ignoring the crowd of onlookers that had followed him to his doorstep. Once inside, he bolted the door and moved a heavy bookshelf aside, revealing a hidden passage.
The passage led to a staircase that descended into his secret lab, a stark contrast to the simple house above. Bright lights illuminated shelves lined with books, strange tools, and vials of glowing liquids. In the center of the room was his experiment table, its surface covered with notes and ingredients.
Matthew began preparing the potion he had envisioned for years. Carefully, he mixed the ingredients, each one reacting with a faint glow. Finally, he retrieved the Kismet Bone and held it above the bubbling mixture.
"This is it," he whispered, dropping the bone into the concoction.
The reaction was immediate. The liquid glowed white-hot, the brightness so intense it felt as if a second sun had been born in the room. Matthew grabbed a syringe, drawing the radiant liquid into it.
Taking a deep breath, he tied a strap around his arm, exposing the largest vein.
"Here goes nothing."
He plunged the syringe into his arm.
The pain was instant and overwhelming. It felt as if his blood was boiling, his veins on fire. He collapsed to the floor, writhing and screaming as the transformation overtook him. His chest heaved, his vision blurred, and his mind felt like it was splitting apart.
Minutes passed, or perhaps hours—it was impossible to tell. Then, as suddenly as it began, the pain stopped.
Matthew slowly got to his feet, his body trembling but alive. He extended his hand without thinking, and with ease, he summoned a floating bone. It hovered in the air, responding to his every thought. He willed it to spin, to dance, to strike—it obeyed without hesitation.
A grin spread across his face. "I finally did it."
He summoned more bones, testing his control, reveling in the raw power coursing through him. Then, he focused harder, summoning a new creation. A floating skull materialized, its hollow eyes glowing with energy.
When the skull's mouth opened, it fired a white-hot beam that incinerated everything in its path, leaving a charred mark on the lab's wall. Matthew laughed.
"I'll call it a Gaster Blaster."
He spent hours perfecting his abilities, summoning more skulls, honing his control. When he was satisfied, he ascended the stairs, sealing the lab behind him.
Retribution
As he stepped outside, the crowd had grown larger, their insults louder and crueler.
"Get out of here, freak!"
"You'll never belong!"
"Go join your father in the dirt!"
Matthew raised his hand, summoning a volley of bones. Without a word, he unleashed them on the closest villager, piercing their body with brutal precision. The crowd fell silent, staring in horror at the lifeless corpse.
"Anyone else?" Matthew said, his voice cold and mocking.
Panic erupted, but there was no escape. Bones rained from the sky, striking down everyone in sight. Those who tried to run were stopped by floating skulls, their beams reducing them to ash.
When the chaos ended, the streets were littered with corpses. Blood pooled around Matthew's feet, but he stood tall, his expression calm.
He laughed, the sound echoing through the empty streets.
"They feared me," he said, his voice low. "Now they'll learn to respect me. This is only the beginning."
Matthew turned his gaze toward the horizon. There was one more target—the company responsible for his father's death.
"They took everything from me. Now it's my turn."
Will they survive? Or will they face the wrath of the monster they created? You already know. Wait and find out.