The slave market buzzes with a sinister energy, the cries of the captives mingling with the jeers of their captors. In the midst of this chaos, Lira, a young girl with a fierce spirit, stands among the other slaves. Despite the chains that bind her, there is a fire in her eyes that refuses to be extinguished.
Around her, the other slaves are a mix of the broken and the defiant. Lira speaks softly to them, her voice a beacon of hope in the gloom. "My brother is strong," she says, her voice steady despite the tremor of fear she feels. "He'll come for us. We just have to hold on."
An older man beside her, his face lined with years of hardship, looks at her with a mixture of pity and admiration. "Child, you've got more fight in you than most, but hope is a dangerous thing here. They'll break you if you're not careful."
Lira's jaw tightens, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I won't let them. I won't let them win."
The hours pass in a tense haze, the weight of impending doom hanging heavy over the market. Suddenly, the air shifts as the butler reappears, his demeanor smug and cruel. Behind him, Young Master Yun strides into view, his presence like a dark cloud over the already grim proceedings.
Yun's reputation is well-known—third in line in the Yun family, one of the most feared in the Bilux galaxy. His eyes, cold and calculating, sweep over the slaves. When they land on Lira, something flickers in his gaze, a cruel curiosity.
"And who is this?" Yun's voice is like ice, cutting through the market's din.
The butler steps forward, a twisted smile on his face. "A troublesome one, Young Master. She's been riling up the others, filling their heads with thoughts of escape."
Yun's interest piques, and he takes a step closer to Lira. She glares up at him, defiance burning in her eyes. "You think you're powerful," she spits, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. "But you're just a coward hiding behind your family's name. My brother will come, and he'll destroy you and everything you stand for."
A hush falls over the market. The other slaves shrink back, fear in their eyes. The older man beside Lira tries to pull her back, but she shakes him off, standing her ground. Yun's expression darkens, his amusement turning to cold fury.
"You dare speak to me like that?" His voice is a deadly whisper. He pulls out a sleek, black pistol, its surface reflecting the harsh lights of the market. He aims it directly at Lira.
The slaves around her cry out, some pleading, others weeping in fear, but Lira doesn't flinch. She stares him down, her heart pounding in her chest, but her resolve unbroken. "You'll see," she says, her voice steady. "You'll see what real power is when my brother comes."
Yun's lip curls into a sneer. Without another word, he pulls the trigger. The shot rings out, echoing in the silence that follows. Lira gasps as the bullet hits, her small body crumpling to the ground.
The market falls into a stunned silence. The other slaves are frozen, their expressions a mix of horror and disbelief. The older man, tears streaming down his weathered face, falls to his knees beside Lira, his hands trembling as he reaches out to her.
Yun holsters his weapon, his expression indifferent, as if he's just swatted a fly. "Let that be a lesson to the rest of you," he says coldly, turning to leave. The butler follows him, a satisfied smirk on his face.
As Yun and his entourage disappear into the shadows, the slaves slowly begin to move again, their whispered prayers and muffled sobs filling the air. The older man gently cradles Lira's lifeless body, his shoulders shaking with grief.
And then, from the edge of the market, Max arrives. He sees the scene before him, his heart lurching in his chest as he spots Lira on the ground. His breath catches, and he rushes forward, pushing through the crowd of slaves.
When he reaches her, he falls to his knees, his hands hovering over her as if afraid to touch, as if touching her would make it all too real. "Lira…" he whispers, his voice cracking with pain.
Tears spill from his eyes as he gently takes her into his arms, her body limp and cold. The world around him fades, and all he can see is the sister of his, a girl he swore to protect, lying lifeless in his arms.
The slave market is eerily quiet now, the aftermath of violence still lingering in the air. Max stands in the center, cradling Lira's lifeless body, his heart a tempest of sorrow and rage. Her defiant words echo in his mind, fueling the fire that burns within him. He gently lays her down, his hands trembling, before rising to his feet.
He turns toward the path Yun and his men took, his eyes narrowing with a deadly focus. The rage inside him reaches a boiling point, and without a word, he moves. Each step he takes echoes with the weight of his fury, resonating through the desolate market.
Yun and his entourage are only a short distance away, unaware of the storm about to crash down on them. They laugh and exchange cruel jests, mocking the girl who dared defy them. Yun's smirk fades when he senses a presence behind him, turning to see Max striding toward them, his face a mask of cold, merciless intent.
"What's this?" Yun sneers, his hand going to his weapon. "Another fool come to challenge me?"
Max says nothing. He stops a few paces away from them, his eyes locking onto Yun's with a gaze so intense it makes the Young Master hesitate. Yun's men, sensing the danger, reach for their weapons, but they're too slow.
Max's hand moves in a blur, and in an instant, a pulse of energy erupts from him. The force is cataclysmic, a blinding surge of power that vaporizes everything in its path. Yun and his men don't even have time to scream. The market is bathed in light as the energy consumes them, leaving nothing but a scorched crater where they once stood.
As the light fades, the silence is deafening. The market, once a place of despair and suffering, is now devoid of any life. Max stands alone, his chest heaving with the aftermath of his unleashed power. His eyes fall to the ground where Yun and his men once stood, now nothing more than dust scattered in the wind.
The victory is hollow. Max turns away, his steps heavy as he returns to Lira's body. He kneels beside her, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice breaking. "I should have been faster… I should have been here."
The weight of his guilt crushes him as he sits beside her, his mind replaying the moments he was too late. He blames himself, his heart aching with a grief that feels like it will never fade.
Hours seem to pass as Max sits in silence, his thoughts a dark spiral. The sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the now-quiet market. It's then that he notices an old man standing nearby, watching him with calm, wise eyes.
The old man, his face lined with age and experience, approaches slowly, stopping a short distance away. "You did what you had to," he says gently, his voice carrying the weight of years. "But that burden you carry—it's heavy, isn't it?"
Max looks up, his eyes red and hollow. "She's dead because I was too late. I should have saved her."
The old man nods, his expression somber. "You're right, young man. But tell me, what is your dream?"
Max is taken aback by the question, his thoughts disjointed. "Dream? I don't know. I've been fighting for so long fighting for bread and butter, jobs and many more, I don't know if I have a dream anymore."
The old man sighs, a sadness in his eyes. "We all start with dreams, but time has a way of stealing them from us. Time is both our friend and our enemy, you see. It gives us the chance to grow, to change, but it also takes away everything if we let it."
Max listens, the old man's words sinking deep into his weary mind. "What am I supposed to do now? I failed her… I failed the promise I had given her."
The old man walks closer, placing a hand on Max's shoulder. "You are not the first to fail, and you won't be the last. But remember this: in a hundred years, none of us will be remembered. Not you, not me, not even her. What matters is what we do with the time we have now."
Max stares at the ground, the weight of the old man's words pressing on him. "So, what? I just keep going, even if it all ends the same?"
The old man gives a small, sad smile. "That's the curse and the blessing of life. We fight not because we'll be remembered, but because it's the right thing to do. Your dream, whatever it was, doesn't have to be lost. But you have to decide what you'll do with the time you have left."
Max looks back at Lira, his heart heavy but his resolve slowly solidifying. He knows what he has to do, but the pain remains, a constant reminder of what he's lost. "And if I can't do it?"
The old man nods, understanding. "Then you'll fail. But at least you'll have tried. That's all any of us can do, even i failed at many things in my life ,i saw my wife ,son die before me so even i am trying to do something that will make them proud,you see I had a friend that was always after riches and in death he took nothing,now nobody remember him how wealthy he was,nor any body care,he had done many things which in our village considered legendary feats but along time it vanishes like a smoke of dust."
The two of them sit in silence for a moment, the sun dipping below the horizon. Finally, Max begins to dig, his hands moving through the earth as he creates a grave for Lira. The old man watches, silent and respectful.
When the grave is finished, Max places Lira's body gently into the ground, covering her with the earth as tears slip down his face. He kneels beside the grave, his heart heavy with both grief and determination.
The old man places a hand on Max's shoulder again. "You're a good young man. Don't lose sight of that, no matter how dark the road becomes."
Max nods, his eyes still on the grave. "Thank you," he whispers, though he knows the pain will stay with him for a long time.
As the night falls, Max stands, his heart still heavy, but his path a little clearer. The old man watches him go, a silent understanding passing between them. The market is silent now, a place where memories linger, but life moves on.