Nero POV
Babylon loomed ahead like a giant nightlight, if nightlights were the size of cities and promised equal parts "Come on in!" and "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."
The whole place glowed brighter than any fire breath I had ever seen, making me wonder if anyone ever got any sleep around here.
A massive grey wall circled the city, towering over everything, except for an even taller tower, like it was compensating for something.
I sighed, tugging at a lock of my wild green hair. "Babylon," I muttered, my golden eyes reflecting the shimmering light from the two enormous metal doors at the entrance.
Those doors were a real piece of work—covered in carvings of battles, beasts, and flames. It was like the city was bragging, "Check out all the wars we've survived!"
"Hey, kid," a gruff voice interrupted my architectural critique. I turned to see a guy in a beat-up black uniform, looking about as enthusiastic as a sloth on sedatives. His face was half-hidden under a hood, probably to hide his expression of utter boredom. "Welcome to Babylon, the City of Lights. Name, Devourer class, and rank. No Devourers, no entry. Housing and war conscription are mandatory. No exceptions."
I glanced behind me at the line of people, all wearing expressions that ranged from "I might throw up" to "I might throw a punch."
Great. I swallowed hard, trying to calm the storm brewing inside me. My palms itched, and I could feel my power buzzing just beneath my skin, eager to make an appearance.
"Name?" the guard pressed, his eyebrow doing a little dance of impatience.
"I'm Nero," I said, trying to sound confident but it came out meeker than I wanted it to since I wasn't used to speaking in english. "Drake class, Neophyte rank."
The guard's eyes narrowed as he scribbled on his clipboard. I took a deep breath and let my power loose. Green gauntlets of twisted vines and thorns exploded around my hands, creeping up my arms like nature's embrace, I only truly felt like me when I was using my power. The ground at my feet decided to join the party, cracking open as vines snaked upwards.
The guard nodded, looking about as impressed as if I'd just told him I could tie my own shoes. "Perfect," he drawled. "An elemental. We could use more of those."
He turned and shouted to someone in the back, "Mira! Got a new recruit for you!"
A woman pushed her way forward, and let me tell you, she was... different. Her hair was the color of tree bark, pulled back in a way that suggested she'd lost a fight with a tornado. Her eyes were like mine—molten gold—but that's where the similarities ended.
She moved like she owned the place, wearing a black leather jacket over a green shirt with Babylon's logo—a spiral tower with a dragon wrapped around it, reaching for the sun.
Looking at the dragon coiled around the tower I felt anger rising in me, but i quickly simmered it after all I wasn't my brothers who would explode (quite literally) at the slightest amount of anger.
"I'll take him," she said, her voice sharp enough to cut diamonds. "We needed an elemental in my platoon. His timing couldn't be better." Her eyes flicked to my gauntlets, then back to my face, like she was mentally measuring me for a coffin.
I pointed at her, unable to hide my amazement. "You."
She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, me. You got a problem with that?"
I shook my head, remembering that Mother was also female and could probably bench-press a mountain. Maybe it was the same for human women?
I followed her through the gates, feeling like we were being swallowed by a city-sized fire breath. In the center stood a massive building of dark metal—a fortress that looked like it was trying to stab the sky with its twisted spires. My heart did a little gymnastics routine as I stared at it, knowing that's where I'd find what I came for, my mission.
'Mother, I'll free Grandfather soon,' I thought, my eyes glued to the metal monstrosity.
The streets were wilder than my hair on a humid day. People rushed around like their pants were on fire, each one on their own impossible mission.
Devourers were everywhere, some showing off their powers in courtyards, others whispering in alleys giving people different things, I guess they were exchanging goods like mom did with some of our brethren every once in a while.
Neon signs flickered from shop windows, advertising everything from "Battle-Ready Armor" to "Sweet Dreams Charms (60% Effective or Your Money Back!)."
Mira led me through this maze, walking like she had a personal vendetta against the ground. I tried to take in every detail while keeping my head down, which resulted in me looking like I had a nervous tick.
"So," Mira said, glancing back at me. "Drake class, huh? How'd you manage that at your age?"
I hesitated, wondering how much to say. "My mother hunted him down for me."
She snorted, sounding like she was trying to hold back a laugh. "Your mother, huh? So you're just a mama's boy. Also, him? You guys could figure out the gender of the beast?"
I blinked, confused. "What's wrong with being a mama's boy? I am a boy, and she is my mother." I caught my reflection in a shop window—my wild green hair and golden eyes staring back at me. "And yes, him. We killed him, and I consumed him. The least I could do is remember him."
Mira slowed down, her eyes darting to the massive building in the center of Babylon. "You're really weird, kid. You know that?"
I tilted my head, wondering if all humans were this... odd. "Mother says I'm perfect just as I am, and she always knows best."
"I really want to meet your mother now," the woman said, laughing so loud I thought she might wake up the entire city.
As we walked, Mira kept talking about places I should visit to "relax" or during "free time," whatever those were. But my eyes kept drifting back to that spiral tower, where Grandfather was imprisoned.
Mira caught me staring. "Interested in Etemenanki? Weird name, I know. We just call it the Tower of Babel, or Tower for short. It powers everything in this city. Quite the structure, isn't it?"
"I don't like it," I said, squinting at the tower-slash-prison.
Mira laughed again. I was starting to think maybe she just really liked the sound of her own voice. "Yeah, I guess it isn't for everyone. But for us Devourers, it's a symbol of hope and power. As long as the Tower stands, Babylon will never fall."
I nodded, not really listening. All I could think was, 'As long as the Tower stands, Grandfather will never be free.' But I kept that thought to myself. After all, Mother always said, "Keep your cards close to your chest, especially when your hand could reshape the world."
I had a feeling Babylon was in for one heck of a reshaping.