After the fight, Kael thought maybe, just maybe, the villagers would open up again, that they'd forgive the fear and betrayal he had caused. After all, without him, they were vulnerable, their defenses fragile against nearly any attack. But forgiveness wasn't coming as easily as he had hoped.
Kael sat alone in his workshop, staring blankly at the small suit of armor he had started working on when he first arrived in the village. His hands moved mechanically, shaping pieces of metal and connecting intricate parts, but his mind was miles away. Deep down, he was starting to question why he continued to act this way, why he felt like a stranger in his own body.
His lips curled in frustration. Why do I keep doing this?
His body would betray him, saying things he didn't mean, acting in ways that weren't truly him. It was like he wasn't fully in control.
Then came the voice. Dark, low, and menacing, echoing in the back of his mind. "Kael, you're not in control. I know everything about you. The crystal is taking over. I know you tried to use its power—I felt your emotions. Your strength will never be enough. Keep trying to stop the inevitable, and keep suffering... for me." The voice chuckled eerily, each word cutting deeper.
"Huh, yeah, sure. Fuck off, won't you?" Kael muttered, but even as he spoke, he knew those words weren't truly his. His body was forcing him to keep up the façade, to act tough, act as though he was that reliable brute, the one with a hidden soft spot he refused to acknowledge, even to himself.
His hand shook as he tried to continue tinkering with his project. He had to keep his mind busy, had to keep thinking, creating, or he might lose his grip on reality. The crystal in him was pushing him to make more, to build endlessly. It promised power, but at what cost? Was it even what he wanted? No, all he ever wanted was to help people. Yet, the crystal's demands kept whispering, corrupting his thoughts with the endless greed for knowledge and creation.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Hey, Kael?" Maren's gentle voice broke through the quiet. "I came over to ask... do you want to come eat with us?"
For a moment, Kael froze, staring at the door. His hand trembled again. A war waged inside him—his mind wanted to join her, to reconnect, but his body... his body told him to stay, to keep working. "Not right now. I'm... busy," he said coldly, though his voice wavered just slightly. "I'll come when I'm done."
Maren lingered at the door for a moment, concern written all over her face. "Alright, just... make sure you're eating. Don't want you dying on me," she said softly, before walking away.
As she left, Kael's shaking stopped. The fear melted, replaced with the numbness that working on his machines always seemed to bring. He drowned himself in his work, creating more and more, hoping that the act of building would drown out the noise inside his head.
Three days later, the village had grown quieter, and Kael still hadn't emerged.
"Hey Maren, is Kael still locked up in that workshop of his?" Jorvan asked as he sat at the inn, his voice heavy with concern.
"I haven't checked in on him recently," Maren replied, her brow furrowed in worry. "He was still there three days ago, working on that suit of his."
Jorvan sighed, setting his mug down with a heavy thud. "Poor kid," he said, his voice softer now. "There's something broken in him. You can see it... I've seen it before. Sometimes, you just have to let go of whatever's weighing you down. Otherwise, it'll eat you alive."
Maren shook her head, her eyes filled with sorrow. "He's just a boy... he's got so much ahead of him. He just needs to let someone in, let someone help him carry that burden." She glanced toward the back of the inn, where Amelia stood quietly listening, her face a mix of sadness and confusion. She hadn't stopped thinking about Kael since the day he left, and the music box he promised her had been locked in his workshop ever since. She had hoped he'd at least give her that—some sign that he hadn't forgotten.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Hey, Mr. Kael, can I come in? You said you'd fix my music box!" Amelia's small voice called through the door, impatient and a little frustrated.
Inside the dimly lit workshop, Kael jolted upright, startled by the knock. His hands, already unsteady from the tension that never seemed to leave him, began to shake. He rushed to grab Amelia's music box from the cluttered shelf, nearly knocking over a stack of metal parts in the process. Fumbling with the latch, he darted back to the door, opened it just wide enough to hand her the box, and quickly shut it again, locking himself back inside his world of metal and gears.
"Hey! Mr. Kael, you didn't even say hi!" Amelia's voice came again, this time full of childish indignation. When he didn't respond, she huffed and, determined not to be ignored, ran around the side of the workshop. She knew there was a window in the back, one that wasn't locked. With surprising agility, she slid it open and quietly clambered through, landing softly inside the dim workshop.
"Mr. Kael!" she called out from behind him. Kael spun around instinctively, his hand reaching for a weapon he'd built, a crude gun. He pointed it toward the sudden movement before realizing—his heart skipping a beat—it was only Amelia. He quickly lowered the weapon, his face stricken with guilt.
"I-I didn't mean to," he stammered, his voice rough. "I just reacted."
Amelia stood there unfazed, her wide eyes full of trust. "It's alright, Mr. Kael. I know you wouldn't hurt me." Her gaze shifted to the workbench where bits of metal and strange wires were scattered. "Whoa, what's that? Is that what you're working on?"
Kael blinked, still catching his breath. He followed her gaze to the armor he was crafting—something sleek and futuristic, the pieces barely fitting together yet. "It's... kinetic armor," he muttered, struggling to find the right words. "When I get hit, it stores the energy. I can release it back whenever I need."
Amelia stared at the armor with wide-eyed fascination, though it was clear she didn't fully understand. "That's cool!" she said in a monotone voice that still somehow carried excitement. She glanced up at him, her gaze softening as she noticed his trembling hands. "Why are you shaking, Mr. Kael?"
Kael looked down at his hands, ashamed of the way they quivered. "It's nothing," he muttered, trying to hide them behind his back.
Amelia stepped closer, her small fingers brushing against his, and Kael froze. "Thank you for fixing my music box," she said softly, her voice gentle. It was such a simple, heartfelt gratitude, but it broke something inside him.
Kael's tense shoulders slowly relaxed, the weight of his fear easing just a little. Her words, her presence—so pure, so innocent—began to quiet the storm inside him.
"Don't be scared, Mr. Kael," Amelia said, her voice steady and full of surprising wisdom for her young age. "Challenges are like big hills. You have to climb them to see how far you've come. You're strong enough—I know it."
Her words pierced through the wall Kael had built around himself. He felt something shift inside—a loosening of the knot of fear that had tightened for so long. One tear slipped down his face, but he didn't try to hide it. Slowly, he knelt down and wrapped Amelia in a hug, his arms gentle, as if she were the only thing keeping him grounded.
"You're right," he whispered, his voice softening. "You're a smart kid, you know that?"
Amelia smiled, squeezing him tightly before stepping back. Kael's hands had stopped shaking, not because of the armor or the crystal, but because of her—a small girl's kindness, her faith in him. For the first time in what felt like ages, Kael felt something other than fear. He felt hope.
As Amelia skipped out the door, her music box clutched tightly in her hands, Kael sat down at his workbench. His gaze drifted toward the half-finished armor with a small slot for the crystal in the center, but he didn't feel the same urgency to finish it. He let out a long breath, and for the first time in a long time, his hands were still.
The voice echoed through the dimly lit workshop, a low, menacing growl that reverberated through the cold metal walls, dripping with malice.
"Oh, our little Kael is finally growing up," the voice sneered. "Yeah right, you little shit. I know what you're trying to do. I know that crystal gives you the knowledge for these pathetic little art projects."
The voice slithered through the room like poison, taunting Kael, a dark presence looming just out of reach. Shadows flickered as if alive, mocking him with their shifting shapes. The air thickened, choking.
"Just remember," the voice continued, its tone like nails on glass, "your toys will never be enough. They'll never be able to kill me or my army."
Kael gritted his teeth, his heart pounding as he glared at the rows of weapons he'd been crafting. Cannons, guns, and blades, each designed with precision—each one deadlier than the last. Yet, all he heard in that moment was the voice dismissing them as mere toys.
A smirk crept across his face, though it didn't reach his eyes. He could feel the rage boiling beneath his skin, the heat of it almost unbearable, but it fueled him. His pulse steadied, no longer filled with fear but with something sharper. Confidence.
"Come at me then, you cowardly bastard," Kael spat, his voice cutting through the thick air. "Why not send some of your minions my way while you're at it? I could use the practice."
His fingers reached for the armor on the table, the smooth, sleek plates shimmering faintly under the dim light. With practiced movements, he slid the pieces onto his body, the cold metal fitting perfectly as if it were part of him. The kinetic armor locked into place with a soft hiss, the weight of it familiar yet empowering.
His hand closed around the pouch at his side, pulling out the Crystal of Creation. The pale blue glow from the crystal pulsed in his hand like a living heart. As soon as he touched it, Kael could feel the hum of power radiating from within, a soft vibration that made the hair on his neck stand on end.
With a deep breath, Kael pressed the crystal against his chestplate.
Boom.
The workshop shook with the force of it. The crystal shot into the center of the armor, embedding itself into the heart of the chestplate. The reaction was instant. A surge of raw, unrelenting power coursed through Kael's body. His armor flared to life, glowing veins of blue energy igniting across the surface like lightning, tracing intricate patterns down his arms and legs. The heat was intense, almost overwhelming, but Kael reveled in it.
The power was undeniable, intoxicating. He could feel the energy flooding his veins, filling him with strength unlike anything he had ever known. The armor pulsed, syncing with his heartbeat, each beat sending a wave of power through his limbs. His muscles coiled with newfound strength, the kinetic armor buzzing with stored energy, ready to unleash.
The voice laughed, a dark, hollow sound, but there was an edge to it now—something less certain.
Kael's eyes burned with fury as he tightened his grip on the gauntlets, the metal humming beneath his touch. "You're wrong," he growled, his voice low but filled with deadly intent. "These aren't toys. This is my weapon. And I will tear through you and every last one of your soldiers with it."
He took a step forward, and the ground beneath his feet trembled, as if the very earth could sense the power radiating from him. The armor thrummed, storing kinetic energy with every movement. The air around him seemed to crackle, filled with a static charge that made the hairs on his arms stand up.
Kael's eyes flicked towards the weapons lining the walls—blades sharp enough to cut through steel, guns capable of tearing through armor, all of them ready, waiting for the battle ahead. But they paled in comparison to the power he now felt coursing through his own body.
Suddenly, there was a shuffling sound outside the workshop. A low growl, followed by the faint scrape of claws on stone.
Kael's lips curled into a predatory grin. "So, you took my challenge."
The door to the workshop rattled as something slammed into it from the other side, a heavy, bone-shaking thud. The ground trembled beneath Kael's feet, but he stood firm, adrenaline surging through him. More growls followed—several this time. The army was here.
Kael strode to the door, his armor glowing brighter with each step, the power building inside him. The air around him seemed to hum with energy, a low, constant buzz that grew louder as the creatures outside continued to batter at the door. With a swift, calculated movement, Kael threw the door open, and the outside world came crashing in.
A flood of grotesque, snarling creatures poured through the doorway, their eyes glowing with malice, claws extended, teeth bared. Their bodies were twisted and malformed, a perverse mockery of the beasts they once were, now enslaved by the same dark force that mocked him.
Kael didn't flinch. The first creature lunged at him, claws swiping through the air. In a fluid motion, Kael sidestepped and slammed his fist into its chest, the kinetic energy stored in his armor exploding on impact. The creature was sent flying backward, crashing into the wall with a sickening crunch.
Before the others could react, Kael charged forward, his movements a blur. Each punch, each strike, released a pulse of kinetic energy that sent the creatures flying, their bodies crumpling under the force of his blows. The armor glowed brighter with every strike, storing and releasing energy in a deadly rhythm.
One of the creatures lunged for him, its jaws wide, but Kael's gauntlet met its throat with a crushing blow, and the creature collapsed in a heap. Another tried to circle behind him, but Kael was faster. He spun around, his foot slamming into the beast with enough force to shatter bones.
As the last creature fell, the voice returned, quieter now, but no less sinister.
"You're stronger than I thought... but not strong enough. Not yet."
Kael stood among the broken bodies of the beasts, his chest heaving, the glow of his armor beginning to dim as the power inside him ebbed. He wiped the blood from his mouth, his eyes burning with the promise of vengeance.
"I don't need to be strong enough," Kael muttered, a dangerous edge to his voice. "I just need to be smarter. And I will be. You can bet on that."
The voice faded, but Kael knew it wouldn't be for long. His enemies were growing bolder, and the battles ahead would be brutal. But now, with the Crystal of Creation embedded in his armor, he had something more than just weapons—he had the power to change everything.
And for the first time, Kael felt ready to embrace it.
[Crystal of Creation]
+ Absolute Creation
Grants the ability to forge anything imaginable, constrained only by physical limits like size and complexity.
+Infinite Creation
Creations are permanent, but each one gradually depletes the crystal's power over time.
+Armor of Power
The strength of the wearer increases exponentially, with enhancements varying based on the weapon equipped. When wielding a weapon, strength can be amplified by up to XX. However, when unarmed, the armor boosts the wearer's power tenfold, granting 10x their normal strength.
+Muscle Creation
Generates enhanced muscles beyond the user's natural limits, creating strength and power where it never existed before.
New Abilities Locked – Awaiting Unlock