Normally instigation would occur through the new technology, it caused no pain but it put someone in a state of between life and death. But Robert's instigation had occurred due to his father's savage beating.
A young emerged from the grand mansion, its opulence stark against his modest attire. His clothes, simple and worn, hang loosely on his frame. Each step down the marble staircase seems surreal, the grandeur around him contrasting sharply with his appearance. His head held high, a silent defiance in their eyes. Despite the disparity, there's an air of dignity about him, as if they own every inch of that mansion, regardless of what they wear.
Robert, sometime left the mansion, dressed as a commoner just to head to his favoured spot, If people knew who he was then it could be quite troublesome for someone him. The forest had been alive with the sounds of nature as he moved through the underbrush, each step deliberate and purposeful. His clothes, though simple, were designed for agility and comfort. Muscles had rippled under his skin, a testament to their physical conditioning. Sweat had beaded on his forehead, but his focus remained unbroken. he had leaped over fallen logs, weaved through trees, and pushed his body to the limit, every movement a blend of strength and grace. The forest, with its dappled light and shadow, had become a natural training ground for Robert, echoing with the rhythm of his intense regimen. Quite the scene of dedication and harmony with nature.
After his training he walked up to a broad and tall tree, he grabbed hold of the rough bark, his small hands finding purchase on the sturdy branches. Each step up had been a test of balance and strength, his sneakers slipping slightly on the moss-covered wood. His breath had come in steady puffs, eyes focused on the highest branches swaying gently in the breeze. With a determined look, he had pulled himself higher, muscles straining but sure. Leaves had rustled around him as he climbed, the forest floor growing distant beneath his feet. Finally, he had reached a broad branch.
He removed the book from his pocket
[would you like to learn the ability]
[yes] [no]
the mechanical voice inside his head said. He looked confused, he thought those bandages were responsible for the transparent screen, "an ability? what a joke" he said to himself returning the book back in his pocket. Robert's father heated him, that was no secret. Ever since his mother died giving birth to him, his father has always blamed him for it 'what if its an ability?' he asked himself removing the book from his pocket.
It was getting dark, he got back down holding the book, a striking figure with his black hair falling effortlessly over his forehead. In his hands, he held the old pocket book, its leather cover worn with age. The pages, yellowed and delicate, were filled with words in a language he couldn't decipher. His brow furrowed in concentration as he scanned the text, the unfamiliar script both intriguing and frustrating. His eyes, deep and curious, reflected a mixture of fascination and determination. Despite the mystery, he couldn't help but feel a connection to the book, as if it held secrets waiting just for him.
[yes]
His body hovered a few feet off the ground, his black hair gently swaying with the motion. His shadow had risen from the earth, twisting and coiling around his body like living tendrils. His eye, glowing a vivid purple, cast an eerie light that cut through the darkness. The contrast between his handsome, youthful face and the otherworldly scene unfolding around him was striking. The air had crackled with energy, each moment filled with a sense of both wonder and foreboding. It was a sight both captivating and unsettling, a blend of beauty and power.
He gently got back on the ground his eyes the normal black color. He felt a strange new energy energy running through his veins.
[You have successfully evolved into a myrmidon]
[Strength 10/20]
[Speed 10/20]
[Agility 10/20]
[Charm 10/20]
[Stamina 10/20]
Robert's body felt light and his body senses seemed to have improved too. On his way back home. He had ventured into the forest, his handsome features barely visible in the dim moonlight. His black hair had fallen over his forehead, casting shadows on his face. Each step had been cautious, the eerie silence amplifying the sound of his footsteps. The trees, gnarled and twisted, had loomed over him, their branches like skeletal fingers reaching out. A dense fog had curled around his legs, making the path ahead uncertain. His eyes, sharp and alert, had darted around, trying to pierce the darkness. Despite the fear that had gripped him, there had been a determined set to his jaw, a resolve to face whatever horrors the night held.
Then the unexpected happened. Robert had stood in the dim light, every muscle tensed as he sensed movement in the shadows. Wolves began to creep out of the darkness, their eyes glowing with a menacing light. Each step they took was slow and deliberate, their growls low and threatening. The boy's breath had quickened, but his stance was firm. He had clenched his fists, ready to defend himself. His eyes, sharp and determined, never left the pack as they approached, the forest around them eerily silent. It had been a tense standoff, the boy poised for the inevitable clash with the wild creatures.