Chapter 2: Ashes and Echoes
Brightcite was a city haunted by its own shadow. Once the beating heart of innovation and culture, it now lay in ruin, its skyline jagged and broken against the ashen sky. The streets were littered with debris and forgotten belongings, as if their owners had simply vanished mid-step. This was no ordinary desolation; it was alive with something darker, a pulsing energy that hummed beneath the surface of the devastation.
Sionu trudged through the remains of his city, every step heavy with the memories of a life he no longer recognized. His golden eyes scanned the horizon, catching glimpses of movement—spirits, survivors, or worse, he couldn't tell. The weight of the souls tethered to him made him uneasy, their faint whispers swirling in the back of his mind like static he couldn't turn off.
He stopped at the edge of a collapsed overpass, peering down into a makeshift camp nestled in the ruins below. Survivors had cobbled together homes from scraps of metal and fabric, their fires casting flickering shadows against the crumbling concrete. The sight was both heartening and gut-wrenching.
"They survived this… but for how long?" Sionu thought.
First Encounter with the Ghouls
The quiet was shattered by the sound of shouting and gunfire. Sionu dropped to the ground, his body tensing as he scanned the camp below. A group of figures clad in mismatched armor stormed into the settlement. The survivors scattered, their screams echoing through the ruins as the attackers rounded them up.
Sionu's golden eyes narrowed. He recognized the faint glow emanating from the attackers.
STARBORNE.
The leader of the group stepped forward, a towering man in a skeletal mask with glowing red veins crawling across his exposed arms. His presence was suffocating, his power radiating off him like heatwaves.
"You know the drill," the leader barked. "Pay up, or you're coming with us."
Sionu clenched his fists. This is not my fight, he thought. But as he watched a mother clutch her child, begging for mercy, something inside him snapped.
He leaped from the overpass, landing in the middle of the camp with a crackle of electricity.
"Hey, Boneface," Sionu called out, casually dusting himself off. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"
The gang turned toward him, their weapons raised. The leader tilted his head, a cruel smile spreading beneath his mask.
"Well, well, looks like we've got a wannabe hero," the leader sneered. "You've got guts, kid. Too bad they're about to be splattered all over the pavement."
Sionu smirked, electricity sparking across his hands. "Let's see you try."
The First Battle
The gang charged at him, their movements faster and more precise than normal humans. Sionu dodged the first few strikes, his years as a courier giving him the reflexes to stay one step ahead. He countered with bursts of electricity, sending a few of the attackers sprawling.
But the leader was different. He moved with a fluidity and confidence that spoke of experience, his attacks calculated and devastating. Sionu barely had time to react as the leader closed the distance between them, his glowing fist slamming into Sionu's chest and sending him flying into a collapsed wall.
"Not so tough now, are you?" the leader taunted, his voice dripping with malice.
Sionu groaned, pushing himself to his feet. His vision swam, and his limbs felt heavy.
"You talk too much," he muttered, wiping blood from his lip.
He unleashed a surge of electricity, but the leader absorbed it, his aura flaring brighter.
"Thanks for the boost," the leader said, laughing.
Before Sionu could react, the leader struck again, his blows coming in rapid succession. Sionu collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.
"Consider this a warning," the leader said, standing over him. "Next time, I won't let you off so easy."
The Fall from Grace
The defeat stung, but what came next was worse. As Sionu staggered away from the camp, his body battered and his pride in shreds, the world seemed to close in around him. A nearby screen flickered to life, the face of a grim news anchor filling the frame.
"We interrupt this broadcast with breaking news," the anchor said. "Authorities have confirmed that the series of explosions that devastated major cities around the globe were the result of coordinated attacks involving STARBORNE technology. Evidence suggests the individual responsible for delivering the devices is none other than Sionu Harajin, a former courier and now a STARBORNE carrier himself."
Sionu froze, his blood running cold. The anchor continued, showing surveillance footage of him on his bike, carrying what appeared to be a nondescript package.
"In what is now being called the STARBORNE Era, governments worldwide are struggling to contain the fallout of these attacks. Survivors are urged to report any sightings of Harajin, who is considered extremely dangerous."
The broadcast ended, leaving Sionu staring at his own face on the screen.
They pinned it all on me, he thought, his fists trembling.
The Survivors Turn
When he returned to the camp later that night, the atmosphere had changed. The survivors, who had initially welcomed him as a potential savior, now looked at him with suspicion and anger.
"You're the reason we're here!" one man shouted, stepping forward with a broken pipe in hand. "You killed my family!"
Sionu raised his hands, backing away. "I didn't—"
"Liar!" another voice cried out.
The crowd surged toward him, their faces twisted with rage. Sionu tried to explain, but his words were drowned out by their shouting.
Finally, he unleashed a small burst of electricity, creating a barrier between himself and the mob.
"I'm not your enemy," he said, his voice firm. "But if you don't back off, I will be."
The threat worked, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth. As the crowd dispersed, he felt more isolated than ever.
A Reluctant Anti-Hero
Sionu sat on the edge of a crumbled rooftop, staring out at the ruined city. He didn't want to be a hero. He didn't want to lead or fight or save anyone. All he wanted was to go back to his unremarkable life.
But that life was gone.
The city, the survivors, the world—they needed someone to stand up to the chaos. Sionu didn't know if he was strong enough, but he knew he couldn't keep running forever.
"Troublesome," he muttered, standing up. "Guess I don't have a choice."
To be continued…