Arin took a deep breath as he turned away from the living room, his legs carrying him toward his room with steady determination. The scornful gazes of Celestia and her sons burned into his back, but he refused to let them weigh him down. Each step felt like reclaiming a piece of himself that they had tried to crush.
But just as he reached the base of the stairs, something cold and invisible wrapped tightly around his torso. It was as if an unseen snake coiled around him, dragging him backward with alarming strength. He stumbled slightly, his feet skidding on the polished floor, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to remain upright. He planted his feet firmly on the ground, refusing to fall.
A mocking chuckle echoed behind him.
"Going somewhere, trash?" Dray's voice was a deep rumble laced with cruelty. He stood with his arms crossed, his sharp features illuminated by the dim light of the room. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, his aura practically oozing dominance.
Arin exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as if brushing off an annoyance. He turned his head slightly, just enough to glance at Dray without giving him the satisfaction of full attention.
"What's wrong?" Dray sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Too scared to answer? Or did the pressure finally get to you? Poor little Arin, still trying to play brave."
Ealric laughed from his perch on the couch, his laughter high-pitched and grating. "I told you, Dray, he's useless. Always was, always will be."
"Enough." Celestia's cold voice cut through the jeers, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "Dray, show him what happens when he disrespects this family. He needs to remember his place."
Dray's smirk widened as he raised one hand, his fingers twitching ever so slightly. The air in the room shifted, growing heavy with an unnatural stillness. Arin felt the change immediately—an invisible pressure pushing down on his chest, making it harder to breathe.
Dray tilted his head, his sharp eyes glinting with malice. "Let's give you a little reminder, shall we?"
He extended his fingers fully, his palm facing upward. The air around him seemed to ripple as if responding to an unspoken command. Slowly, he clenched his fist, and Arin felt the invisible grip around his torso tighten. The pressure was suffocating, threatening to crush him where he stood.
Arin exhaled sharply, forcing himself to stay calm. He planted his feet more firmly, his muscles straining against the invisible force.
Dray's eyes narrowed. "What's this? Standing already? Have you been working out, Arin? Or is it just the stubbornness of a cockroach?"
Arin straightened slightly, his lips curling into a smirk. "If I'm a cockroach, then what does that make you? A failure who can't even squash one?"
Ealric gasped audibly, his eyes wide with shock. Celestia's expression darkened, her jaw tightening.
Dray's smirk faltered for a moment, then returned with a dangerous edge. "You've got guts. I'll give you that. But guts won't save you."
With a dramatic flourish, Dray extended both arms outward. The air around him swirled, forming faint, shimmering distortions as if reality itself was bending under his will. He clapped his hands together sharply, and the swirling air coalesced into a concentrated mass above his palms.
Dray was a grade-3 ability user, specializing in aerokinesis, the manipulation of air. His power wasn't flashy like fire or destructive like lightning, but it was deceptive, cunning, and dangerous. He could twist the wind into an invisible force, suffocate enemies, or strike them down without warning. Many who faced him never even saw the attack coming.
"This," he said, his voice cold and menacing, "is what true power looks like."
With a flick of his wrist, he sent the compressed air hurtling toward Arin. The invisible force struck with the speed of a bullet, slamming into Arin's chest. The impact was powerful enough to make him stagger back, but he remained upright, his feet sliding only slightly on the ground.
Arin winced but quickly recovered, brushing off his shirt as if dusting away dirt. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "That's it? I expected more from the mighty Dray."
Dray's jaw tightened, his pride taking a visible hit. He clenched his fists, summoning more energy. The wind around him howled louder this time, whipping through the room with a ferocity that made even Celestia and Ealric shift uncomfortably in their seats.
"Enough playing," Dray growled. "You'll regret mocking me."
He raised his hand high, gathering the wind into a dense, swirling orb of energy. With a sharp downward motion, he sent it crashing toward Arin like an invisible wrecking ball.
The force struck Arin hard, making him take a half-step back, but it failed to knock him down. He let out a low, mocking laugh, locking eyes with Dray. "You're slipping, Dray. Maybe you're not as strong as you think."
Dray's face flushed with anger. He stepped forward, his movements deliberate and menacing. The air around him grew colder, and his hands began to move in fluid, calculated motions, as though conducting an orchestra. The wind obeyed him like a loyal servant, swirling and building with renewed intensity.
Celestia's eyes narrowed as she observed the scene. Her gaze flickered between Dray and Arin, suspicion brewing in her mind. Why isn't he falling? Is Dray holding back, or has this boy somehow grown stronger?
"Don't think you've won," Dray snarled, his voice shaking with frustration. He clapped his hands together again, sending another invisible punch toward Arin.
But Arin didn't flinch. He stood his ground, his smirk unshaken. "I'm not the little boy you used to bully anymore," he said, his voice steady and confident. "Try harder."
Dray's fists trembled, but he quickly masked his anger with a sneer. "You're nothing, Arin. You'll always be nothing."
Dray frowned when he saw Arin's lack of reaction. His sneer deepened, but beneath it, there was a flicker of unease. What? No begging? No trembling in fear? Did the little rat finally grow a spine?
Arin didn't respond. His gaze was fixed forward, and he resumed his slow, deliberate climb up the stairs as though Dray's words were nothing more than background noise. His footsteps echoed in the oppressive silence, each one a subtle declaration of defiance.
The silence was like a slap to Dray's ego. His brow twitched as he barked, "Hey! I'm talking to you!"
Still, Arin didn't stop. But after a few more steps, he paused, turned his head slightly, and glanced back with an amused smirk that oozed indifference. "Oh, were you? I thought I heard the wind howling."
A collective hush fell over the room, broken only by Ealric's sharp intake of breath. Dray's jaw clenched so tightly it looked as if his teeth might crack. His pride was visibly bruised, and a faint flush of anger colored his cheeks.
The tension in the air thickened like an approaching storm. Celestia's cold gaze flickered between her sons, suspicion glinting in her eyes. "Dray," she said with a low, commanding tone, "perhaps you're not trying hard enough. Surely, my son isn't showing mercy to the likes of him?"
Dray's smirk returned, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Mercy? To this piece of trash?" He clapped his hands together sharply, the sound reverberating through the room. The air around him shifted immediately, rippling with an ominous energy. It was as if the room itself was holding its breath, waiting for what would come next.
He extended his hands outward, his fingers splayed as he gathered the surrounding wind. The air coiled around his body, creating faint distortions in the space around him. It was invisible but undeniably dangerous. With a flick of his wrist, he compressed the energy into a concentrated strike and hurled it toward Arin.
The invisible force slammed into Arin's back with enough power to send most people flying. The sound of the impact reverberated like a heavy thud, and Arin stumbled slightly, wincing as he planted his feet firmly on the ground. The room held its breath as he straightened, turned his head, and looked over his shoulder with that same infuriating smirk. "That's it?" he taunted, his voice light and mocking. "You're slipping, Dray."
Dray's confidence faltered, his eyes widening briefly in shock before narrowing into a scowl. "You're tougher than you look," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. The admission left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he rolled his shoulders as though shaking off the sting of embarrassment.
Ealric, perched lazily on the couch, snickered nervously. "What's wrong, big brother? Having trouble with the zero-level trash?"
Dray shot his younger brother a venomous glare. "Shut up, Ealric," he snapped, his voice low and dangerous. He turned back to Arin, his fists clenching and unclenching as the air around him began to swirl once more. This time, it wasn't a mere ripple—it was a vortex, pulling the very oxygen from the room and replacing it with an oppressive weight.
"I'll wipe that smirk off your face," Dray growled. His voice was a quiet promise of pain. He raised both hands, drawing on the energy with more focus. The swirling wind around him thickened, the pressure growing so intense that even Celestia and Ealric shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
The air itself seemed to hum with energy as Dray launched another strike. This one was sharper, faster, and more forceful than before, aimed directly at Arin's chest.
The impact landed squarely, forcing Arin back a step, but he still refused to fall. He exhaled sharply, his body straining against the pressure. Slowly, deliberately, he dusted himself off as though brushing away dirt. His chuckle was low, almost playful. "Looks like I'm not the little boy you used to bully anymore, Dray. Try harder."
Dray's face turned a dangerous shade of red, his hands trembling at his sides. He wasn't used to this. Arin had always been the one to flinch, to grovel, to cower beneath his strength. This wasn't the same boy—and it infuriated him.
Celestia's brows furrowed, her sharp gaze fixed on Arin. Her mind churned with questions, suspicion growing with every passing moment.
Dray, oblivious to his mother's scrutiny, took a step forward, his eyes blazing with frustration and fury. He stretched out his hands again, his fingers moving in fluid motions as though conducting an unseen orchestra. The swirling vortex of air grew louder, whipping through the room with enough force to send loose papers flying and rattle the picture frames on the walls.
"You want harder?" Dray snarled. "Fine. Let's see you survive this!"
He clapped his hands together sharply, the sound echoing like a thunderclap. The vortex condensed into a single, devastating force and shot toward Arin like an invisible cannonball.
Arin braced himself. The strike hit him with the force of a battering ram, knocking the breath from his lungs and sending him staggering back several steps. For a moment, his knees wavered—but he didn't fall. He straightened once more, his smirk now replaced with a cold, defiant glare.
"Is that all you've got?" he said, his voice steady despite the strain in his body. "No wonder they call you second-rate."
Dray froze, his hands still poised mid-attack. The insult hit its mark, slicing through his pride like a knife. The room was deathly silent as everyone processed what they had just witnessed.
Ealric broke the silence with a nervous laugh, his voice high-pitched. "Big brother… are you seriously losing to him?"
Dray's fists trembled, but he quickly masked his anger with a sneer. He opened his mouth to retort, but before he could speak, Celestia stood abruptly, her sharp voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Enough."
Dray, unwilling to let his humiliation show, straightened his posture and sneered. "Don't get cocky, Arin. You're nothing. You'll always be nothing."
Arin chuckled again, the sound unnervingly calm. "Keep telling yourself that, Dray. Maybe one day, you'll believe it."
As Arin turned to climb the stairs once more, a voice chimed in his earpiece. It was monotone and mechanical, but it made his blood run cold.
-[System disengage in the next 20 seconds.]-
His breath hitched, and his steps faltered. He had known this moment was coming, but the reality of it still hit him like a brick. The system—his secret ally, the source of his recent strength—was about to shut down, leaving him vulnerable.
-[19... 18... 17...]-
The countdown continued, but Arin's mind raced. He couldn't afford to lose focus now, not in front of them.
-[10... 9... 8...]-
Dray, noticing Arin's distracted state, smirked. "What's wrong? Finally realizing your place?" He summoned another burst of wind, larger and more aggressive than the last.
-[3... 2...]-
The force slammed into Arin's side just as the countdown hit zero. The system deactivated, and all the strength and resilience it had granted him vanished in an instant.
Arin collapsed to the floor, his body going limp as darkness enveloped him.
Dray's triumphant laugh echoed in the silence. "And there it is. Back where you belong—on the ground, like the trash you are."
But as Celestia watched the scene unfold, her satisfaction was tempered by unease. What was that? she thought, her sharp mind already piecing together the puzzle. Something's different about him.