Cassian Black awoke to the morning sunlight in his apartment in Xylandor.
It was another day to rise against the norms set by his lineage, another day in a world scorned by the creation that made him question his existence—the strange metallic bracelets known as "Bands."
He rose from under the covers and wiped away the remnants of sleep from his eyes, taking a moment to breathe in the simplicity of his surroundings. The room had been furnished with little more than a simple bed, a desk laden with the vestiges of his studies, and a neatly decorated shelf with old textbooks detailing the history of Zephorya.
Zephorya was the world he lived in, a world ruled by those in power. Combined with diverse cultures shaped by these forces, its main powerhouse is the continent called "Ekoris."
Ekoris is located in the center of the world, constantly bustling with trade and politics; it's the forefront of everything important in Zephorya. No matter where someone goes, all roads eventually lead back to Ekoris, the heart of power and influence in Zephorya.
The continent of Zephorya is divided into four unique lands, each being different from the other.
Ekoris, as many in the world know, is the central hub that delivers commerce and political actions. Surrounding it is Celestine, governed by a structured royal system where nobility and tradition shape how citizens act. There are quite the many opulent places and humble dwellings of the common folk.
To the east lies Vaerlon, where inventions and advancements are always being researched. A land for dreamers and innovative minds. They say if you succeed in Vaerlon, then you have already succeeded most people in Zephorya.
Finally, to the south rests Sunderra. Not many of that area's been explored due to its ancient and mystical landscapes. The runes always reveal the strangest secret, and anything found there has been known to have more value than gold or diamonds.
Together, these continents define Zephorya, each contributing to how the world functions.
This world, in its fabricated ideology of peace and tranquility, was nothing more than a façade—a means of keeping the people under law and subjected to the powers that be.
Cassian slipped out of bed and padded into the living room. There, he launched himself into his morning workout—an intense series of push-ups, squats, and calisthenics.
His grandfather had instilled within him a work ethic like no other, pushing him past his limits until the boundaries of his strength and determination met his elders' expectations.
"You will be strong, Cassian," he remembered his grandfather announcing in a threatening voice. "One day, you'll understand."
The old man had never explained what "strong" truly meant. To Cassian, it went far beyond the simplistic movements of physical prowess. No—in this world, true strength was in the Bands.
Approximately one century ago, various porcelain-like bracelets fell from the sky—the day the fabric of existence splintered into disorder.
The first reported incident happened when a little girl put on one of the bracelets and suddenly caught fire. What shocked many was that she suffered from no apparent consequence.
For every child who had burst into flames, others had become invisible or could manipulate the elements in ways no man could do.
Those artifacts had quickly become beacons of hope to some and harbingers of doom to others. It was a privilege to have acquired one in those times. They were free to just about anyone who found them lying on the ground. Be it for good or evil, they eventually fostered the name "Band." And those that used them were dubbed "Bandits," individuals who possessed a Band.
Not everyone was in agreement on how to use the Bands. Because of that and the potential rise of complete anarchy, a new government sprang into action—the Association Utopia (AU).
While the AU had quelled the immediate turmoil caused by the Bands, it had birthed a new tension, an insatiable desire for freedom amongst those who rejected their dogma.
The Bandits were a disparate group, refusing to submit to the whims of AU. Rebel factions like the Libra emerged, spreading ideals of liberation. But they did so through a lens of vengeance that made many reject their philosophies.
They touted ideals of equality and freedom for all Bandits—mainly those who had been persecuted by AU—and yet their approach seemed steeped in violence, a cycle of turmoil that was bound to repeat history.
Since the rise of AU, it's become more of a secret organization than a public one. To say that they don't rule the world would be an understatement. Yet their job isn't to rule; it's to govern the nations and maintain absolute order from behind the curtains.
Cassian finished his workout with a final stretch.
At just twenty-one, he was no ordinary young man; he had seen the world and understood what lies at its precipice. He was unique because he was the son of AU's current leader.
After cooling off from his workout, he took a refreshing shower. Finished, he stared into the mirror once more, taking a long look at his reflection.
He shaved off the slight stubble adorning his jaw. His golden eyes twinkled amidst his brunette-styled hair.
This was him: Cassian Black, a charming man who donned different faces to please a crowd. Whether they were corrupt businessmen with wealth or cold, beautiful women, he knew all their hearts and the right words to use.
Growing up, he had often been a curious boy, drawn to the events that transpired in Xylandor. Xylandor was like any other robust city filled with aristocrats treading over the poor. It might have seemed like a place dreams could come true, but that was a forefront to those behind the curtains.
Cassian's early years had been filled with joy and familial dinners with his parents. His mother was sweet and nurtured him well. His father, who was often quieter, was also stern and professional.
Cassian himself would listen in silence and be attentive, feeling the weight of his father's expectations.
He couldn't afford to fail.
But all that changed when he turned five and his grandfather began the rigorous training. Initially, it was challenging for him to grasp the intent behind his grandfather's regimen. Often, he would fall to the ground, trembling and sobbing, aching for what felt like being in prison.
"You're too weak," his grandfather reprimanded. "I did not raise a weak grandchild!"
Those sessions turned him into a tool of strength and discipline, of which weakness could never be seen again in the Black household.
By the time his grandfather passed away, Cassian was hardened in ways few could comprehend.
Afterwards, his father assumed the mantle of leadership over AU. There was hardly any warmth left in their household once the head took that role.
Cassian saw little of his father, who was embroiled in the intense politics of their world—a world that had cultivated fear and division amongst the Bandits, a world where the AU had become the self-appointed custodians of law and order.
On his twelfth birthday, as the family gathered around the table to eat, he asked the inevitable question, "When can I get my first Band, dad?"
His mother's usually brightened face went dull, saying, "Sweetheart, we've talked about this many times before."
"She's right," his father added, lifting up his cup of coffee to ignore him. "Focus on your schooling and exercising."
"I understand," Cassian replied, "but, dad, I'd like to help fight the rebel Bandits."
At those words, his father slowly set down his mug. That familiar sentiment of pressure weighed upon Cassian—one that he had grown accustomed to, yet loathed silently. The tension grew, and he was aware of the underlying hint of their conversation.
His mother stiffened, glancing over his father and then back at him. In a calming tone, she said, "Now, sweetheart, you shouldn't meddle in things like your father's work. Live out your childhood."
"But, mom! AU's been facing dissent from the rebels. There are talks of war and betrayal within the government and—"
"Enough!" his father interjected.
"But I'm your son and saw what's out there," he shot back. "I can't just sit here and watch the world fall apart while we pretend to do nothing."
The table became silent as the tension rose to an uncomfortable level. Cassian had never felt such a fierce glare from his father's eyes. Without haste, he lowered his head, knowing he had stepped out of line.
"I took important time off to celebrate my son's birthday, not to talk about my business. The AU is here to keep order, to protect the lawful from the lawless. Or did your grandfather sacrifice himself in vain?"
Cassian knew his father would say that. And by no means was he angry. This was his father, whom he honored. The last thing he would do was to talk back.
"You're right, dad," he apologized, lifting his head to meet his father's gaze. "I shouldn't have brought it."
In truth, he understood the AU's actions were oppressive, a sense of control suffocating the creativity and freedom of those with Bands. Everyone had rights, and that included the right to freely wear Bands.
After that day, Cassian's thoughts swirled with ideas of rebellion.
What did he do?
At fifteen years of age, tired of the life that had been chosen for him, he made a bold decision. He packed his things, left his family behind, and ran away from it all—the position, the control, the destiny that he didn't want.
But what was one adolescent teenager going to do against the world's toughest government? Could he break free of this inherited legacy? No, he had to wait and bide his time.
As he grew older, so did the weight of his responsibilities. Things were hard on him at first since he ran out of money, and he had to live with others willing to take him in. Some were cold and nasty to him, while others showed a little bit of care.
At eighteen, worn out of the monotonous daily patterns, he took a big step into the research of the underworld, where he found stuff not found in AU's grand database.
This age, however, was not the time for him to move. He was patient, understanding that he needed to garner more experience and knowledge before he could make an impact in Zephorya.
By the time he turned twenty-one, he had done the one thing his father couldn't do—he found the underground headquarters of the most dangerous rebel Bandits out there: Libra.