Zeke stood at the edge of his father's grave, staring down at the freshly dug earth. The surrounding landscape felt vast, silent, like a dark, empty void. He felt a strange sense of detachment, as though he was watching someone else bury his father. There were a few people in attendance, but their voices and movements were distant, muffled, as if they existed in another world.
His sister Mia stood beside him, her eyes red and swollen from crying, but she didn't speak. Zeke could feel the weight of the world pressing on his chest. He had lost his mother a long time ago, but losing his father—someone who had been his hero, his mentor—felt like the final piece of his identity had been stolen. The memory of his father's kindness and strength flooded back to him, making his chest tighten. But all that remained now was this cold, lifeless body buried beneath the soil.
"Why?" Zeke whispered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. Why had it all come to this? How could his father be dead when he was supposed to be protected, safe from harm?
The betrayal Zeke felt in that moment was like a dagger to his heart. She had been the last one with his father, the one who was supposed to protect him. But instead, his father had died in a state of torment, his wounds never fully healed. Zeke had always trusted her, believed in her as a figure of safety and strength. Now, all of that was shattered.
His mind raced with thoughts of revenge and justice. His grandmother, and perhaps even his grandfather, had failed his father. They had abandoned him to die alone, and Zeke wouldn't allow that to go unpunished. With every passing second, the love and respect he once had for them began to slip away, replaced by a cold, seething anger. It felt as though every thread of connection to them had been cut.
Zeke clenched his fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. He could feel the pain of loss, the raw emotions that gripped him, but there was something more now. His desire for answers, for retribution, burned in him like an unquenchable fire. They had taken everything from him, and he would make them pay.
As the funeral concluded and the last of the mourners left, Zeke didn't speak to anyone. He simply turned to his sister and, without hesitation, said, "You need to stay at school all the time . I'll figure out what happened. But for now, you have to stay safe. I'll take care of everything."
Mia looked at him, her eyes full of confusion and sadness. "But Zeke, where are you going to go? What will you do?"
"I'll find the answers," Zeke replied, his voice low but firm. "I'll find the people responsible, and I'll make them regret what they did."
His sister didn't say anything else. She simply nodded and walked away, leaving Zeke standing alone in the dark, his thoughts swirling with plans for the future.
The next few days were a blur for Zeke. He buried himself in his training, pushing his body to the limit. His mind was consumed with thoughts of revenge and justice, but it wasn't enough just to think about it. He had to become stronger. Strong enough to hunt down whoever was behind his father's death. Strong enough to make them pay for the pain they had caused.
Every morning, Zeke woke up at dawn and began his intense regimen. Hours of physical training, mental discipline, and honing his Soul power. His muscles ached, his body was bruised and battered, but each strike, each move, brought him closer to the strength he needed. His body grew leaner, more defined, but it was the Soul power that truly fascinated him. The power that had awakened within him when he had faced his father's death.
On the fourth day after his father's death, Zeke made his decision. He would attend his duties as an officer. It wasn't just about the responsibility—it was about the power. The more connected he became to the Guardians' department, the more he could learn, the more he could rise through the ranks. And the more access he would have to the resources he needed to uncover the truth.
He made his way to the headquarters, the tall, imposing building towering above him. Inside, the hustle of activity filled the air. People were talking, working, and strategizing. Zeke approached the examiner, who had tested him during the initial selection, and asked about his assignment.
"I'm here to start my duties," Zeke said, his voice calm but resolute.
The examiner pointed toward a figure across the room, a tall, stern-looking officer. "Go speak with him. He'll assign you your team and your tasks."
Zeke nodded and walked over, his heart pounding in his chest. This was his chance to prove himself. To show everyone that he wasn't just a product of his family's connections. He would make them see his strength.
The officer, a middle-aged man with short, graying hair, looked him over briefly before speaking. "You're Zeke, right? You'll be responsible for a section of the city. There are twenty enforcers here who will be assigned to you. Start talking to your team and get to work. Your job is simple: patrol the area, identify any problems, and report back. We need to know what's happening in the city. And we need it fast."
Zeke nodded, the weight of the responsibility settling on his shoulders. He could feel his resolve hardening. This was just the beginning. He would gain power here, and then he would take down the people who had destroyed his family.
The officer pointed towards a group of people standing at attention in the back of the headquarters' large courtyard. There were twenty of them, all standing in a line, each dressed in uniform and waiting to be assigned to their new roles.
"Those are your new team members," the officer said. "You'll be responsible for overseeing a portion of the city. Each of you will be assigned a specific area. Make sure to keep the peace, report any incidents, and be vigilant."
Zeke felt his mind shift into work mode. The details didn't matter right now. He had a team to build, and then he could focus on his real mission: gaining strength.
He moved towards the group, his eyes scanning the faces of those who would serve under him. There was a quiet tension in the air as they waited for him to speak. Zeke, always the natural leader, didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and addressed them with confidence.
"You will follow my orders. I don't care if you're scared, if you think you're unqualified, or if you doubt my abilities. You will do as I say. I will make sure each of you earns your place here."
The words were spoken with authority, and the team members, though silent, nodded in agreement. Zeke wasn't looking for friends. He was looking for soldiers who would help him achieve his goals. They didn't need to understand his anger, his need for power—only that they needed to follow him.
---
Later that day, as Zeke was preparing to leave, Alistair appeared at his side. The familiar face of his old friend, a reminder of simpler times, brought a fleeting moment of comfort. Alistair clapped him on the back, a wide grin on his face.
"I'm glad to see you're back in action, Zeke," Alistair said. "I know things haven't been easy, but you've got this. And I'll be here to help you, just like you helped me."
Zeke didn't reply immediately. His mind was elsewhere, thinking about the things he needed to do. But he appreciated Alistair's support. For now, it was enough to have someone he could trust at his side.
They walked toward Zeke's house, exchanging small talk as they went, but neither of them noticed the shadowy figure following them. The figure stayed at a distance, moving silently through the streets, waiting for the right moment.
As Zeke and Alistair neared Zeke's home, the figure stopped outside, watching from the shadows. Zeke felt a strange unease but didn't think much of it. His focus was on the future, not on whatever threat might be lurking.
When Alistair left, the figure made its move
Zeke was inside, training once again, when he sensed the presence of someone entering the house. A figure emerged from the shadows and crept toward him, a knife clutched tightly in his hand, crackling with Soul power.
Zeke's instincts kicked in, and before the figure could strike, a wall of dark energy erupted from his body, creating a barrier between them. The figure attacked with full force, the knife slashing through the air. But Zeke's wall wasn't strong enough to hold. The force of the blow shattered the black barrier, sending Zeke flying across the room and crashing to the ground outside.
The attacker followed, leaping down from the upper floor, his face twisted with satisfaction. Zeke struggled to rise, blood streaming from his wounds, but he couldn't back down. His Soul power was still flickering within him, though weak. He glared at the attacker, his voice low and venomous.
"Who the fuck are you?" Zeke demanded.
The attacker smiled. "You're one unlucky kid. The head of the Lennox family sent me personally to kill you. You don't have a future. You're already dead."