Alita and Jet dashed through the dense jungle, the sound of snapping branches and shouting soldiers echoing behind them. The Valanore soldiers were relentless, closing the gap with every second.
Suddenly, Alita caught sight of a city's outline just beyond the forest. "Jet, head for the city!" she shouted.
The duo sprinted toward the urban refuge, their breaths ragged but determined. As soon as they entered the city's outskirts, they veered into a shadowy alleyway. A small shop caught Alita's eye. Without hesitation, they bolted inside.
The shopkeeper, an old man with a long beard and a weathered face, looked up in alarm. "What's going on? Why are you running?"
"Valanore soldiers are coming!" Alita said urgently. "Do you have somewhere we can hide?"
The shopkeeper's expression hardened. He quickly bolted the door, then motioned them to follow him behind the counter. "Quick, get in here!" He lifted a trapdoor hidden beneath the counter, revealing a ladder leading to a secret room below.
Without hesitation, Alita and Jet climbed down. As they reached the bottom, they found themselves in a spacious storage room. White sheets covered furniture and boxes, and rows of barrels lined the walls.
Alita looked around suspiciously. "Why do you have a hidden room beneath your shop?"
The shopkeeper climbed down after them, closing the trapdoor behind him. "Keep quiet," he muttered. "This room was once used for... questionable activities—smuggling, mostly. People trying to escape the city or even the country. But that was a long time ago. I've left that life behind."
He sighed, his voice tinged with age and regret. "I'm too old for that kind of trouble now."
Jet growled softly, prompting the shopkeeper to glance at him. "That's one unusual dog. He's massive."
Alita smiled, scratching behind Jet's ears. "My son found him in the jungle. His family was killed by some... people." Her tone darkened momentarily before she continued. "But now he's with us, safe."
The shopkeeper nodded solemnly. "The world is cruel. At least he's in good hands now."
Alita straightened up. "We need to get out of this city. The soldiers won't stop until they catch us."
The shopkeeper stroked his beard thoughtfully. "There's a way. Take these keys." He handed her a rusty set of keys. "Behind that rack over there, there's a hidden door. It'll lead you to an abandoned temple outside the city. From there, you should be able to escape unnoticed."
Alita wasted no time. She slid the heavy rack aside, revealing a wooden door. She inserted the key, and the lock clicked open.
"Where does this tunnel lead, exactly?" Alita asked.
"To the outskirts of the city," the shopkeeper replied. "I'll stay here and deal with the soldiers. Don't worry—they won't find you."
Before Alita could protest, the shopkeeper shoved the rack back into place, piling barrels in front of it for added concealment.
"Wait!" Alita pounded on the door. "You should come with us! Why stay behind?"
The old man didn't answer. Instead, he began moving quickly around the room, preparing to face the soldiers.
Jet tugged at Alita's jeans with his teeth, urging her to move. She looked down and saw the determination in his eyes. "Fine," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. "Let's go."
Together, Alita and Jet turned and began making their way through the dark, narrow tunnel. Behind them, the muffled sounds of the shopkeeper's preparations faded into silence.
The journey through the tunnel stretched ahead, uncertain and filled with the promise of danger. But Alita knew they had no choice but to press on.
The camp stirred with early morning activity as Blue and Eric started their day. After stretching and gearing up, they went for a jog outside the camp's perimeter. The exercise helped them shake off the remnants of sleep, their conversation light and easy as they moved through the crisp morning air. Back at camp, they took quick showers before heading to the food court for breakfast.
As they sat eating, Blue broke the silence. "Eric, you've signed your contract, right?"
Eric nodded, swallowing a mouthful of his sandwich.
Blue leaned in with curiosity. "What's your contract like? And what are the perks and drawbacks of your powers?"
Eric chuckled. "Well, I made my contract with a being called Booze. He asked for three things: First, he wanted to see the world through my eyes. Second, he wanted to taste the food of our world. Lastly, he asked to take control of my body during emergencies to help me escape. I agreed to all three conditions."
Blue raised an eyebrow. "So, what kind of powers did he give you?"
Eric grinned. "I can stretch my limbs up to 20 meters, I'm completely bulletproof, and I can jump ridiculously high. But there's a catch—my stretching ability doesn't work well in the cold. It's much better in warm weather."
Blue nodded thoughtfully. "So there's always a price to pay, huh? I didn't realize how much negotiation is involved. I thought these beings just wanted to see the world through us."
Eric leaned back, crossing his arms. "That's what most people think. But it's more complicated than that. Not everyone gets a contract, and some people refuse them outright. Negotiation is key."
"Have you signed yours yet?" Eric asked, his tone curious.
Blue shook his head and glanced at the glass orb in his pocket. "Not yet."
Before their conversation could continue, an announcement echoed through the camp.
"Attention! All survivors from Angel City, please gather at the center of the camp. The captain has returned and wishes to address you."
Angel City—the home that had been destroyed in the attack. Blue and Eric exchanged a glance before quickly finishing their breakfast and hurrying to the camp's center.
A crowd of soldiers and survivors had already gathered, surrounding an older man with a commanding presence. His white beard was neatly groomed, and a long scar ran across his neck.
"Captain Brock," a soldier asked, "did you locate the soldiers who attacked Angel City?"
The captain sighed heavily. "No, we haven't found them yet. But we have a lead. This war will be long, and I fear many more innocent lives will be lost. Is everyone here?"
"Yes, sir," a soldier replied.
Captain Brock stepped forward, addressing the crowd. "I'm Captain Brock. Some of you might've seen me in the battle against the Valanore army. I want to express my deepest condolences for what happened to Angel City. I promise you, we will take our revenge. But for now, we must prepare for the battles ahead. If you need me, I'll be in my office tent. Dismissed."
As the crowd began to disperse, Blue approached the captain.
"Captain Brock! My name is Blue. I'm the son of Light."
The captain's stern expression softened. "Light's son? I've heard a lot about your father. He's one of the strongest men I know. Where is he now?"
"I don't know," Blue admitted. "And my mother is missing too. I just know she's alive, but we haven't been able to find her."
Captain Brock placed a reassuring hand on Blue's shoulder. "We'll find her, kid. Don't lose hope. Tell me—have you signed your contract yet?"
Blue shook his head. "Not yet. But I still have the glass orb for the ceremony."
The captain nodded approvingly. "Good. Bring it to the center of the camp tonight near the doctor's table. I'll help you complete the ceremony."
That evening, as darkness settled over the camp, Blue and Eric waited at the meeting spot. The stars above twinkled faintly, but the atmosphere felt heavy with anticipation.
"Do you think the old man forgot about you?" Eric teased, tapping his foot impatiently.
Blue rolled his eyes. "Just wait. He'll come."
Moments later, Captain Brock arrived, accompanied by a group of soldiers.
"Let's begin," the captain said. "Ozoo, set up the orb."
A soldier stepped forward, carefully placing the orb on the ground. "Sit next to it, place your hand on the orb, and close your eyes," the captain instructed. "You'll feel like you're being pulled into it. Don't be afraid—it's taking you to the being who wants to make the contract."
Blue followed the instructions. The moment his hand touched the orb, he felt a strange pull, as if the world around him was dissolving. When he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by endless darkness.
"Hello?" Blue called out, his voice echoing in the void.
Two pairs of glowing red eyes appeared in the darkness, followed by deep, resonant voices.
"What is your name, boy?" one asked.
"Blue," he replied, his voice steady despite the fear creeping in.
"Why are there three of us here?" the other questioned, his tone filled with suspicion.
"I... I don't know," Blue stammered. "I just came here to sign my contract."
As they stepped closer, Blue could see them clearly—a winged figure with horns and a skeletal figure cloaked in black. After a tense exchange, they explained they were primordial beings—ancient, powerful entities. Somehow, Blue's presence had broken the spell binding them, allowing both to participate in the ceremony.
They laid out their terms: they would share his mind, offering guidance and insights, and take control of his body with his permission in life-threatening situations. In return, they granted him immense power and swore to aid him in the battles to come.
"You must never tell anyone about this," the winged figure warned. "Not that you signed with two beings. Not that we're primordial."
Blue nodded, sealing the agreement. The contract was completed with their combined blood, and the orb's light engulfed him.
When Blue opened his eyes, he was back at the camp, dizzy but alive.
"You're awake," Captain Brock said, steadying him. "You took your time. Rest now. We'll talk tomorrow."
Eric helped Blue back to their tent, both aware that the journey ahead had just begun.
The next day, Blue and Eric woke up early and set out for a jog around the camp. As they returned, they spotted Captain Brock in the middle of an intense training session with his soldiers. Brock's gauntlets flashed in the morning light as he demonstrated powerful combat moves, each one landing with a resounding thud.
Curious, Blue and Eric approached to watch. Captain Brock noticed them and grinned. "Come on, kids! Let me teach you something. Do you two want to join the ambush we're planning against the Valanore army that destroyed your city?"
Blue stepped forward, his determination evident. "Yes, sir! I want to help stop this war—or win it."
Eric nodded, his fists clenched.
"Good," Brock said, his voice firm. "Go pick your weapons. Training starts now!"
Blue walked over to the weapons bench, his eyes scanning the assortment. He picked up two swords, testing their weight in his hands.
Brock laughed, his voice booming. "Ha! Like father, like son. Your dad also loved fighting with two swords."
Blue smiled, gripping the blades tightly. "Yes, sir. Two swords suit me best."
Eric, meanwhile, stood by with no weapon in sight. Blue raised an eyebrow. "No weapons?"
Eric smirked, raising his fists. The glint of brass knuckles adorned his hands. "I've got these."
Blue chuckled. "They'll complement your powers perfectly."
Eric grinned. "I'm all about attacking."
Captain Brock's voice rang out, cutting through their conversation. "Eric, you're first. You'll spar with Jennifer. Take your positions!"
Eric leapt into the training ground, his excitement so strong that his landing cracked the dirt beneath him. Jennifer entered more calmly, spinning her long pole in one hand.
"Save your energy, kid," she said with a sly smile. "You'll need it."
Brock raised his hand and shouted, "Fight!"
Eric rushed forward, throwing a wild punch. Jennifer dodged effortlessly and spun her pole, delivering a sharp kick to his back. Eric hit the ground hard, raising a cloud of dust.
"Get up, kid," Jennifer called, her voice teasing. "I know you've got more in you."
Eric sprang up and stretched his arm toward her with lightning speed. But Jennifer sidestepped again, caught his extended arm, and pulled him toward her. With a swift elbow strike, she knocked him out cold.
Brock clapped his hands. "Stop! Well done, Jennifer. Excellent work."
Jennifer smiled as she exited the ring.
Brock turned to Blue. "Your turn! Get in there!"
Blue stepped into the training ground, his swords gleaming. Opposite him, Ozoo walked in, calm and composed. He spun his nunchaku with fluid ease, each motion precise and deliberate.
Brock raised his hand. "Fight!"
Both fighters sprang into action. Blue charged, leaping into the air and bringing his swords down in a powerful arc. Ozoo sidestepped and swung his nunchaku at Blue's midsection, but Blue twisted in the air, narrowly avoiding the strike.
Blue landed gracefully and attacked again, this time with a flurry of slashes. Ozoo blocked with his nunchaku, sparks flying as metal clashed against metal.
"You're quick," Ozoo said, his voice calm. "But let's see how you handle this."
Ozoo twirled his nunchaku in rapid circles, creating a defensive barrier as he advanced. Blue stepped back, searching for an opening. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, Ozoo lunged, his nunchaku striking out like a viper.
Blue crossed his swords to block, the force of the blow sending vibrations up his arms. He pushed back, using the momentum to spin and slash at Ozoo's legs. Ozoo jumped, flipping over Blue's attack, and landed behind him.
Without hesitation, Blue pivoted, his swords slicing horizontally. Ozoo ducked, then countered with a swift strike to Blue's wrist. Blue's grip faltered for a moment but held firm.
"You're not bad," Ozoo said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "But it's time to get serious."
The air shifted suddenly, growing dense and oppressive. The ground beneath Blue's feet seemed to tremble as cracks formed on Ozoo's pale skin. From those cracks, jagged fragments of bone pushed outward, piercing the surface like grotesque weapons.
Blue tightened his grip on his sword, his knuckles white. His heart pounded in his chest. This was his first real fight—his first time facing someone who wasn't holding back. And judging by Ozoo's confident demeanor, this wasn't the first time he'd used his horrifying powers in battle.
Without warning, Ozoo raised his arm and unleashed a volley of bone bullets. They tore through the air with a high-pitched whistling sound, forcing Blue to roll out of the way. Each projectile struck the ground with explosive force, leaving craters where they landed.
"Damn it," Blue muttered, struggling to stay on his feet. He swung his sword clumsily, deflecting a few bullets, but the impact jarred his arm. He wasn't fast enough—wasn't good enough—to keep up with the relentless barrage.
And then, amidst the chaos, a voice echoed in his mind.
"Is it time for me to wake up?"
Blue froze for a split second. "Lucifer?" he whispered, his breath hitching.
"Yeah, it's me," the voice replied, smooth and mocking. "You look like you're in over your head, kid."
"I could use some help," Blue admitted through gritted teeth.
Lucifer chuckled. "Don't get cocky. You're not ready to handle my full power—not even close. But I'll let you use 20%. That's more than enough to get you through this… if you don't screw it up."
Blue felt a surge of energy coursing through his body, cold and foreign. It was overwhelming, almost suffocating, but he forced himself to focus.
"Twenty percent, huh?" Blue muttered, a shaky smirk forming on his lips. "Let's see what that can do."
Ozoo cocked his head, noticing the shift in Blue's stance. "Talking to yourself? Don't worry, I won't hurt you too much."
With a flick of his wrist, Ozoo sent another wave of bone bullets hurtling toward Blue.
This time, Blue reacted differently. He raised his hand, and the shadows around him surged upward, forming a wall of darkness. The bone bullets slammed into the wall and slowed, hanging in midair as if frozen in time.
The battlefield fell silent. The onlookers stared in disbelief, their expressions a mix of awe and confusion.
"What… what is this?" Ozoo growled, his grin faltering for the first time.
Even Captain Brock, watching from the sidelines, was stunned. "Shadow manipulation… I didn't think anyone could wield such a power," he muttered, his voice barely audible.
Blue didn't have time to revel in the shock of the crowd. He focused on his next move, darting forward with newfound speed. Another shadow wall rose to block a fresh volley of bullets, and as before, the projectiles slowed to a crawl before continuing forward.
But as Blue closed the distance, his inexperience began to show. His movements, while fast, were unrefined. His sword strikes were powerful but lacked precision, and his reliance on the shadow walls made him predictable.
Ozoo quickly caught on. "You're not as clever as you think, kid," he sneered, sidestepping Blue's clumsy attack. With a swift motion, he sent a bone shard slicing through the air, grazing Blue's shoulder.
Blue winced, stumbling backward. Blood seeped through his torn jacket, and the pain jolted him out of his focus.
"You're strong, I'll give you that," Ozoo said, circling him like a predator. "But strength isn't enough. You lack experience. Discipline" He fired another round of bullets, forcing Blue to summon yet another shadow wall. "this is the end"
Blue's breathing grew ragged. The energy coursing through him was starting to take its toll. His legs felt heavy, his vision blurred. Lucifer's voice echoed faintly in his mind, but it was distant now, almost inaudible.
Ozoo seized the opportunity. He charged forward, his bones extending into jagged spikes. Blue swung his sword in a desperate attempt to defend himself, but Ozoo deflected the blow with ease, his superior skill evident.
"You fought well" Ozoo said "But this fight is over."
With a final, devastating strike, Ozoo drove a spike of bone into the ground near Blue's feet, the force of the impact sending shockwaves through the battlefield. The ground shattered, and Blue was thrown backward, landing hard on his back.
He tried to stand, but his body refused to obey. His sword lay just out of reach, and the shadows that had once answered his call were now fading into the ground.
Ozoo loomed over him, victorious. "Remember this feeling, kid," he said, his tone almost sympathetic. "Losing is the best teacher."
And with that, Ozoo turned and walked away, leaving Blue battered and defeated on the battlefield.
"Hahahaha, you fought well against an experienced fighter," Captain Brock said, his booming laugh echoing across the battlefield as he approached Blue. His hand extended toward the young fighter. "Go have some rest now, both of you."
Blue, still lying on the ground and catching his breath, glanced up at Brock. Though his body ached from the fight, he reached out and grabbed the captain's hand. With a firm pull, Brock helped him to his feet.
"Thanks," Blue muttered, brushing dust off his clothes.
Nearby, Eric stood silently, observing the exchange. His expression was a mix of admiration and determination.
The two boys limped back to their shared tent, their exhaustion evident. As soon as they entered, they collapsed onto their makeshift beds, letting the tension of the day seep away.
Later that Night
The camp was quiet, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moon. Blue and Eric had just finished their dinner and decided to go for a walk to stretch their sore muscles.
"Man, I was so weak today," Eric admitted, his voice heavy with frustration. "But I'm gonna get stronger. I'll work harder, and one day... I'll defeat Jennifer."
Blue glanced at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I get it. I felt the same way during the fight earlier. Ozoo completely overwhelmed me. But I won't let that happen again. I'll improve. I'll get stronger too."
Their conversation carried on as they strolled through the camp, sharing their thoughts and goals. It was a moment of camaraderie, their shared determination forming a bond between them.
From a distance, Captain Brock watched the two young fighters. His sharp eyes followed their movements, and he nodded to himself. Finally, he called out, "Blue! Eric! Come to my tent."
The boys exchanged a glance before heading over. Brock's tent was larger than the others, cluttered with maps, weapons, and documents. He stood behind a table, his arms crossed, his usual grin replaced by a more serious expression.
"You both did great today," Brock began, his voice firm but encouraging. "Blue, I've never seen anyone with shadow powers before. That's a unique gift you've got there. And Eric, your determination is admirable. But today, you both learned something important—you're not invincible, and the enemies you'll face out there won't hold back."
The boys nodded silently, their earlier confidence tempered by humility.
Brock continued, "Let me train you both. Starting tomorrow, I'll push you harder than you've ever been pushed before. The battlefield doesn't wait for anyone, and you need to be ready. Ambush is coming in a week, and I need you both strong enough to hold your own when it does. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir!" Blue and Eric replied in unison, their voices filled with resolve.
"Good." Brock's grin returned, but this time it carried a hint of pride. "Get some rest tonight. You're going to need it."
As they left Brock's tent, Blue and Eric exchanged a determined glance. They knew the road ahead would be tough, but they also knew they had no choice but to rise to the challenge.
"We've got this," Eric said, clapping Blue on the shoulder.
Blue nodded. "Yeah. Let's give it everything we've got."
The moonlight followed them back to their tent, where they laid down to rest, their thoughts already racing toward the trials of the days to come.
The Next Morning
The sun had barely risen when Captain Brock's booming voice echoed through the camp.
"Rise and shine, rookies! Time to start earning your place on the battlefield!"
Blue groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Eric stumbled out of bed, still half-asleep. They quickly got dressed and hurried to the training grounds, where Brock was already waiting.
The training area was a wide, open field dotted with training dummies, obstacle courses, and weapon racks. A few seasoned soldiers sparred nearby, their movements sharp and precise—a stark contrast to Blue and Eric's inexperience.
"All right, listen up!" Brock barked, pacing in front of them. "You've got six days to prove to me that you're not just dead weight. By the time we march into battle, I want to see warriors, not scared kids. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!" they replied, their voices filled with determination.
"Good." Brock stopped pacing and pointed at Blue. "Shadow boy, your powers are unique, but you're wasting energy. You rely too much on instinct and not enough on strategy. Today, we're fixing that."
He turned to Eric. "As for you, you've got heart, but heart won't keep you alive. You need to sharpen your reflexes and learn how to outthink your opponent."
The training began immediately.
Blue's Training
Brock led Blue to a secluded area, away from the noise of the main training grounds. "Your power is impressive, but raw power won't win you battles. You need control. You need to learn when to attack, when to defend, and how to conserve your energy."
Blue nodded, gripping his sword tightly.
"First test: summon that shadow wall of yours, but this time, hold it for as long as you can."
Blue planted his feet and raised his hand, willing the shadows to rise. A dark wall surged from the ground, but after a few seconds, his arm trembled, and the wall flickered before dissipating.
"Pathetic," Brock said bluntly. "If that's all you've got, you'll be dead in seconds on the battlefield."
Blue gritted his teeth. "I'll do better."
"Then prove it. Again."
Over and over, Blue summoned the wall, each time pushing himself to hold it longer. His body screamed in protest, but he refused to stop. Brock watched silently, nodding in approval when Blue finally managed to sustain the wall for a full minute.
"Not bad," Brock admitted. "Now, let's see how well you can use it in a fight."
He drew his own sword and motioned for Blue to attack. Blue hesitated for a moment but then charged, summoning a shadow wall to block Brock's counterstrike. But Brock was faster and more experienced. He sidestepped the wall and disarmed Blue in one swift motion, leaving him sprawled on the ground.
"Lesson one: don't rely on your powers alone," Brock said, extending a hand to help him up. "Your enemies will always find a way around them. Combine your shadows with your swordsmanship. Make them work together."
Eric's Training
Meanwhile, Eric was tasked with improving his reflexes. Brock set up a series of traps and obstacles, forcing Eric to dodge, duck, and weave his way through a gauntlet of swinging logs and flying arrows.
"You're slow, kid!" Brock shouted as Eric narrowly avoided a swinging log. "In a real fight, hesitation will get you killed. Move like your life depends on it—because it does!"
By the end of the session, Eric was covered in cuts and bruises, but his movements were noticeably sharper. He clenched his fists, determination blazing in his eyes. "I'll get faster. Stronger. I promise."
That Night
Exhausted from the grueling training, Blue and Eric sat by the campfire, their bodies aching but their spirits unbroken.
"We've got a long way to go," Eric admitted, poking at the fire with a stick.
Blue nodded. "Yeah, but we're getting there. Brock's tough, but he knows what he's doing."
As they talked, a shadow fell over them. Brock stood behind them, arms crossed.
"You both did well today," he said gruffly. "But don't get comfortable. The ambush is coming, and the enemy won't care how tired you are or how hard you've worked. They'll come at you with everything they've got. And you'll need to be ready."
He leaned down, his eyes meeting theirs. "You have six days left. Make them count."
The weight of his words hung in the air as he walked away, leaving Blue and Eric to stare into the flames, their determination stronger than ever.