"Kael… run!!!"
His mother's voice rang in his ears like a bell cracking through a storm.
"You need to live, okay?! Now go!"
"Save yourself!!"
A blinding flash appeared..
Kael suddenly woke up, drenched in sweat, heart pounding like war drums in his chest. The old bed beneath him creaked, barely able to hold his weight. His breath trembled, chest beating as the dream's phantom fire still clung to his skin.
He whispered into the silence, his voice barely more than a dying breath.
"...Mom."
For a moment, he sat still, eyes lost in the crumbling ceiling above him, as if trying to recall her face through the dust.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
A violent fist pounded against the iron door.
"Hey!!! Wake the hell up, scum!"
Kael barely had time to turn his head when the door burst open. A massive figure stepped into the room and swung his fist.
POOF!
Kael hit by the blow, his body slamming back into the bed. Blood pooled in his mouth, but he didn't cry out.
"Late again, are we?! You think you're special now, huh?!" the man roared.
It was Commander Drayven Halveth, an Adapter from the Southern Fortress, brutal, fire-eyed, and infamous for how he "disciplined" slaves.
Kael coughed and stood slowly, wiping the blood from his lips without meeting his eyes.
"...I'm sorry, sir."
Drayven sneered. "Sorry? That's all? You sleep in while the others break their backs?"
His hand crackled with unstable electromagnetic charge, threatening another strike. But Kael didn't flinch.
The commander huffed through his nose like a beast, then spat at Kael's feet.
"Get your ass to the mines. You're on coal duty. No breaks. No water. No excuses."
Kael bowed his head. "Understood."
Drayven slammed the door behind him, leaving Kael alone once more in silence.
For a brief moment, Kael looked down at his shaking hands. Not from fear, but from rage he buried deeper every day.
The sun never rose properly over Cindertide Fortress.
Thick smoke and sulfur hung in the air like a curse, choking every breath with the scent of burnt stone and iron. Nestled in the southern belt of scorched lands, the fortress thrived on its mines, but not without cost.
Slaves.
Every day, hundreds were forced into the jagged earth, picks in hand and hope long dead. They worked until their bodies collapsed, and even then, were paid in crumbs, not enough to live, just enough to not die.
Kael descended into the mines silently, his jaw still sore from Drayven's punch. The clanging of metal on stone echoed through the tunnels like the ticking of a war drum, rhythmic and cruel.
Down here, time didn't pass. It bled.
As he stepped onto the lower tier, a familiar voice called out.
"Did that bastard beat you again?"
Kael turned his head slightly and saw Rek, crouched near the coal vein, his skin darkened with soot and exhaustion. His eyes, however, still held something rare in Cindertide... humor. A smirk twitched at the edge of his cracked lips.
Kael gave a small nod and sat beside him, letting his pickaxe lean against the stone wall.
Rek clicked his tongue. "Tch. I swear, one of these days you're gonna snap his neck, and I'll be right here cheering."
Kael didn't laugh. He never really did.
But he appreciated the words.
"He almost did it this time," Kael muttered, brushing the blood off his jaw. "If I was anyone else, I might be dead."
Rek's smile faded slightly. "You're not like the rest of us. I don't know what it is, but you're holding something back. Like there's fire in your veins… and it's just waiting to burn everything down."
Kael looked down at his gloved hand. Beneath the fabric, the skin pulsed faintly. Unstable. Controlled. Suppressed.
"You're wrong," Kael lied. "I'm just another slave."
Rek scoffed and handed him a rusted flask of water. "Yeah, and I'm the emperor of the Southern Fortress."
Kael took a sip. Warm, bitter. But it was the only kindness he had known in weeks.
By afternoon, the mine was thick with exhaustion.
Every breath was dust. Every step felt like dragging your soul through ash. The sun, if it still existed behind the veil of smoke, gave no warmth. Just weight.
Kael's muscles screamed with fatigue as he emerged from the tunnels, his hands blistered, back drenched in grime and sweat. He expected silence, the usual bitter end of another day in hell.
Instead, he heard chaos.
Shouting. Screaming. Panic.
Kael dropped his tools and ran.
His boots pounded against the stone path as he pushed through a small crowd of slaves gathering near the main yard, their expressions twisted in horror.
Then... he saw it.
Rek.
Lying in the dirt, bloodied, unmoving. His arm was bent the wrong way, his face half-buried in ash.
Dead.
Standing on the top of his corpse like a triumphant warlord was Commander Drayven, one heavy boot planted squarely on Rek's chest. A smug, cruel grin painted his face.
"Let this be a reminder!" Drayven's voice roared across the stunned crowd. "This is what happens when you disobey the Southern Fortress!"
He spat, and it landed beside Rek's head.
Kael stopped walking.
His body trembled, not with fear, but with something far older. Far deeper. Something he had buried in the back of his heart since the day his mother was torn from his arms.
Now, it clawed its way out of the dark.
Rage.
Blinding. Sharp. Unforgiving.
Kael's heart thundered in his chest. The world dulled, colors faded. All he could see was Rek, lifeless, broken.
And Drayven.
"HEYYYYY!!!" Kael's voice exploded like a gunshot across the yard.
Everyone. Slaves, guards, even the Adapters was froze.
Kael marched forward, his eyes locked onto Drayven, burning with something inhuman. Something terrifying.
"Get that filthy foot off him," Kael growled, each word soaked in venom. "Now."
Drayven turned slowly, stunned by the audacity.
"...Are you threatening me, slave?" he barked.
Kael's eyes didn't flinch.
Drayven stepped off Rek's body slowly, eyeing Kael like a beast recognizing another predator. The man wasn't smiling anymore... he was grinning.
A sick, eager grin.
"I knew you weren't normal," he said, cracking his knuckles. "You've always had that look in your eye… like a dog pretending to be a lamb. And now here you are, finally barking."
Kael didn't answer. He took another step forward. The ground beneath him pulsed ever so slightly.
The other slaves backed away in a panic, whispers turning into frantic gasps as sparks flickered in the air around Kael's hands... it's blue and white lightning, tiny and trembling like they didn't know whether to vanish or explode.
Drayven's eyes lit up.
"You're… an Adapter?" he hissed, as if tasting something delicious. "Ohhh… this just got interesting."
The guards moved forward. "Stop right there!?"
"No!" Drayven barked without looking back. His lips curled with excitement. "He's mine."
Drayven lunged.
Kael started to calculate. Velocity... 28 meters per second. Distance is 4.2 meters. Impact window will be 0.12 seconds.
Kael sidestepped barely in time, pivoting low. His right hand twitched.
If I redirect charge to my palm and release in a 17 degree arc…
Aim center mass… chest cavity at maximum conduction…
It'll slow him. Not enough to stop him. But enough to buy a second.
CRACK!
Kael's palm erupted in a burst of electromagnetic force, striking Drayven square in the chest. Sparks exploded as the Adapter reeled, but only slightly.
48,000 volts. 9 milliamps. Just a jolt. Barely past surface nervous interference. Not enough to stun him... need at least 150,000 volts for muscle lock on enhanced tissue.
Drayven lunged again. Kael had no time to prepare.... Drayven's fist sank into his gut, then a knee slammed into his chin, and Kael hit the dirt hard.
"Not bad," he muttered. "But not enough."
"You're new," Drayven said, slowly walking towards him. "Raw. Untamed. A little pup with sharp teeth."
Kael tried to rise, but Drayven grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground, one-handed. Kael's feet kicked helplessly, air fleeing his lungs.
"I'll enjoy cutting that power out of you," Drayven whispered. "And maybe I'll stuff what's left in a lab tank like the rest of the broken toys."
Kael's fingers twitched.
His chest ached. His vision blackened.
And then...
Boom.
The ground shook.
A ripple exploded outward from Kael's suspended body. The dirt cracked. Stones rose and floated. The gravity bent.
Suddenly, Drayven's feet ripped off the ground and flung backward like a ragdoll hurled by a god. He smashed into a stone wall several meters away, leaving a crater where his body hit.
The guards reached for their weapons.
"STAND BACK!" Drayven coughed, bloodied and stunned. His eyes widened. "He's not just an Adapter… he's a Double-Force user…"
The guards froze in place.
Because they couldn't move.
Their feet were crushed into the ground, locked by an unseen pressure. Their knees buckled. Some screamed. Others collapsed, unable to breathe.
Kael dropped to one knee, gasping. His body trembled. His G Force surged out of control, warping the space around him in pulses.
"You… slave…" Drayven hissed, trying to rise.
Kael looked at him with dead, furious eyes.
"You stepped on the wrong corpse."
Then he walked forward, slow and calm.
Drayven screamed and launched one last desperate lightning strike... but it fizzled against the density warping around Kael's body.
Kael grabbed him by the face.
And slammed it into the ground.
Again.
And again.
Until blood soaked the dirt.
Until the skull cracked.
Until silence returned.
He stand... watching the adapter guards in the ground while the slaves are running away.
Looking at Rek's body he whispered "I'm sorry..."
Blood dripped from Kael's fingertips, warm and steady like rain.
The cratered ground beneath Drayven's corpse sizzled, steam rising from the fractured skull. The silence that followed wasn't peace... it was terror.
No one moved.
All eyes were locked on Kael.
He raised his left hand slowly, as if pulled by instinct, not thought.
Above his palm, the air bent... curving inward like glass folding over itself. A shimmer appeared. Then, black.
Not shadow.
Something darker.
Something… hungry.
A miniature wormhole opened in his palm... spinning, humming, flickering like a star born of silence. It pulled at his clothes, the dust, the very sound around him.
"W-What the hell is that?!" The Guards were confused.
"Stop him!"
"WAIT..."
It was too late.
Kael looked at them, his eyes void of fear, void of guilt.
"This place stinks of rot," he muttered. "I'm done breathing it."
And with that, the wormhole sucked him in... his body folding through space like a whisper through a crack.
He vanished.
The black tear in reality collapsed a second later, leaving behind only silence, swirling ash…
…and the memory of the slave who tore gravity apart.