The Real World

Blood flowed like a river from one end to another. In this small village, bloody corpses stacked up in almost every direction the eyes turned to. As a rain of blood showered on this village, flooded with fleshy blood and wails of sorrow and horror, there was a pair of blurry eyes drifting between a painful gore scene and a blurry subconsciousness.

"Time to leave Ken~"

A very familiar voice resounded in Ken's head as he was thrown onto the back of this person. Glancing back one last time, all he could see was the bloody village growing distant while his consciousness drifted away.

-------------------------

"Sigh. It sure is raining cats and dogs. Let's close up for the day. Good work."

An old yet strong voice resonated in the local bar amidst the sound of heavy rain. Following the voice, workers started leaving with a happy expression, scattering into different directions in the night filled with rain and thunder, leaving only the old man in the bar.

'Bang!'

'Bang! Bang!'

The sounds of a door almost breaking down. It wasn't a normal knock but sounded like a person trying to break the door. It came from the back door of the bar in the kitchen. The old man was calm as he walked slowly towards the door. His eyes remained calm as he saw what was before him but a normal reaction of anyone else would be a mix of panic and fear.

Before him in a dark raining alley, lying on the ground was a kid, drenched in blood while being washed by the rain. On him was a plastic cover weighed down by a rock to keep it from flying away in the rainy wind. The old man's face showed no reaction as he picked up the cover and saw a sheet of paper neatly folded. As he read, the reactionless face of his suddenly showed a stiff expression as his eyebrows knitted together.

"His Destiny. His Will. His Legacy. All of them are yours to bear, kid. I hope you can complete what they started. Bring an end to his mission."

The old man's eyes flickered between mourning and a tender look as he took out a lighter and burned the paper followed by his eyes desperately trying to find something as they wandered every corner of the alley, finally stopping after finding disappointment.

As the old man carried the kid inside, from the tip of a skyscraper, a thousand feet above the ground, a pair of watchful eyes were observing the alley through binoculars which was emitting a strange azure colour as he murmured,

'The rest is up to you old man Kenzo.'

"Liam reporting, the package's been safely delivered. Over."

Liam reluctantly drew his eyes away from the small bar hundreds of meters away from him as he jumped down the skyscraper. In mid air, his earpiece buzzed as it let out,

"Copy that. Fall back to the rendezvous point, Liam. Tssh~"

"Roger that, heading towards the helipad-R. Liam, Over and out."

With this reply, his silhouette disappeared in the darkness of night as his eyes drifted towards the direction of the bar one last time.

------ 2 hours later

A pair of bleak eyes slowly opened to gaze at an unfamiliar ceiling. His face seemed calm as he looked around only to find an old man sitting on a chair reading a book by the window under the brightness of the streetlights seeping in.

"You are up. How are you feeling?"

His old eyes fell on the pale face of Ken. Placing the book aside he pulled his chair towards the bed as he crossed his arms by his chest, his spine straight and gaze fixed on Ken.

"I feel groggy but that's alright. Excuse me, but who are you? And where are we?"

Hearing Ken's questions, the old man squinted his eyes with a slightly angry face as his eyebrows knitted together saying,

"I found you unconscious by my shop's back door. I helped you up into this room and still, you are the one asking questions, kid?" Hearing this Ken's face turned slightly apologetic. Sensing the change in his face, the old man followed up saying,

"My name is Kenzo. And you are in my bar. Now, who are you? And why were you in front of my shop?" Kenzo's eyes turned serene as he probed.

"My name is Ken. I was being carried by uncle Liam from my village…it was raining blood. Where's uncle Liam? Wasn't there anyone else with me?" Ken's eyes widened as he recalled everything he saw before passing out.

"Liam? Don't know what you are talking about. You were alone in the rain lying on the cold ground. And what village? Villages and countryside are history lessons. Kid, are you playing me?" Kenzo's voice grew angry with each sentence while his gaze sharpened on Ken.

"I am telling the truth! I come from a village named…named…I was never told the village name, but that it was our village." Ken's voice trailed off as his eyes displayed fragility, confusion and terror.

"So, you are telling me you don't even know where you came from? My bar is not an orphanage taking in lost children." Kenzo's words were tacitly implying that he couldn't shelter him.

"I can– I can work for you. Do you have any work? I will do my best in anything. I only need some food and a place to stay." Ken's mind ran as fast as it could trying to figure out what to say next.

"Hmm? That's not a bad deal. No money, only shelter and food." Kenzo spoke to himself out loud as he stood up, slowly walking towards the door before looking back asking,

"Kid, how old are you?"

"I am 8 years old, sir. And would you tell me the name of this land?" He answered absent-mindedly as his brain was trying as hard as it could to figure out what was happening.

"You can just call me 'Old Kenzo'. Name of this land? You do catch on pretty quick, kid. Money isn't necessarily a good thing either. I will feed you, shelter you and there are a lot of books that you can read to keep yourself company, in turn, you will clean the tables and the bar in the after-hours at night and also help out in the kitchen in the afternoon." Kenzo turned around to exit the room with a smirk plastered on his face as he said,

"Kid, this is SECTOR - 902."