Straight-forward

Emotions—the flaw of humanity, the ultimate mistake in our creation.

Broken and bleeding, the beast lay crumpled before me, its body mangled under the weight of my rage. But it didn't change anything. No. If I had let it gnaw on me, I wouldn't feel this pain, this anger. And the worst part? I don't even know why I feel it.

I fell to my knees, staring at the strange energy swirling around me. What is this? I wondered. Is this… an ability? My thoughts were a mess, colliding in endless loops. Normally, I wouldn't have been able to kill a grade-three beast in a single blow. Normally, I wouldn't have even tried to face one. I could've been killed—not that I care. But Elizabeth would care. At least, I hope she does.

I stared at my hands. They felt hot, trembling with an overwhelming power, as if I could snap bones with the barest effort. Yet, this strength didn't matter—not now. There was something more urgent to deal with: Precious. Though even that name wasn't her real one. Precious was just a fragment of a story long gone, but one I couldn't let go of completely.

I had strayed too far from my goal, distracted by the chaos of the last few days. Elizabeth—three days had passed, and I still hadn't reached her. I had to find her. Even if I couldn't protect her through it all, I needed to see her. Even if just for a moment.

So, I raised a fist and hit myself—hard. Precise. The impact knocked me out briefly, forcing my mind to reset. Ten seconds later, I was back on my feet. My face was blank again, the storm within reduced to calm indifference. With a steady breath, I turned and walked back to Precious.

When I reached the camp, there she was—rummaging through my bag. I knew what she was searching for. Humans… your species is so predictable. Born to lie, deceive, and conquer—the worst species to exist.

I approached silently. She didn't even notice.

"Precious."

She froze, whipping her head around, her face etched with guilt. "Oh, hey! I wasn't doi—"

My hand moved swiftly, slicing her throat open.

Her blood sprayed across me, the metallic scent filling my nostrils. It was intoxicating—a symphony of revenge. She convulsed on the ground, gurgling, mumbling incoherently as she writhed like a wounded animal. But I wasn't done.

I knelt, pinning her down as I stitched her throat closed. Slowly. Methodically. She wouldn't die—not yet. Not until I was finished. I already knew her ability, and now, it was useless.

Prophecy. That was her blessing. The ability to make her words manifest as reality. She could convince someone they were dead with just her voice—a master of illusion at its peak. But her power had a flaw: it didn't work on anyone who knew its secret. And without a voice? She was powerless.

I rendered her silent because once, she had rendered me powerless. Back then, when I was still Okechukwu.

With her incapacitated, I hoisted her onto my shoulder, blood dripping down my back as I began to sprint. Every muscle in my body burned, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. I had to find Elizabeth before the sun set.

"Why are you all so bent on killing me?!"

Elizabeth's voice rang out, defiant and fierce.

I ran faster.