A Title Unwanted

The bunker's metal walls pulsed red. The emergency lights flickering like dying embers, casted long, shifting shadows. It was a sudden break in the silence when the alarm had cut through, a harsh mechanical wail that seemed to synchronize with Kael's heartbeat, pounding faster with every pulse. But he'd barely registered the noise. His mind was somewhere else, drowning in the weight of what he had just read.

The file that sat open in front of him pages were brittle with age and brutal in content.

Subject: Commander Elias Solis

Status: Terminated

Subject: Dr. Marianne Solis

Status: Terminated

Subject:???

Status: Terminated

Subject...

Status: Terminated

Terminated. Terminated. Termin—

It was sterile word for something monstrous. A bureaucratic execution. A name crossed off a list. A decision made by people who never had to hold the blade themselves.

At that last thought, Kael's grip tightened on the metal table. It was the present situation that brought him to his knees, but his mind wasn't on the present, not anymore.

It was on the past.

On Ash Canyon.

On the years of whispers, of laughter, of eyes that never looked at him with anything but disgust or ridicule.

"He's still alive?"

"Why does that kid never burn?"

"Freak. He should've turned Hollow by now."

Kael remembered every single word.

****

Five years ago.

The wind howled through Ash Canyon, kicking up dust in violent spirals. The sky above—beyond the jagged rock walls that shielded the city—burned with gold and rust, a reminder that the Hollow Sun still ruled beyond the enclave's fragile refuge.

Kael stood at the outer edge of the city, where the canyon's protection wavered, where the sunlight spilled onto the ground in jagged streaks.

This is where the other children would gathered behind him, on the days he'd grew tired of running. Their voices were always sharp with cruelty, and on this day, they were no different.

"Go on, then."

Jerren Vale. Kael didn't need to look back to recognize that annoyingly handsome voice. And to his irritation, the voice matched the face, so naturally, everyone one with honest eyes followed his lead—almost always.

His voice carried weight, the kind that came from bloodlines and arrogance. The eldest son of a decorated Chosen family—one of Ash Canyon's own golden warriors-in-the-making.

With all of the different stares burning holes straight through him, Kael thought it best to avoid their contest as if that would save his life, so, as ironic as that sounded, he keep his back turned. But Jerren didn't let up.

"Step out into the light, Lesser!"

Lesser. It was a insult. That title marked the class of a particular Hollow. The weak ones. But Kael, and the others, knew that Jerren meant it in an entirely different way. Basically, it meant that one was less than or, depending how you said it, a freak. No matter how you put it, to earn that title eradicated you're chances at social acceptance, and in a place where everyone knew everyone, Kael knew exactly what that meant. So he stood there, did nothing, and let the taunting continue.

The others snickered as the Golden-Boy went on, but there was something in their laughter—something more than just amusement at his expense. Something hungry.

They wanted a spectacle.

Kael should have walked away. But he was tired. Tired of the whispers, the doubts, the suffocating weight of a title that carried nothing but pity and disdain.

"He never burns."

"It isn't normal."

"A freak."

'Maybe they're right,' he thought, though it wasn't the first time.

So he took a step forward, and the light touched his skin. Golden warmth sinked into his flesh, then gasps rippled through the group, and someone cursed. Then another laughed, but it was hollow and uncertain.

Minutes passed.

Five. Then Ten. Then Fifteen.

And Kael did not burn.

The laughter died, then—then the fear began.

Behind him, they were watching. Not just the kids. The adults, too.

"Look at him."

"He's still here?"

"Disgusting."

He could feel their eyes weighing on him, branding him for something that was out of his control. Not because he was different.

But because he existed at all.

Ash Canyon was a city built on survival, not mercy. Families clung together like dying embers, guarding their bloodlines as if they were the only thing keeping them from being swallowed by the Hollow Sun. To be without a family was a failure of fate. But to be without both parents was an abomination.

Kael had never known what it was like to have a family. He was born into loss. And because of that, he had never belonged.

"He's bad luck."

"He shouldn't have survived."

"It would've been better if he turned Hollow."

He'd heard it all. And still—

He stayed.

****

Present Day

The bunker's steel door rattled violently. Someone was waiting on the other side.

Kael inhaled slowly and did his best to push the past aside. This was the present, and he had bigger problems now.

Arvin was already moving. Soon, his hands danced over a hidden console, silencing the alarms with a click. Then, slowly, the mechanical wail faded into a dull hum, pulsing like a dying heartbeat.

A moment later, a voice from beyond the door boomed.

"Open up!"

Kael glanced at Arvin. No name. No rank. No introduction. That was never a good sign.

"Follow my lead, kid." Arvin gave Kael a nod that meant something he wasn't completely sure of.

However, Kael gave a stiff nod back. Then he watched as the door hissed open. Sudden floodlights blazed into the bunker, peeling away the darkness. And there they were. Five men standing outside, clad in black tactical armor, held weapons with unsettling ease.

Their leader—a tall, broad-shouldered man with gray eyes—stepped forward.

"We're searching for survivors."

His tone was flat, but something about it was obvious, perhaps, not a request, but a statement.

"A convoy was attacked near Hollowshard Pass," he continued. "We tracked footprints leading here."

Arvin's face didn't shift. He simply nodded toward Kael, grateful that it wasn't some sand pirate looking for easy bounty but a unit of Military Police here to aid any survivors.

"Then you found them." He said after the pause.

The man's gaze flicked to Kael.

"You were part of the convoy?"

Kael's muscles tightened.

"Yes."

There was a beat of silence, as the officer turned to face his unit, then back to Kael.

"And yet, everyone else is dead."

Kael's stomach coiled. Something was wrong. If they were here to aid survivors, why would that be there first line of questioning.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice sharper than intended.

The officer's eyes narrowed slightly. And in that moment Kael saw something—a twitch struggling to hold back a grin. Then the response pierced through the officer's lips.

"It means you're under arrest."