The Awakening
Evryn sprinted through the burning village, his lungs burning, his injured shoulder screaming in pain. But none of it mattered.
He had to find Mira.
It didn't matter where she was—he would find her.
Was it selfish? Choosing to save someone he knew rather than helping the others? Yes. But he didn't care. He couldn't lose her. Not her. Not anyone he was close to. Not again. Not ever again.
His heart pounded as he inhaled thick smoke, the scorching heat stinging his eyes, making them water. Each breath was like swallowing fire, and his nausea worsened. The blood trickling down his forehead blurred his vision, but he kept running.
Then, he saw it.
The coffee shop.
Or what was left of it.
Flames consumed the building, eating away at the wooden structure, the roof caving in with a deafening crash, sending more smoke billowing into the sky.
Evryn shielded his face with his sleeve, coughing violently. His throat burned. His eyes burned. His mind burned with fear.
"Mira!" he shouted, desperate, hoping—praying—for a response.
Nothing.
Dread wrapped around his chest, suffocating him. His thoughts spiraled.
Where is she? Is she—
Then, through the chaos—
"Come on!"
A woman's voice.
Evryn's head snapped toward the sound.
Through the haze of smoke and flames, he saw them—a group emerging from a burning building.
Mira.
She was leading elderly villagers and children out of what used to be a butcher's shop.
Relief flooded him, but only for a moment.
His footsteps pounded against the scorched ground as he rushed toward them.
The sudden sound startled the group. Fear flashed in their eyes—they thought he was a raider.
But Mira recognized him immediately.
Her tense shoulders relaxed, and a glimmer of hope lit up in her eyes.
"It's okay! He's with us!" she reassured the others, her voice shaky but firm.
Evryn came to a halt in front of her, still catching his breath.
Evryn? What are you doing this deep in the village?" Mira's voice wavered, still shaken. "We were hiding in the shop when the explosions started…"
She trailed off, glancing back at the frightened villagers. The weight of the situation pressed down on both of them.
Evryn looked down at her legs. They were shaking—just like her arms.
She was afraid.
His heart clenched at the sight, a sickening feeling twisting in his gut. It hurt him to see her like this.
"It's okay. You're safe now," Evryn said firmly, forcing steadiness into his voice.
"How are you so sure?" an elderly villager asked, wary.
"I know a place where you all can go."
"Where?" Mira asked, a glimmer of hope in her voice.
"The inn. That's where I saw everyone heading before I ran into the village."
"How can you be certain it's safe?" the same elder pressed.
Evryn met his gaze. "You can trust me."
Tink. Tink. Tink.
A metallic clinking echoed through the air.
A small metal ball rolled toward them.
Evryn's eyes widened in horror.
Grenade.
BOOM!
The explosion ripped through the air.
The force sent Evryn flying backward, slamming him into the ground.
Screams filled the night.
His head spun. His vision blurred. The world swayed as he fought to regain control of his body.
Blood streamed down his forehead, warm and thick, flooding into his left eye. His entire left field of vision turned crimson.
His breath hitched.
His body refused to move.
Evryn gritted his teeth and slammed his head against the hilt of his sword, desperate to shake himself out of the daze.
Get up. Get up.
His mind slowly cleared, but then—
"No, stop it!"
A voice.
His heart dropped.
Evryn forced his gaze upward.
Mira.
She stood in front of a child, shielding them with her body.
Bodies littered the ground. Some of the villagers… gone.
Their lives snuffed out in an instant.
Evryn's pupils trembled. His breath caught in his throat. His shoulder throbbed, blood pooling from the wound.
He barely managed to push himself up, using his sword for support.
"Stop it!" he shouted, his voice raw, disoriented.
One of the men looked down at him, sneering. "Aww, is someone upset?"
Laughter erupted around him.
"Let go of me!"
Mira smacked one of them across the face.
"You damn bitch!"
The man's blaster fired.
A sharp gasp left Mira's lips as the shot tore into her side. She collapsed, clutching the wound.
The little girl behind her screamed, falling to her knees, sobbing as she grabbed onto Mira.
Evryn's body stiffened. His mind spiraled.
Again.
It was happening again.
The voices in his head laughed. Mocking. Taunting.
No, no, no, no—
His breath shook. His grip tightened around his sword's hilt.
His teeth clenched. His blood dripped. His heart pounded.
And in the distance, the old man watched.
Silent. Still.
Observing.
Evryn's mind twisted, drowning in the chaos.
The gunfire. The cries.
People scrambling for their lives.
Clinging to them.
"Dumb bitch, sh—"
The man's voice cut off.
Silence.
The others turned—
Finn's head was missing.
Blood spurted from the open wound, his body collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.
The man beside him screamed.
Finn's body collapsed, his weapon slipping from his grasp. Blood pooled beneath him, soaking into the dirt.
The man beside Finn's lifeless corpse recoiled in horror. His breath caught as he turned—only to see him.
Evryn stood still.
Fire raged around him, casting his figure in flickering light. His sword, dripping with blood. Finn's severed head, lying not far from his feet.
The man's body trembled.
"I-I'll kill you!" he screamed, desperation cracking his voice.
The others raised their weapons.
Blaster fire erupted.
Chew! Chew! Chew!
But Evryn was already moving.
Like a wolf—low, deadly, his sword dragging against the ground. His speed was unnatural, closing the distance before they could react.
He leaped.
An impossible height.
They barely had time to raise their weapons before—
Schlink!
A body hit the ground. Evryn's blade pierced clean through his chest.
The man to Evryn's right turned—
Slash!
A scream tore through the air. His hands—gone. Blood spurted as he collapsed.
To the left—another raised his weapon. Fired.
Blaster rounds slammed into Evryn's body.
"Aaaahhh!"
Pain. Burning. Rage.
Evryn didn't falter. His sword swung—
A throat cut open. A body dropped.
The last man stood frozen, eyes darting between the corpses of his fallen comrades.
This wasn't a fight. This was a massacre.
And Evryn?
There was no humanity left in his eyes.
A swirling, cosmic purple burned in his irises.
The last man collapsed to his knees, terror gripping him.
"I-I'm sorry! I won't come here ever again! Please, listen—I'll tell you anything you want, just—please!" His voice cracked, his sobs shaking his body.
Evryn said nothing.
Slash.
His head rolled.
Silence.
No words.
Just pure, merciless action.