Sin Sity

Kyren returned home, knowing he had the rest of today and Monday to prepare for the mission. He also needed to tell Grandma Windy that he was leaving. She'd probably be happy to see him getting out of the outskirts, but she'd know he was up to something. How would she take it? How was he supposed to tell her? He racked his brain, searching for the best way to break the news.

Shaking his head, he pushed the thought aside and brought up his system window. He had already spent his stat points on his own upgrades—now it was time to check Lydel's progress.

Sidekick: Lydel Sinclair

Stats:

Physical Constitution: C (25/50)

Strength: C+ (40/50)

Speed: B- (1/100)

Stamina: C+ (45/50)

Mana Pool: C- (15/50)

Hero Rank: 1000

Level: 5 (5/500)

Kyren raised an eyebrow. The Sidekick Improvement Plan had worked—Lydel had leveled up significantly, almost jumping a full tier in every stat. A twinge of jealousy crept up inside him. That was a massive upgrade for just one improvement, while Kyren had been grinding for every bit of progress.

He still had 50 stat points left, but they came from Lydel's missions, so he couldn't use them on himself. Instead, he checked Lydel's remaining Improvement Plans.

Next Improvement Plan Requirements:

50 Stat Points

Hero Rank 900

Kyren didn't think twice. He dumped the points in, ignoring the memory of what happened last time. His stat point balance dropped to zero.

Closing the system window, he exhaled, suddenly aware of how tired he was. Ever since unlocking the system, he and Lydel had spent night after night training, fighting, and hunting down local drug dealers. Sleep had become an afterthought.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

Kyren dreamed.

A man stood on a grand stage, addressing a roaring crowd. He looked like Kyren—same sharp features, same build—but his skin was darker, and he wore a black military uniform embroidered with golden thread. Two black-maned lions rested on each of his shoulders like emblems of power.

Beside him stood another man, pale with emerald-green eyes and short blond hair. He was clad in white military gear, with golden lions that had silver manes on his shoulders. There was an uncanny resemblance to Lydel—different, but eerily similar.

Behind them, the city lay in ruins.

The dark-skinned man spoke, his voice deep and commanding.

"With the death of the dictator who ruled this land, I have reclaimed it for the people." His head dipped low. "Many have died in pursuit of this, but I hope that the city we build will care for all."

The crowd erupted in cheers.

The man lifted his head, eyes blazing.

"From this day forward, this place shall be called Epsilon. I will protect it with my life, for it is ours now."

Kyren jolted awake, drenched in sweat. His pulse pounded in his ears.

"Was that me and Lydel?"

The room was dark—pitch black. But before he fell asleep, light had been streaming through his window. How long had he been out? He lay still, hoping he might slip back into the dream, hoping for answers.

Sleep came again, but the dream did not.

Morning light peeked through his window. Kyren sat up, running a hand over his face. What was that? Who were they?

They had looked too much like him and Lydel.

Was that the future? No. It couldn't be. He had named that city Epsilon.

But it didn't feel like a vision of the past, either. He knew so little about Epsilon's origins—nothing about two men founding it, no mention of a dictator being overthrown. His father's lineage didn't match the man in the vision. And his mother? She never spoke of her family. He had been too young to ask back then.

He forced himself to push the thoughts aside. He had more pressing matters.

Kyren made his way downstairs, greeted by the familiar sounds of children chattering and clinking dishes. The scent of breakfast filled the air. As he entered the kitchen, a plate was already set for him.

"Good morning, Kyren. How did you sleep?" Grandma Windy asked, smiling.

"I slept good, Grandma. The food smells amazing."

She handed him his meal and told him to dig in.

After the children finished eating and went off to their chores and studies, Kyren washed his plate. Just as he was about to leave, Grandma Windy's voice stopped him.

"Kyren."

He turned to face her.

"I heard about what you and Lydel did," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "And while I commend it… stop before you're in too deep."

A flicker of sadness crossed her eyes.

"There's more to this city—more to this world—than even I know," she murmured.

Kyren clenched his fists. "Grandma, I can't stop now. I know you just want me to live a better life, but I can't live that better life knowing I abandoned the people out here."

"I knew you'd say that." She sighed. "You care too much for people who won't even remember your sacrifice."

"They don't have to remember me," Kyren said. "I just need to help. Not just the outskirts—all of it." He met her gaze. "I promise you one thing. I never want to regret my choices. If I leave this place as it is, I know I'll regret it."

She exhaled, then pulled him into a tight hug.

"Go be a hero, then, son."

Kyren followed the trail out of the village toward the inner core of Epsilon. The road opened into a clearing. To the right stood a massive tree, taller than anything he had ever seen. To the left, the forest stretched into the distance.

He found a hiding spot just past the clearing, leaving a bag of food and water supplies behind for the journey. The plan was simple—wait for the carriage carrying the drugs, then follow it into Sintara,

hopefully leading them to a larger drug den.

Before heading back, he stopped by Lydel's house to finalize the plan. There wasn't much to discuss—everything was already set.

As he climbed out of the window, he glanced back. "See you in the morning."

Then he walked off, heading back to the orphanage.

Kyren had time to kill but nothing to do. He defaulted to old habits, stretching and working out on the floor until exhaustion set in. Finally, he collapsed onto his bed and let sleep take him.

And once again, he dreamed.

A young man stood in black armor—his armor—his sword dripping with blood. At his feet lay a man in a pool of crimson, a crown resting beside his lifeless head.

A voice rang out.

"That man has killed the king!"

The armored figure turned and ran. Kyren ran after him.

The man sprinted toward the back of the room and dove headfirst out a window. Kyren followed—

And woke up violently, gasping.

He stood, shaking off the unease. For once, my lack of historical knowledge is eating at me.

But there was no time for questions now.

I've got a mission. The past can wait.

He snuck downstairs, only to find Grandma Windy waiting with a plate of food.

"Eat this before you go," she said. "Just in case."

Kyren took the plate and sat down. "Please don't talk like that, Grandma. I'll come back. I'm a hero now." He grinned before digging in.

After finishing, he gave her one last hug.

Then he left to meet Lydel.

It was time to begin.