Arc - Genesis of Flux, Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Baptism by Blood

December 16, 998

Almost Midnight

South burst back to his feet, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. The fight with Forsterke wasn't over, he could see it in the way Forsterke moved. This wasn't just a sparring match Forsterke wanted to kill him.

"Is that all you've got?" South laughed, rolling his shoulders as he prepared for the next clash.

Forsterke wiped his own bleeding nose with a smirk. "You're tougher than I thought, South. But you're still just a dog chasing its tail."

They circled each other. Forsterke's movements were controlled, a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike. South knew he had to be careful. Forsterke wasn't just fighting to win, he was fighting to prove a point. South couldn't afford to lose.

Forsterke lunged forward, aiming to grapple South again. But this time, South was ready. As Forsterke shot low, South drove his knee up with all the force he could muster. His knee connected with Forsterke's face.

Forsterke staggered back, clutching his nose as blood poured down his face. He touched his fingers to the blood, then looked up at South with a smile. "You'll pay for that," he muttered.

South's heart pounded in his chest, but he wasn't about to back down. "You talk too much, Forsterke. Let's see if you can actually back it up, bitch."

They clashed again, this time with even more intensity. Forsterke's trained combat moves were met with South's wild, instinctual strikes. South ducked under a punch, delivering a brutal uppercut to Forsterke's jaw. Forsterke countered with a swift kick to South's ribs, but South absorbed the blow and pressed on, landing another punch to Forsterke's side.

The fight raged on, both men growing more bruised with each passing hit. He could see the frustration growing on Forsterke's face with every hit that landed.

Finally, Forsterke spoke, his expression pissed off. "You're pathetic. You really joined Leichen just to find your sister? What kind of a joke are you?"

Something inside South snapped. "You don't know a fucking thing about me or my sister," he said, his voice filled with rage.

Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, South snapped. He dodged a punch aimed at his head, then countered with a powerful hook to Forsterke's jaw, sending him reeling. South didn't let up. He followed with a series of rapid blows, a right hook to the ribs, a knee to the gut, an elbow to the back of the head. Forsterke was stumbling, trying to regain his balance, but South's assault was relentless.

Forsterke managed to get a grip on South's arm, trying to pull him into another grapple, but South broke free, landing a knee to Forsterke's stomach. Forsterke doubled over in pain, and South seized the opportunity, grabbing Forsterke by the collar and slamming him into the ground.

South straddled him, his fists raining down. "Don't you dare talk about my sister!" South shouted. "You don't know a thing!"

Forsterke's once-cocky expression was now one of desperation as he tried to fend off South's blows. But South's strength was overwhelming. Blood streamed from Forsterke's nose and mouth, and his vision blurred as South continued to pummel him into the ground.

Just as South was about to deliver the finishing blow, Zofia's voice cut through the chaos. "Enough!" she shouted.

South hesitated for a moment, breathing heavily, his fists still clenched. Zofia stepped into the pit, placing a hand on South's shoulder and pulling him back. "That's enough, South," she said firmly. "You've made your point."

Reluctantly, South stood up, stepping away from Forsterke, who laid bleeding on the ground. Forsterke glared up at South, rage and humiliation written all over his face, South wasn't someone to be taken lightly.

Zofia helped Forsterke to his feet, though he roughly shook off her assistance. She turned to South. "This isn't over yet."

Before South could respond, a shadow fell over them. Donjivuk, who had been watching the entire fight from the platform above, jumped down with a smooth landing. He stood tall, his eyes unamused as he looked between South and Forsterke.

"You're pathetic, brother," Donjivuk said, not even sparing Forsterke a glance as he spoke. "Letting an amateur like this get the better of you?"

Forsterke's fists clenched in anger, but he didn't respond, the shame evident in his eyes.

Donjivuk shifted to South. "Let's see if you can handle someone who knows what they're doing," Donjivuk said.

Zofia, sensing the conflict, stepped back, giving them space. "Donjivuk, you're up next," she said.

South squared up, ready to face his next opponent. The bruises from his fight with Forsterke ached, but the fire inside him hadn't dimmed. He was ready for whatever came next.

Donjivuk and South took their positions on opposite sides of the pit, the tension in the room rising. The silence was heavy.

Zofia gave the nod. "Begin."

The fight was on.

South barely had time to recover before Donjivuk was upon him. Unlike Forsterke's grappling style, Donjivuk moved with flow. His stance was unmistakable, Muay Thai. South had heard of it but had never faced anyone who practiced it.

Donjivuk opened with a series of powerful strikes. His elbows and knees were his primary weapons. South tried to block, but Donjivuk was strategic. A sharp elbow strike to South's temple sent him reeling, followed by a knee to his ribs that knocked the breath out of his lungs.

South swung back, trying to land a punch, but Donjivuk effortlessly dodged and countered with a low kick to South's thigh, forcing him to stagger. The pain shot up his leg, making it difficult to stay balanced.

"Come on," Donjivuk taunted,. "Show me what you've got."

South gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain. He lunged at Donjivuk, trying to close the distance, but Donjivuk was too quick. Another knee strike connected with South's stomach, and he doubled over in pain. Before he could recover, Donjivuk wrapped an arm around South's neck and pulled him into a tight clinch, driving his knees repeatedly into South's sides.

With a final, knee to South's chest, Donjivuk threw him to the ground. South gasped for air, his vision swimming as he struggled to get up. But Donjivuk wasn't finished. He quickly maneuvered behind South, locking him into a chokehold.

"Tap out," Donjivuk ordered. "Or I'll put you to sleep."

South struggled, his hands clawing at Donjivuk's arms, but the hold was too tight. His vision darkened, and he realized he had no choice but to tap out. His hand beat weakly against the floor until Donjivuk released him, stepping back and allowing South to collapse onto his side, gasping for breath.

Donjivuk wiped the sweat from his forehead, nodding respectfully to South. "You've got spirit, but you've got a long way to go with this melee stuff."

Forsterke, who had been observing from the sidelines, approached Donjivuk. "Stop showing off."

Forsterke looked at South. "Well, well, if it isn't South. Thought you'd be good for something, but look at you now."

South's breathing was heavy as he looked at Forsterke. "Fuck off, Forsterke. I'm not in the mood for your bullshit."

Forsterke chuckled. "Careful, South. Keep running your mouth, and you might end up needing more than just a tap out to get out of here."

Zofia, sensing the confrontation, guided South out of the room. As they walked down the long corridor, South's fists clenched at his sides. "That bastard really thinks he can push me around," he muttered. "He tried to nearly kill me before Donjivuk even got a chance to fight."

Zofia glanced back at the door they'd just exited. "Forsterke's got a reputation for a reason. But don't let him get to you. He's just trying to provoke you. Focus on what you need to do."

Zofia led South to his room, which was at the end of a long corridor. When they reached the door, Zofia turned to him. "Get some rest. You've got your first mission tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning."

South nodded, the door sliding open automatically. The room was simple but comfortable, with a neatly made bed, a wardrobe filled with the same clothes Fischer had given him, and a small desk. He looked around, noting the mini fridge tucked into a corner, and a small table beside his bed.

He walked over to the table, finding a pack of rice crackers. He smiled, picking one up and crunching into it. "Not a bad snack after a rough day," he muttered to himself.

South took some time to explore the room. He turned on the shower, testing the water temperature before stepping back and opening the wardrobe. It was filled with the same tactical gear and casual clothes he'd been given earlier. He noted the mini fridge next, finding it stocked with various foods. He took out a small sandwich and some fruit, eating them with a glass of water.

As he finished his snack, he glanced at the rice crackers on the table, giving them a nod before finishing them off. "Interesting day," he said aloud. "Let's see what tomorrow brings."

Finally, South stripped off his clothing, leaving them neatly folded on a chair. He slipped into bed, pulling the sheets over him. The room was quiet and comfortable.

He let out a sigh, closing his eyes and letting sleep overtake him. The day's events played back in his mind, and he hoped tomorrow would bring new challenges, but perhaps more favorable outcomes.

Azheinn's Era Secrets

Welcome back to Azheinn's Era Secrets, where we break down the chaos that is these three assassins. We've got two blood brothers, Donjivuk and Forsterke, and then there's South—who's not related to them but somehow ended up in their mess anyway.

Let's get into it.

Donjivuk Novak

The eldest, the strategist, and the guy who's already ten steps ahead while you're still trying to figure out what's happening. Donjivuk is cold, calculating, and doesn't have time for incompetence. He's a Muay Thai expert, a master tactician, and somehow always manages to make Forsterke feel inferior without saying a word.

Age: 18

Role: Second Division Assassin

Nationality: Slovakian

Likes: Strategy, control, efficiency, silence, people who follow orders.

Dislikes: Incompetence, wasted potential, explaining things twice, Forsterke's never-ending need for validation.

Quote: "If you're going to fight, at least try to make it interesting."

Forsterke Novak

The youngest brother, a walking impulse problem, and someone who never backs down from a fight, even when he should. He's a grappling specialist who believes brute strength solves everything, including arguments. He idolizes Donjivuk but also resents how easily his brother outshines him. Constantly at war with South for no reason other than pure stubbornness.

Age: 16

Role: Third Division Assassin

Nationality: Slovakian

Likes: Winning, proving people wrong, being acknowledged, talking shit, attention.

Dislikes: Losing, being ignored, Donjivuk treating him like an afterthought, South existing.

Quote: "Shut up and fight me."

Alternate Universe Scene:

The Brotherly Bonding Exercise (a.k.a. Forced Teamwork Hell)

Did You Know? There's nothing quite as effective at fostering teamwork as strapping two people together and forcing them to suffer in unison. Donjivuk definitely knew this when he decided to handcuff South and Forsterke together for an entire day.

The Setup

One day, Donjivuk decided that South and Forsterke needed to "learn to work together."

Naturally, neither of them agreed.

South: "This is the worst idea you've ever had."

Forsterke: "Yeah, what the hell, Donjivuk?"

Donjivuk: "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you think you had a choice?"

Click! Handcuffs. Solid, unbreakable, 24 hours of suffering begins.

---

The Hellish Experience

1. Combat Training

Donjivuk expected them to learn synchronization. Instead, he got absolute chaos.

South tried to rush in—Forsterke, being more strategic, held back. Result? They tripped over each other.

Forsterke: "I swear to god, stop pulling—"

South: "Then MOVE FASTER."

At one point, South dodged a punch… only for Forsterke to get yanked into it instead.

Donjivuk, watching from the sidelines: "This is better than I expected."

---

2. Mealtime: An Actual Battle

South eats fast. Forsterke takes his time.

Picture this: South wolfing down food while Forsterke tries to keep his plate steady.

Forsterke: "STOP MOVING, YOU'RE SPILLING EVERYTHING!"

South: "Eat faster, dumbass!"

They nearly flip the entire table when South reaches for his drink and yanks Forsterke's arm in the process.

---

3. Sleeping Arrangements: A Nightmare

South sleeps on his side. Forsterke sleeps on his back.

The second South tries to turn over, Forsterke gets dragged with him.

Forsterke: "I SWEAR IF YOU MOVE ONE MORE TIME—"

South: "WELL, MAYBE DON'T SLEEP LIKE A CORPSE."

South snores. Forsterke spends the entire night contemplating homicide.

By morning, they look like they barely survived a war.

---

The Training Scene: Getting Nowhere Fast

After a night of no sleep, Donjivuk decided the next exercise would be a true test of endurance. The drill was simple: Evade and eliminate. South and Forsterke were supposed to navigate an obstacle course while handcuffed to each other, complete with traps and training dummies. Sounds easy, right?

South charged ahead with the usual reckless enthusiasm, his natural instinct to power through obstacles taking over. Forsterke, trying to keep up, struggled to stay on his feet, constantly being dragged along as South surged ahead.

South: "MOVE YOUR ASS, FORSTERKE!"

Forsterke: "I'M TRYING TO MOVE, BUT YOU'RE YANKING ME LIKE A TUG-OF-WAR ROPE!"

And then it happened, one of the training dummies, set to simulate an enemy attack, suddenly swung a heavy fist.

South, noticing the incoming punch, smirked. He pulled Forsterke with him, intentionally dragging him into the line of fire.

South: "I think you've been talking too much, huh?"

Forsterke: "WHAT—?"

SMACK!

Forsterke took the full brunt of the punch right to the face. His head snapped back, and he stumbled, dazed and angry.

Forsterke: "WHAT THE HELL, SOUTH?! DID YOU PLAN THAT?!"

South, still in motion, shrugged without breaking stride, his expression casual. "What can I say? You were talking trash. Karma's a bitch."

Forsterke, now with a red mark forming on his cheek, growled as he wiped the dirt and spit from his lips. "You're lucky I'm handcuffed to you, or I'd—"

South: "Or you'd what? bitch some more?"

Forsterke shot him a death glare as he wiped his nose, but it didn't stop South from speeding ahead.

Donjivuk, watching the chaos unfold. "Well, at least they're keeping it entertaining."

Forsterke, still fuming, had no choice but to follow along, hoping that one day, he'd get his revenge.

But for now, he had to endure the agony of being dragged by a reckless idiot—and all while trying not to get hit again.

---

The Aftermath

When the 24 hours are up, Donjivuk finally removes the cuffs.

South: immediately stepping away "I am NEVER doing that again."

Forsterke: cracking his wrist "You owe me so much for this, Donjivuk."

Donjivuk: "Oh, I don't owe you anything. That was for my entertainment."

---

Lesson Learned?

Nope. If anything, South and Forsterke hate each other more. But at least Donjivuk got to enjoy a good show.