The sun crept over the horizon, casting a gentle, golden light across the small house perched on a hill near the village. The house, modest yet cozy, stood apart from the cluster of homes below, surrounded by a tranquil landscape of trees and open fields. The morning air was fresh, filled with the sounds of birds chirping and the distant rustle of leaves as a soft breeze whispered through the branches.
Inside, the warmth of the morning seeped into the small, three-bedroom house. Nicholas, a five-year-old with wide, curious eyes, stirred in his bed as the soft light filtered into his room. His mother, a young woman with a kind smile and a comforting presence, leaned over him, gently shaking him awake.
"Rise and shine, sweetheart. Breakfast is ready," she said, her voice as soothing as the morning itself, her red Aura faintly visible, wrapping around her like a warm embrace.
Nicholas rubbed his eyes and sat up, glancing around his room, which was scattered with the remnants of his latest imaginative play. Wooden toys, hand-carved by his mother, lay strewn across the floor, and a small stack of books about heroes and legends sat by his bed. The enticing smell of freshly baked bread and sizzling eggs wafted through the house, pulling Nicholas from his bed and guiding him toward the kitchen.
In the next room, Aaron, Nicholas's ten-year-old brother, was already awake and focused. He sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed in deep concentration, his Aura gently pulsing around him as he meditated. Aaron was different from most boys his age—serious, disciplined, and deeply connected to his Aura, even at such a young age. His determination to grow stronger, to master the power within him, was evident in every breath he took.
Nicholas, still in his pajamas, wandered into Aaron's room and plopped down in front of him, mimicking his brother's posture with an exaggerated look of concentration on his face.
Aaron peeked one eye open and smirked. "Why are you copying me again, Nick?"
"I'm not copying you," Nicholas shot back with a pout. "I'm just starting my training early so I can be stronger than you."
Aaron chuckled and opened his eyes fully, his smirk softening into a fond smile. "Stronger than me, huh? You've got a long way to go, little brother."
Nicholas stuck out his tongue playfully. "I'll get there. You'll see!"
Aaron couldn't help but laugh at his brother's determination, the sound echoing through the small house. "Well, don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're smaller," he teased, reaching over to ruffle Nicholas's hair.
"Hey, stop it!" Nicholas protested, squirming away, but he was laughing too.
Their playful banter quickly escalated into a light-hearted wrestling match, with Aaron pretending to let Nicholas pin him down before easily reversing their positions. Nicholas giggled as Aaron tickled him mercilessly, the sounds of their laughter filling the house with warmth and joy.
Their mother appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, but with a smile on her face. "Alright, you two, that's enough. Breakfast is getting cold."
The boys quickly scrambled to their feet, still grinning as they followed their mother into the kitchen. The table was already set with plates of eggs, bread, and fruit, a simple but hearty meal that smelled like home. As they ate, the morning sun bathed the room in a golden glow, making everything feel safe and perfect.
Their mother watched them with a contented smile, her heart swelling with love and pride. Her own Aura, a deep and vibrant red, had once been a force to be reckoned with in her youth. She had been a skilled Aura specialist, known for her strength and passion, but those days were behind her. Now, all she wanted was to provide a peaceful, happy life for her sons, far from the violence and chaos of her past.
This was their life—simple, joyful, and filled with love. But even as they laughed and enjoyed their morning, there was an unspoken understanding between the mother and Aaron, a shared sense that this peace, while precious, was fragile. And though they wouldn't say it out loud, both knew that this peaceful life could not last forever.
As the day wore on, the warmth of the morning gave way to the cool embrace of evening. The golden hues of the sunset bathed the landscape in a soft light, casting long shadows across the village. After finishing their chores and helping their mother with the day's tasks, Aaron told Nicholas that he would be heading into the village to visit Ezekiel.
"Can I come with you, Aaron?" Nicholas asked eagerly, his eyes bright with excitement.
Aaron hesitated for a moment, glancing at their mother, who was cleaning up after dinner. She looked up and smiled at them, a knowing look in her eyes.
"Not today, Nick. Ezekiel and I have some things to work on," Aaron said, ruffling his brother's hair. "But next time, okay? You can come and play with him while I help out."
Nicholas pouted but nodded, accepting his brother's decision. Aaron gave him a quick hug before heading out the door, calling out a quick goodbye to their mother as he left the house.
The path to Ezekiel's shack wound down the hill and through the edge of the village. It was a short walk, one Aaron had taken many times before. The shack was small and unassuming, nestled among a cluster of trees. Despite its humble appearance, there was something special about the place, something that always made Aaron feel both calm and energized whenever he visited.
Ezekiel's shack had a small farm attached to it, with rows of vegetables and herbs growing in neat lines. A few chickens pecked at the ground nearby, clucking softly as Aaron approached. The old man was already outside, tending to his garden with practiced ease. Even in his mid-50s, Ezekiel moved with the grace and precision of someone who had spent a lifetime mastering his body and his Aura.
"Evening, Aaron," Ezekiel greeted without looking up, his voice carrying a warmth that matched the setting sun. "Right on time, as always."
"Evening, Ezekiel," Aaron replied, stepping forward to help with the garden. "What do you need me to do today?"
Ezekiel finally looked up, a small smile on his weathered face. "Why don't you start with the weeds over by the fence? They've been getting a bit unruly."
Aaron nodded and set to work, pulling up the stubborn weeds with focused determination. As he worked, Ezekiel watched him with a keen eye, noting the boy's strength and control. There was a quiet pride in Ezekiel's gaze, mixed with a hint of something else—something more guarded, more serious.
After a while, Ezekiel set down his tools and walked over to Aaron. "You've been doing well with your training, Aaron. I can see the progress you're making."
Aaron looked up, his face lighting up with pride at the compliment. "Thank you, Ezekiel. I'm trying my best."
Ezekiel nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Good. But remember, it's not just about strength. Control is just as important—knowing when to use your Aura and when to hold back. That's something most people don't understand until it's too late."
Aaron listened intently, absorbing the older man's words. He respected Ezekiel deeply, not just as a mentor, but as someone who had lived through things Aaron could barely imagine. Ezekiel was more than just an old man with stories—he was a link to a world of power and responsibility that Aaron was just beginning to understand.
They continued working in comfortable silence, with Ezekiel occasionally offering advice or correcting Aaron's form. It wasn't long before the garden was in perfect shape, the rows of vegetables standing proudly in the fading light.
"Come inside," Ezekiel said once they were finished. "I've got something for you."
Aaron followed him into the shack, which was just as humble on the inside as it was outside. The walls were lined with shelves filled with books, tools, and various knickknacks that Ezekiel had collected over the years. In the corner of the room, a small wooden table held a steaming pot of tea and two cups.
Ezekiel poured the tea and handed a cup to Aaron, who accepted it gratefully. They sat in silence for a moment, sipping the hot, soothing liquid.
"I've been thinking," Ezekiel began after a while, his tone more serious. "You're getting stronger, Aaron. But strength alone won't be enough in the days to come. There's a storm on the horizon—something that's been brewing for a long time. When it comes, you'll need to be ready."
Aaron looked at him, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Ezekiel's eyes darkened, and for a brief moment, Aaron saw a glimpse of the man Ezekiel used to be—a fierce warrior who had fought countless battles and seen more than his share of death and destruction.
"There are forces in this world, Aaron, that are beyond our control," Ezekiel said quietly. "And sometimes, those forces come knocking when we least expect it. All we can do is be prepared and make sure we're strong enough to protect what we hold dear."
Aaron swallowed, the weight of Ezekiel's words settling in his chest. He didn't fully understand what the old man was talking about, but he could sense the gravity of the situation. Something was coming—something dangerous—and he had to be ready.
"I'll do whatever it takes," Aaron said, his voice steady despite the uncertainty he felt. "I'll get stronger, and I'll protect Nicholas and Mom. I promise."
Ezekiel nodded, a look of respect in his eyes. "I know you will, Aaron. You have the heart of a warrior. Just remember to stay true to yourself and to those you care about. That's what really matters."
They finished their tea in silence, the words unspoken but understood between them. As Aaron prepared to leave, Ezekiel placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Take care, Aaron. And don't hesitate to come to me if you ever need anything—whether it's training or just someone to talk to."
"Thanks, Ezekiel," Aaron replied, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the tea. "I will."
With that, Aaron left the shack and made his way back home, the weight of Ezekiel's words lingering in his mind. The night air was cool and crisp, and as he walked, Aaron couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him from the shadows. He quickened his pace, eager to return to the safety of his family.
But even as he reached the house and saw the warm light spilling from the windows, Aaron knew that things would never be the same again. The peace they had known was fragile, and it wouldn't take much to shatter it completely.
The next day as the evening sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the small village, Aaron stood opposite Ezekiel in the clearing outside the shack. The air was still, the world around them quiet as if nature itself was holding its breath in anticipation of what was to come.
"Ready, Aaron?" Ezekiel asked, his voice calm, but with a playful edge. His blue Aura flickered faintly around him, barely noticeable—just a subtle halo of energy that clung close to his body.
Aaron nodded, his expression serious. His own blue Aura flared to life, much more pronounced than Ezekiel's, a small but fierce flame-like energy that surrounded him. Though still young, Aaron had an impressive command over his Aura, far beyond what most would expect from a boy his age. But even so, he knew he was still leagues behind Ezekiel, who had years of experience and skill.
Ezekiel smiled, noting the intensity in Aaron's gaze. "Remember, it's not just about how much Aura you use, but how you control it. Let's see if you can land a hit on this old man today, hmm?"
Without another word, Aaron launched himself forward, his speed almost a blur as his Aura-enhanced legs propelled him across the clearing. He aimed a punch straight at Ezekiel's chest, the force of it strong enough to send most men sprawling. But Ezekiel sidestepped with ease, his movements smooth and deliberate.
"Good speed," Ezekiel commented as he twisted around to avoid another punch. "But you're overextending. Keep your center of gravity balanced."
Aaron gritted his teeth, adjusting his stance as he continued to press the attack. His fists and feet flew with a flurry of strikes, each one faster and more precise than the last. He moved with a combination of youthful energy and the beginnings of true martial skill, his Aura flickering brightly with each motion.
Ezekiel, however, was unfazed. He deflected Aaron's blows with minimal effort, using just enough Aura to stay ahead of the boy without overpowering him. Despite Aaron's best efforts, it was clear that Ezekiel wasn't even close to using his full strength. His Aura remained controlled, calm, and steady—a stark contrast to the fiery energy Aaron was expending.
"You're getting better," Ezekiel said, dodging a particularly fierce kick. "But remember, the goal isn't just to hit your opponent. It's to understand their movements, anticipate them, and then strike with precision."
Aaron growled in frustration, but he didn't let up. He spun around, aiming a low sweep at Ezekiel's legs, only to find the old man already leaping gracefully into the air, his own kick aimed downward in a counterattack. Aaron barely managed to roll out of the way, the force of Ezekiel's kick creating a small crater in the earth where Aaron had been standing.
Sweat dripped down Aaron's brow as he scrambled to his feet, his Aura still burning brightly, though he could feel his energy waning. Ezekiel landed lightly, his movements still fluid and unhurried.
"You're pushing yourself too hard," Ezekiel warned, his tone gentle but firm. "Pacing is important, Aaron. You need to learn how to conserve your Aura for when it really matters."
Aaron took a deep breath, trying to steady his breathing. He knew Ezekiel was right, but his frustration was growing. He was giving it everything he had, and yet he still couldn't land a single solid hit.
In a final burst of determination, Aaron charged forward again, his Aura flaring even brighter. He darted behind Ezekiel, aiming a punch at his back, but the old man spun around with surprising speed, catching Aaron's fist in his palm. For a brief moment, their Auras clashed—Aaron's intense and fiery, Ezekiel's calm and controlled.
Ezekiel's grip tightened, and Aaron could feel the immense power just beneath the surface, like a deep ocean current. And then, with a gentle push, Ezekiel sent Aaron skidding back across the clearing, his feet barely managing to keep him upright.
Panting heavily, Aaron finally relented, dropping into a crouch as he tried to catch his breath. His Aura flickered and dimmed, the flame around him shrinking as his energy drained away.
Ezekiel walked over to him, his own Aura still barely visible, though there was a glint of approval in his eyes. "You've come a long way, Aaron. But remember, power isn't just about how hard you can hit. It's about control, patience, and understanding your opponent."
Aaron nodded, still trying to recover. "I'll remember that, Ezekiel. I'll get better."
The old man smiled, placing a hand on Aaron's shoulder. "I know you will. You've got a lot of potential, Aaron. Just don't rush it. Take your time, and you'll surpass even me one day."
Aaron looked up, a small smile on his face. He respected Ezekiel more than anyone, and his words meant the world to him. "Thanks, Ezekiel."
They stood in the clearing for a few moments longer, letting the calm of the evening settle around them. Finally, Ezekiel patted Aaron on the back. "Go on home, now. Your mother will be wondering where you are."
Aaron nodded and turned to leave, but before he could go, Ezekiel called out to him again. "And remember, Aaron—stay close to your family. They're what's most important."
Aaron paused, the weight of Ezekiel's words sinking in. He nodded again, more solemnly this time, before making his way back up the hill toward his home.
As he walked, the familiar path felt different somehow, as if a shadow had passed over it. The air was cool and crisp, and in the distance, Aaron could see the faint lights of their home shining like a beacon. His pace quickened, eager to return to his family, to the warmth and safety of their little house.
But just as he reached the crest of the hill, a sound like thunder roared through the night. Aaron's heart stopped as he saw a massive explosion rip through the side of their home, the force of it shaking the ground beneath his feet. The flames that followed were dark, twisted—a mix of black and deep crimson, unlike anything Aaron had ever seen.
For a moment, he stood frozen, his mind struggling to comprehend what had just happened. And then, all at once, the horror hit him. Nicholas. His mother. They were inside.
"No!" Aaron screamed, the sound tearing from his throat as he sprinted toward the burning house. But even as he ran, he could feel the oppressive weight of the Aura surrounding the flames—a hollow, heavy presence that filled him with a dread so deep it threatened to swallow him whole.
The closer he got, the more the despair set in. The house, their home, was engulfed in flames, the black and crimson Aura swirling like a vortex of death and destruction. And in that moment, Aaron knew—whatever had caused this, whatever was inside that house—it was something far beyond anything he had ever faced.
The warmth of the evening had turned to ash, and as Aaron reached the burning wreckage, his heart shattered. The world he knew was gone, consumed by the flames, and all that was left was the hollow, suffocating weight of despair.
Aaron's heart pounded in his chest as he stumbled toward the remains of their home, the flames licking at the night sky, casting an eerie glow across the landscape. The once peaceful hilltop was now a scene of devastation, the air thick with smoke and the acrid scent of burning wood and flesh.
As he neared the house, Aaron's eyes widened in horror. There, standing amidst the rubble, was a creature that defied reason. It was humanoid in shape but grotesque in form, its body twisted and monstrous. Two large, curved horns jutted from its forehead, and its skin was mottled with dark, blood-red patches that seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy. Its eyes were black voids, reflecting nothing but the chaos around it. Long, sharp talons extended from its fingers, and its mouth was twisted into a hideous grin, revealing rows of jagged teeth.
The creature's Aura was a swirling mass of black and deep crimson, exuding a foul, oppressive energy that made Aaron's stomach churn. It was an Aura unlike anything he had ever felt before—dark, corrupted, and filled with a twisted glee that made the air around it heavy with dread.
The creature was laughing, a high-pitched, manic giggle that sent shivers down Aaron's spine. It stood over a small figure—Nicholas—who was encased in a brilliant red Aura shield. The shield was incredibly strong, pulsating with a warmth that Aaron recognized instantly: it was his mother's Aura, her final act of protection for her youngest son.
The creature struck the shield again and again, its talons crashing against the barrier with a force that shook the ground. But no matter how hard it hit, the shield held, its light unwavering. The creature's laughter grew louder, more frenzied, as it snarled through its twisted grin, "I'm here for the Honored One. Are you the Honored One?"
It repeated the phrase over and over, its voice dripping with malice and delight. Each time it spoke, it drove its claws into the shield, trying to break through. Aaron felt a wave of terror wash over him, but he knew he had to do something. He couldn't let this monster reach Nicholas.
Gathering every ounce of courage he had, Aaron released his Aura, letting it flare up around him. His blue Aura, though strong for his age, felt pitifully small compared to the darkness emanating from the creature. Still, he squared his shoulders, preparing to charge forward, when a sudden blur of motion caught his eye.
In an instant, Ezekiel appeared, his movements swift and controlled. His katana gleamed in the firelight, encased in his blue Aura. Without hesitation, Ezekiel slashed at the creature, releasing a wave of energy that crashed into it, sending the monster sprawling backward. The creature's laughter was cut short, replaced by a hiss of anger as it struggled to regain its footing.
Ezekiel didn't give it a chance to recover. He moved with the fluidity of a master, each strike of his katana precise and deadly. The blue Aura around his blade extended outward, creating arcs of energy that sliced through the air, forcing the creature back with each attack.
"Stay away from him!" Ezekiel commanded, his voice ringing with authority as he positioned himself between Nicholas and the creature.
The creature snarled, its grotesque smile fading as it sized up its new opponent. For a moment, it seemed to consider its options, its black eyes narrowing as it studied Ezekiel. But then, with a furious growl, it lunged forward, talons outstretched.
Ezekiel met the attack head-on, his katana flashing as it deflected the creature's claws. The force of their clash sent shockwaves through the air, but Ezekiel held his ground, his blue Aura burning bright against the creature's darkness.
Aaron watched in awe and terror, his heart racing as the two fought. He had never seen anyone move like Ezekiel—every motion was perfect, every strike deliberate. But even as Ezekiel drove the creature back, Aaron could see the toll it was taking. The creature was relentless, its Aura filled with a twisted energy that seemed to feed off the chaos around it.
Finally, with a powerful slash, Ezekiel sent the creature flying backward, crashing into the ground with a thud. The creature hissed in pain, but it was clear that it was far from defeated. Ezekiel turned to Nicholas, who was still encased in the Aura shield, and with a swift motion, he dispelled the barrier, scooping the boy into his arms.
"Nicholas!" Aaron called out, his voice cracking with emotion.
Ezekiel glanced at Aaron, his expression grim. "Take your brother and run, Aaron. Get to the city. Find help."
Aaron hesitated, his eyes flicking between Ezekiel and the creature that was already beginning to stir. "But—"
"Go!" Ezekiel barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. He tossed a small, sleek cell phone to Aaron, who caught it reflexively. "Use this to contact me once you're safe. Now run!"
Aaron nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he ran toward Ezekiel. The old man handed Nicholas over to him, the boy still dazed but alive. Aaron clutched his brother tightly, feeling the warmth of his mother's lingering Aura still faintly around him.
As Aaron turned to flee, he caught a glimpse of something that made his blood run cold. Lying amidst the rubble, partially obscured by the flames, was his mother's body. It was broken, shattered by the force of the explosion, but even in death, her Aura remained—strong, defiant, and burning red, a testament to her love and the lengths she would go to protect her children.
The sight of her lifeless form sent a wave of despair crashing over Aaron, nearly knocking him off his feet. But he couldn't stop now. He had to keep going—for Nicholas, for their mother, and for whatever chance they had left.
With Nicholas in his arms, Aaron ran, the weight of everything that had just happened pressing down on him like a physical force. The last thing he heard before the world went dark was the sound of Ezekiel's katana clashing against the creature's claws, and the haunting, twisted laughter that echoed through the night.
Aaron ran. He ran faster than he ever had in his life, his legs burning with the effort, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. He held Nicholas tightly, the younger boy's limp form pressed against him as he sprinted away from the devastation behind them. The air around Aaron was thick with the remnants of his own Aura, pulsating wildly, out of control. He could feel it, heavy and erratic, like a storm raging within him, feeding off his grief, his fear, his overwhelming sense of loss.
Tears streamed down his face as he ran, his vision blurring with the intensity of his emotions. Images of his mother's broken body, the twisted grin of the creature, and the fierce determination in Ezekiel's eyes played over and over in his mind. The weight of it all threatened to crush him, but he couldn't stop. He had to keep moving, for Nicholas's sake, if not for his own.
Nicholas, still dazed and unresponsive, clung to Aaron without realizing it, his small hands gripping his brother's shirt. His eyes were half-closed, his face pale, as if the world around him was slipping away. Aaron's heart ached at the sight, but there was nothing he could do except run. Run and hope that somehow, they would make it to safety.
The world around him blurred as he sped past Ezekiel's shack, the place that had once been a refuge, now just another landmark in his desperate flight. He didn't dare look back, didn't want to see the destruction that was surely spreading through the village. But even without looking, he could hear it—the crackling of flames, the distant echoes of battle, and the sinister laughter of the creature that had torn his world apart.
It felt like an eternity before Aaron finally reached the edge of the village, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his legs trembling with exhaustion. But he didn't stop. He couldn't. He pushed on, the lights of Vale City faintly visible in the distance, a beacon of hope that seemed so far away.
Every step was a battle against the pain in his muscles, the weight of Nicholas in his arms, and the crushing despair that threatened to pull him under. But he kept going, one foot in front of the other, until the village was far behind him, and the shadows of the city loomed closer.
Finally, when he could run no more, Aaron stumbled into an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city, the lower district known for its rough, urban landscape. The buildings here were crumbling, the streets filled with debris and the echoes of distant sirens. It was a place that reflected the broken state of Aaron's soul—a place where the lost and the desperate came to hide.
He collapsed against the wall, his body giving out beneath him as he slid to the floor. Nicholas was still clutched in his arms, the boy's small form now limp with exhaustion. Aaron's breath came in shallow, painful bursts, his vision darkening at the edges as the last of his strength drained away.
With the last bit of consciousness he had left, Aaron glanced at the cell phone Ezekiel had given him, still clutched tightly in his hand. He knew he should call for help, knew he needed to do something—anything—to protect Nicholas. But the darkness was pulling him under, and he couldn't fight it any longer.
As his eyes fluttered closed, the last thing Aaron saw was the faint glow of the city's lights, so close yet so far away. And then, everything went black.