Ash made his way to the small studio apartment he rented out. He was seventeen, but, due to his circumstances, he was able to rent the place legally after obtaining legal counsel to be considered an adult, to avoid being put in the system.
The rent was ridiculous, even for a small room, but it was all he could afford with the money his parents left over, after the reports on his brother Isaac ruined the military benefits he could have had. Ash went upstairs to rest. The room was barely enough; the kitchen had a small space for a fridge, a microwave, and a single hot plate warmer next to the sink. The living room was big enough for a futon couch to fit; it had a compartment for a bed to be pulled out. And the bathroom is just enough to fit him in it, albeit a little compact.
Ash threw his bag against the wall; he didn't care if it got messed up, since it was practically ruined anyway. He turned the TV on for background noise to keep his mind off the day. His focus wasn't even on the program playing on the TV, but rather on his phone.
Struggling to scroll through his photos and videos on his screen, which had multiple cracks, he went through all the photos of his family.
His parents looked alive and happy, as they had before, when he was just a kid. They died when he was still a child; the photos his brother gave him were so he would remember them.
He scrolled until he reached the video of his brother's wedding day. That was the happiest day of Ash's life; he was nine years old when his brother Isaac married his girlfriend. Isaac was cutting the cake in the video and feeding a piece to his beloved girl.
"Ash, come over and have some." The bride called over, inviting the young Ash to have a bit of the cake.
Ash watched his young self waddle over to the beautiful bride, who gave him a small piece to nibble on. Isaac picked up his baby brother, kissing him on his chubby cheeks as he held Ash, as if he were his own son, to show off.
"Look how adorable he is, babe. My real best man here to see me happy before I ship off."
Ash couldn't hold back his tears. He wiped his face off before turning the phone off. Since he left early from school, he decided not to go back, wanting to take a mental health day for himself.
He took his shirt off and put on some gym shorts. Even with the living being small, he still had room to do some basic calisthenics. He never slacked off once; he did his routine to keep himself in shape. It was ingrained at this point to not miss a day, both for training and to help keep negative thoughts swirling in his head.
He mostly thought that doing this would, in theory, increase his current level. Level increases didn't happen easily without proper training with the military or an ascendance stone. On very rare occasions, one could level up through hard work, with little result.
Ash did this every day: coming home, looking at his phone, taking the train, or doing schoolwork.
Ever since the Kraegan came, he has never had a normal life. Fifty years after they emerged, no one knew peace.
They were monsters, demons, names humans had called over the years. All humanity knew was that they came from Hell, even in Hell, they had taboo rules, and the Kraegan broke them. Punished for their actions, they were fitted with collars around their necks. From the information a captive Kraegan gave in the early years, the collars could never be removed unless they ingested a thousand souls, thus regaining their freedom and transcending into higher evolution.
This turned out to be false, much to their dismay. They could evolve but never be free. If the collars were destroyed, they would permanently die; there would be no Hell, Heaven, or Purgatory; they would cease to exist completely.
It took humanity ten years to find the stones, books, and scrolls to gain their powers. With all the power, though, the balance of war never changed; both sides remained at a standstill, going back and forth.
Ash wanted that to change; he wanted to help change it as his brother tried.
He stopped his training midway, he stared up at the ceiling just thinking, so many thoughts in his head racing. Ash needed to do something else to help keep his mind clear, so he headed downstairs to clean the bike from the stains it had endured.
The bike was his brother's prized possession; it was a Harley-Dyna, customized by Isaac and his wife. Isaac bought the bike when he was in high school, and it took him many years and three jobs to save up for it. His wife at the time was studying mechanical engineering, wanting to make custom cars and other projects; she was odd in her family, but Isaac loved her unconditionally. She worked hard with him, fixing up the Harley, even making a custom gas tank with a carved stencil of flames and a goat skull.
Ash scrubbed hard to rid the seat and tank of the coffee stains, finally. Luckily, the scuffing on the frame was easily removed, leaving no permanent damage. It took close to nightfall for the back to be clean again, the pride Ash felt fixing it brimmed bright. He lost his brother and later his sister-in-law, too, from a Kraegan attack. They raised him after his parents' death. The bike was all he had left of them; it was practically a part of him.