Reincarnation Chapter 3

(1)
(2)

3- Originality

Three days has gone by since the destruction of West Silvereign City, home to the Falcon Clan. Hundreds of lives perished without a need of explanation, and it was evident that the ongoing war has just begun. With that, the people couldn’t be blamed for absorbing souls of the dead or the sacrificed for their mystical powers; they just wanted to prevent their own souls being devoured by the stronger and greedier ones.

Wyvern City is home to the Gargoyle Clan, and Angelion City is home to the third clan, the Taurus. Yet, the rulers of the clans became more lenient in allowing members of other clans to freely wander around their cities, provided their bases were stood clear of.

Because they had given up accidentally killing their own people just to wipe out the trespassers, it actually caused fifty percent of all deaths which occurred last five years.

***

Wyvern City, such a modernized imagination of what would be a city of cyborgs implanted with souls of the dead. But due to arson attacks by the Taurus Clan, well, the revolutionary project just crumbled like that, and the people eventually gave up. They focused on absorbing wandering souls and improving their own fighting prowess instead, thus Wyvern became more of a “village” compared to the other two sovereign cities.

I leaned against the black concrete wall outside some unknown shop, sipping on a plastic cup of nice old coffee; my free hand whipping out the trusty little phone that I bought three months ago. I pointed it towards a random passerby and the phone eventually made a rather soft beep sound. I looked at the screen.

“72 souls, interesting.” People whose body contained many souls had a very much higher risk of losing bodily control and will soon succumb to the hazardous effects. Well, I couldn’t imagine how could they retain their sanity when I myself, who contained only a mere two souls, nearly destroyed an entire army. I pointed my phone to a masked person, and stared at the screen.

*whoosh* I was this close to being struck on the head by a gigantic metal hammer. Still in bending position, I inserted my phone back into my jeans’ side pocket before firing out a ball of concentrated dark energy right towards the masked attacker. It hit him, but it seemed that he felt no pain. He slammed his huge hammer down onto the road, hard. It caused an earthquake-esque shockwave which I effortlessly dodged, and soon a massive tower of earth rock emerged, piercing through the shop that I leaned on.

Realizing that I was overpowered by some masqueraded freak whose muscles seemingly weighed more than an elephant, I quickly ran down the sidewalk while pushing those humanoid obstacles aside. Well I did get scolded at once or twice, but they all were mauled to death by some twenty-ton hammer anyway.

“Earth, that guy manipulates rock to his desire, oh how frightening.” I was apathetic towards his rather boring powers. I turned my head around, catching a slight glimpse of the raging madman, while charging up my powers and fired three shots of pure darkness directly onto his torso. It did stain his white shirt a little, but it didn’t manage to injure his rock-solid body. He grew mad, really mad. He charged faster, ignoring civilians as he just rammed through them, causing them to fly at least fifteen feet back. He didn’t mind grabbing citizens and throwing them towards me, and my swiftness allowed me to avoid it really easily. It was more like an insult than an attempted attack.

“But really, what is that guy? He didn’t absorb too many souls…” People with a low soul count were usually weaker and deemed useless, as souls lost most of their powers before entering one’s body, unless that particular soul was one of the “original souls”, souls which hadn’t been passed around to more than two people. My two souls were original, which explained why I was able to survive an army assault with just two souls.

I continued firing shots without taking notice of my continuously draining energy, in hope to shoot off his mask and reveal his wretched identity, but my accuracy was far from a skilled marksman. So I just kept running while evading all the random people and objects he threw at me, praying that someone of equal power to him may come and save the day. Oh what was I thinking, his souls were original too, and there were only a handful of people with them.

“Belle Marinette.” I saw her, my best friend for nearly five years. She too, had an original soul, and like me, she only contained two souls. I called out to her but she was too busy staring at the “hot” waiter working in some restaurant, so I just fired a weak shot right towards her. Without leaving any trace, she just disappeared out of sight, and suddenly emerged beside me, slowing down to match my pace.

“Idiot! I know there is some weird fat guy rummaging through the city, but I can outrun him you know.” She presented to me her signature frown look, which was way too cute to take seriously. She sprinted forward even faster, before suddenly disappearing again, and soon she continued running beside me again, the sword she carried behind her back then drenched in blood.

“Ahaha, his body is a little strong I guess, but I did manage to cut him.” I turned around and saw a long, deep cut stretching diagonally from the attacker’s right shoulder to his left hip, and it was bleeding profusely. Ah, how I wish I could have her power and be able to move as fast as light, but really, manipulating darkness was all I needed.

“Damn, you’re strong.” I scratched my head and laughed a little before leaping onto the top of a traffic light, before leaping to the top of a rather short building, Belle followed me. I released a cloud of darkness at the T-junction about ten feet in front of the madman, I thought that with his running momentum, he wouldn’t be able to stop in time and would melt when he touch the dark cloud.

He ran through it without even attempting to stop, which he only done so right after he passed the mist of darkness. He barely suffered any injuries, other than his mask melting into liquid, revealing his face. And it was said that people with only two souls were descendants of one of the three clans.

He had only two souls, just like me and Belle. And I was definite on whom that guy was, but I couldn’t believe it, why would he show himself in plain sight?

“Should we head back to HQ?” Belle smiled and took out her uniquely carved sword before revealing her gargoyle wings, ready to escape from the scene.

“We wouldn’t be the direct descendants of the Gargoyle Clan if we ran away do we?” I combed her hair slightly and gave her a smirk, before focusing my eyes on the leader of the Taurus Clan, Sky Frostwing.

“Oh damn, this is gonna be tough.”

Reincarnation Chapter 2 (9/12/11)

(1)

2- Fear

Reactions of the enemies were mixed, some were in a state of utter shock, and some were expecting it as I hid myself among the shadows of midnight. All the bullets were devoured by the force of darkness, gone forever.

“Where is he?” Such distressing voice he had, he seemed to panic when all hope was drained from his soul. And he did the correct thing, because I instill fear in people. That was what I do.

I just lost my humanity.

I emerged from the center of the group and delivered a vehement punch right to the panicked soldier’s face, using my devastated right fist. Shockwaves of pure darkness were unleashed from the hit, inflicting severe damage onto everyone nearby. And well, the guy I punched died from a heart attack, not due to the initial punch. I frightened him to death, and I was proud of it.

I punched the ground, easily breaking the floor apart, while the resulting shockwave was busy sending numerous soldiers flying uncontrollably backwards, with some falling off the humungous fifty-storey building. I spared no mortals, as the unrelenting soul inside me slowly grasped my sanity, and I couldn’t do anything.

“You won’t get away this time, useless piece of crap!” My instincts allowed me to sense the myriad of war copters behind me, all too ready to annihilate me into oblivion. The previous brawl between me and the army crippled my right arm further, to the point which a single push could dislocate its fragile bones. I grew anxious, but the force inside me did not back down, instead it grew stronger, fiercer, inversely proportional to the injuries I suffered.

“I don’t condone violence, but I’ll not hesitate to do so.” I turned around and fired a dark shockwave towards the forty-or-so helicopters, but it only managed to destroy one. And the outcome wasn’t good. No it wasn’t.

I used up all my remaining energy, as the soul inside me slowly died out. I kneeled downwards using a single knee, with my other leg supporting me. I was going to die.

“Sorry, but I’m the culprit.” An elderly man with long ivory hair landed in front of me, still in squatting position due to the massive falling impact. He was wearing a ragged hoodie made of some low quality cloth, just like a beggar. His face could not be conceived, as it was smothered by his flowing hair. Fresh blood was gushing out of his forearms. No, his entire body was drenched in blood, but the only visible scars were the ones on the aforementioned forearms.

“Catch me, idiots. We control this town.” Just then, the blood from his arms solidified into what would be a blood blade, as he lunged forwards, lacerating the flying vehicles into two or four, before landing back onto the ground.

It all took three seconds, his power was absolute.

He turned towards me, placed his right hand onto the middle of his hoodie, grabbed it and forcefully removed it, before throwing it to some random place. Yeah, he tried too hard to look cool, but I was apathetic.

“You destroyed this city?” I calmly stood up, as the soul inside me slowly recovered.

“Hmm, maybe. You mean, we destroyed this city?” He smirked while crossing his arms.

“I’m Shadow Vegas, and you will pay for your lies. Now die.” I leaped forward as dark energy gathered around my right clenched fist. I wanted to end this.

“Oh really?” He simply raised his left hand up, using his left palm to effectively block the punch that I was going to deliver. He smiled, and I was not amused.

“I’m Slitzh Manseus, one of the founders of the Gargoyle Clan. Don’t you remember who you were?” He located his right fist in front of my abdomen, as it was covered with his own blood.

“You were one of the founders of reincarnation. And you caused all this. Is that amnesia you having there?” He unleashed a burst of blood right from his fist, and it was at point blank range, so it caused me to fly twenty feet backwards before falling back first on the ground. Just three more feet and I would’ve pummeled down the building.

“Oh gee, I’m terribly sorry, Ryzen Hastewind, but I’ve injured the body that you chose. But he is still in one piece, which is a spectacular thing, master.”

“Shut up.” I stood up almost immediately, unwilling to back down from a decent fight. I knew the soul inside me was those of Ryzen Hastewind, founder of one of the strongest of the three clans and one of the four founders of the aforementioned forbidden art, but it didn’t matter, because I was determined to bring this war to a complete halt.

“Your powers allowed you to manipulate your own blood right? I can see that.” I started to calm down as my own soul took over of my body again. He nodded his head while giving out a rather devilish smile.

“Really, I have no interest in forcing you to rejoin our clan, but if things go out of control, you know where to find us. Don’t go near Silvereign anymore, the Falcon Clan people may annihilate you.” He hastily turned around and fired three streams of blood towards what would be a group of men with oversized falcon wings flying towards us. And well, they all died.

“See that? Oh wait, I sense another group.” He turned his head to the right and stared at the hordes of the Falcon Clan army rampaging towards us.

“Stay here Shadow. We don’t want that soul of yours stolen right?” He surrounded me with a barrier made of blood before taking off to eradicate the army, all by himself.

It was a weak army, and its numbers were few. It was over in a matter of seconds.

“Run back to Wyvern City! You’ll be healed by the members of our clan there!” Slitzh shouted before focusing his attention on another batch of army.

He earned my respect.

Reincarnation Chapter 1 (9/12/11)

1- Crisis

It was a time of nightmare, a time where sin and greed impeded the way of achieving salvation, a time where people only strived for revolution and not freedom of rights.

It was a time where people practiced the forbidden arts of reincarnation.

People were murdered for their souls, beasts were “sacrificed” for their souls as well, and by doing that, the souls’ hidden powers were unleashed. It may sound like some cliche fantasy plot, but it was true, back then in the year 2204.

***

The city was in ruins, the people all in despair; the only things left in sight were bloodshed, remorse and tears. It was the most brutal attack delivered by an opposing force ever.

But the people were innocent, they only wanted peaceful lives, and what they faced was a burning inferno raging the busy streets of West Silvereign City. Skyscrapers tumbled over like a falling stack of cards, all too ready to crush anything and everything. Suffering children were trapped between layers of concrete debris; all wailing for fear that they may not see their guardians again.

Blood smothered the once polished streets. The entire stretch of pavement was literally covered with the crimson liquid, and the pungent smell of it worsened the horrendous condition of the survivors. Some of them were wailing in agony, some were praying for salvation, most just stuck close with their loved ones, dead or alive. Sirens of hope rang the ears of the victims, and it got louder. But it soon vanished as the Tower of Tavern collapsed. All hope was lost, and death awaited them.

A lone teenager, that was me, remained unharmed, not even a bruise. I stood above the firmest building, viewing the destroyed remains of the city, the people who just lost the will to live. My heart was without peace, as I knew the war would never end. The ongoing war between three clans of unmatched strength has done only the worst to revolutionize the world, contrary to what their followers said. And it was greed, and only greed which caused this.

I shook my head in disbelief while using the bloodied fingers of my right hand to rid my flowing tears of disappointment. I was flabbergasted.

Since when did I get injured? I felt excruciating pain, and hastily used my left hand to try and cover the wounded finger to prevent excessive blood loss. But I couldn’t handle it and let out a shriek, not because of the pain which I didn’t bother much, but because of the government’s reluctance to spare any victims. That moment, I saw the polluted faces of the city’s corrupted army exactly twenty feet in front of me, one of them wielding a rather long sniper with smoke coming out of the gun barrel.

“You are the only one uninjured in this city. And thus we officially declare you the prime suspect of this calamity. You shall be executed now.” Without hesitation, all the so-called ‘soldiers’ raised their guns ninety degrees upwards, ready to exterminate the only standing one. They were filled with sins, and yet they did not give a damn.

I clenched my left fist in extreme anger, as my right palm cease to function. The bullets were poisonous, which were new at the time. If I didn’t seek treatment soon I will eventually die, and my death will go unnoticed by anyone except the army. The north eastern winds blew without vain, effectively brushing my dark brown hair backwards, revealing my unique indigo-colored eyes to the battle-equipped men, which startled them. I stared at those sinners with utter fury, wanting to kill each and every one of those bastards, but it was too late. The poison has spread through my entire right arm, which caused it to swell up, seemingly about to burst at any rate.

 “Bring it, scums!” I ignored my apparently numbed right shoulder and lifted my still usable left hand upwards, spreading my fingers apart, and placed my palm onto the detritus-filled ground. I’d guess it, they had enough.

“FIRE!!” Just at that moment, a storm of lead was raining down towards my direction. They were fast, accurate, all fired by the best snipers alive. But for me, they were nothing but mere rats hunting for innocent cheese.

The soul in me has reigned over my sanity.

My December

Sometimes I wished I could change my past a little, implanting a paradigm shift in my parent's mind to make them less overprotective. They cared for me a little too much, which may be a good thing for some of you. Not for me.

I didn't recognize friends, not even as a meager piece of importance. Well, that time, parents were all I needed. I loved them way too much that I was the happiest person in the world just being with them. They cared for me too much.

Most people started actively befriending people at the age of 7, when they start their first year of primary education. And thus, they started to embrace the real world where parents doesn't mean everything.

I only started realizing the importance of friends at 16. And it's only when I start to take initiative to make new friends, forge new relationships. It's too late in my opinion, really. I missed out 9 years. Damn.

And the answer which some people give? "It's not that hard." Well for you, it's easy as you're different from me. I didn't even attempt to socialize till this year, most of the times my classmates took the initiative to befriend me, and not vice versa. I didn't know, and probably will take a long time to learn how to properly socialize.

There was a guy who I knew since the first year in primary school, and even without chatting much, I called him my "best friend". I did not how to differentiate between true friends and idiots like him.

He dragged me into a little issue, told me not to tell anyone about it and a few weeks later framed me for being the sole criminal of that issue, with himself getting away scot-free. From my guess, he did it just to amuse himself, but obviously, that caused a deep scar in me, while he got all the fame.

And the effects of not being able to differentiate has taken a toll on me. I still trusted him as a friend, and I still kept the idea of him being "the only friend I'll ever need".

How I wish I could punch myself until I bleed to death. Maybe that will make me feel better about how sophomoric I was last time. My childhood was like total bullshit pulled out from the smelliest junkyard in the universe.

And now, I just wish I would be able to socialize more, and not be the one who just lie there and wait for people to forge bonds with me. I wish that I could mean something to my friends, even if it is a little, at least I can know that people appreciate my existence.

I feel lonely, really. Sometimes I really feel like having a real sibling by my side, so that I wouldn't be overprotected by my parents, so that I would learn how to be independent.

So that I would be more friendly.

"And I'd give it all away, just to have somewhere to go to. Give it all away, to have someone to come home to." - My December, Linkin Park

I'm a renegade.

TODAY. Yes today, is the second last day of my form four life. Really, things happened I guess, too many at once.

I'm lost.

Wait, what happened? What did I just do this year? What did I gain this year? What did I lost this year? There are literally myriads of questions lacerating my mind, anxiously waiting for myself to answer them.

And I couldn't, well for now.

I've experienced life in a whole new environment, went through heaps of adventures, various ups and downs, challenges, and a shifted mindset. All in eleven months.

I need a rest.

As my life is spent being the only child of a very protective family, I took much longer to grow up mentally, and my mindset was always of a child; throwing tantrums at random situations, not understanding various situations, and was a shy, cowardly boy. I didn't understand what are friends, and didn't appreciate them. I was just a video game nerd, and maybe a study nerd. I didn't understand life.

Even when they were right in front of me, my friends, I did not see or hear them as true friends, I did not understand them, I thought being alone was enough to sustain life.

2011.

It took me five months to realize that at least one true friend is required to be there for me, and eleven months for me to realize that all of them were, and still are always there for me. Which simply means that I just began to understand who and what friends are for, and learned to appreciate them.

EPC, the group that I'm part of, the group which consists of people from different background, with varying personalities, attitudes, and interests. They changed my life drastically, maturing my sophomoric mentality, and made me realize who I truly am.

But I executed a fatal mistake. I thought EPC was my life, and that I did not need anyone else.

I played the role of a renegade, a rebel, in my other group of friends, the group which was with me for two years and accepted me for who I am.

And I regretted.

"If ever I get there, it won't be fast enough. I'm a renegade, I always was." Renegade - Paramore

Chained II

There was once a chain null of pain,
and a chain full of pain,
both were not right,
both were not wrong,
both were chained to light,
both were chained for long.

There was once a rope of innocence,
full of diligence;
importance,
to one of the chains.
Thus it required help from the other chain,
to reduce the pain,
and gain
the other chain.

But both chains were blur,
which caused them to slur,
but one slurred more than the other,
when it is mentioned her,
and the chains were weak,
until they reached the peak.
Such tiny little tweaks.

At last, one was helpful,
in all the wrong ways;
and one was helpful,
in all the wrong ways.
The bonds were seperated,
as the helps resonated,
somehow fated.

Both needed support,
or they will resort
to distort.

And when such miserable happening occured,
both chains lost their land,
and failed to understand.
One was rubbed in mud,
like a withered rose bud.
One was rubbed in blood,
like a drastic flash flood.

The rope clung tighter onto a chain,
loosening the grip on the other chain.
But this time it chose the tighter chain,
and was unsure of the other chain.

And the rope was chained, forever.

Chained I

There was once a chain null of pain,
and a chain full of pain,
one prefer to face the rain,
embrace lightnings,
engage fighting
without running;
one prefer to avoid the blame,
avoid defame,
changing the same.

Both are without wrongs,
just like songs,
free to express,
depress.
They face duress
by people of wrongs,
without being wrong.
But the chains eventually bond
a relationship of fond.
And life continues for long.

But the chains are tightened,
then the chains are frightened,
and the chains are lightened,
without time to adapt.

The chains are on fire,
the chains are sure dire
for sly errs,
when the heat grew stronger,
wronger,
and lasted longer,
when a rope was connected,
and its soul collected.

Both are without sins,
just the urge to win,
both flames equally wild,
takes long to turn mild.

But both chose silence.

And when a flame smothers the other,
it shall enrage either,
the rope will choose neither,
but it clung onto both chains,
which are too fragile,
and it is not agile
to avoid the blaze,
and suffocated in the haze,
when it is without wrong.

The rope clung tighter onto a chain,
loosening the grip on the other chain,
but prefer the other chain,
over the chain it clung tighter.
But its life was in the grip
of the tighter chain,
just one trip,
and it will burn.

And the rope burned.