The sight was breathtaking. The violent flashes of lightning, crackling and colliding, conveyed a palpable sense of impending doom to the onlookers. Even Lucius, despite possessing the system of the King of the Dead, felt a slight pressure emanating from the relentless red lightning bolts. "Now begin. You mentioned a dream of procuring it, didn't you?" General Nefion abruptly requested, clearing a path towards the ferocious display of elemental force. "Damn, they're relentless," grumbled Lucius, noting the weapons aimed unwaveringly at his head, primed to retaliate at any hint of treachery. [The seedling of the Red Lightning System detected. Ten more years needed for it to mature.] "This waiting time is indeed excessive," Lucius muttered, reflecting on the validity of the information from his previous life. He contemplated the Red Lightning System that was destined to create a hero — the very system that had been forcibly snatched from that hero by the apocalyptic beast. Under th
"Your every action betrays your uniqueness," Lucius declared, staring at the stern general who appeared to be channeling his inner power. This was the same man who had once plunged, fearlessly, from the precipice of a deep mine. "And yet, you remain silent on my proposition," Lucius reminded. "Your offer to join the military? Regrettably, I have no such inclinations." "Do you not fear the life of a fugitive then?" "If I harbored such fear, I would never have defied expectations to begin with," Lucius retorted, his characteristic grin stretching across his face. "A shame. You possess the raw potential of a high-ranking military officer," the middle-aged man sighed, his fist tightening once more. Like an aircraft preparing for takeoff, the air around him hummed with potent energy. "Booommm!" He became a blur, moving so swiftly that Lucius could barely track his movement. Running purely on instinct, Lucius tilted his head, narrowly avoiding a blast of energy reminiscent of a cannon
"What's that noise?" Conrad, a man with golden hair, exclaimed in surprise. A disturbing vibration coursed through the ground beneath him, too strong to be ignored. "Could it be General Nefion?" he wondered aloud. With no time to spare, he slammed the door behind him and dashed out of the small room located at the mine shaft entrance. "Mr. Conrad, is something amiss?" a guard called out, visibly startled by Conrad's haste. "Nothing to worry about," Conrad replied over his shoulder, his words barely audible as he bolted away. Conrad was a military general responsible for overseeing the mine and all its personnel. More importantly, he was aware of the mysterious red lightning deep within the mine, a phenomenon that had already claimed several lives of those daring enough to approach it. "I have a bad feeling about this," he thought, navigating the mine with the agility of a squirrel. His fear confirmed when he arrived at the bottom to find the red lightning missing, bodies strewn ac
In an otherwise technologically advanced civilization, certain pockets remain somewhat untouched by progress. An excellent example is a small village nestled on the city's outskirts. In spite of the nation's technological prowess, the adults here appear to live in a bygone era. The village seldom experiences the hum of motor vehicles; the residents are content with their simple means of transportation: walking or cycling to their fields. Their lives harmonize with nature, creating a serene atmosphere that blankets the village. A modest market sits in the heart of the village, bustling with vendors who peddle goods bought from the city or sell their agricultural produce. "Vintage paintings for sale!" a man with a bushy mustache booms, his voice drawing villagers like a magnet. Thirsty for some entertainment, the villagers flock around the mustachioed man showcasing his artwork. "These paintings depict ancient kings, treasured artifacts that carry a hefty price tag," he announces, ea
His breaths came out in rapid gasps as he fled from the armed men chasing him. His chest heaved with the weight of his exhaustion, but he couldn't afford to slow down. "Hold your fire. We can't risk damaging the painting," commanded one man, seemingly the leader of the group. He felt a pang of relief. The painting wrapped in a white cloth that he was clutching became his shield. "Handy," he muttered. "Hand it over!" A voice demanded from behind him. He yelled back defiantly, "Not a chance!" His refusal seemed to rankle the soldiers, but their leader's order had tied their hands. They couldn't risk damaging the artwork. "We'll pay you for it," offered a soldier. "Do I look like a fool to you?" He spat, continuing his desperate dash. Suddenly, he tripped on a tree root, tumbling forward, the painting slipping from his grasp. "Open fire!" The command was issued instantly, followed by a burst of gunfire. The runner's body jerked as it was pierced by a hail of bullets, tearing his
Lucius, the young man, halted just shy of treading on a decaying corpse. Around him were bodies, their skin turned a sickly black and bloated from decay. Even maggots had started to make an appearance. "What kind of battle happened here?" Lucius mused aloud. Kneeling down, he studied one of the corpses closely. The face, frozen in an open-mouthed expression of horror, bore a small, blackened hole that looked suspiciously like a bullet wound. "Could they have been shot?" Lucius pondered. The sight before him was starkly different from the fallen soldiers of the Hedron kingdom he had seen in his previous life. With a dismissive "Thud," he kicked the corpse's head aside, looking for something underneath. "Nothing here," he grumbled, disappointment in his tone. His gaze flitted around the area, quickly spotting a few items of interest: a marble-like object, a card stuck in the ground, and an object resembling a painting. "These items... They could be what I've been looking for," Luci
Lucius stared in disbelief at the sight unfolding before him, a stark contrast to anything he'd ever seen. He had lived two lifetimes but had never come across a world as green and vibrant as this one. There was no pollution, none of the black, cloying factory smoke he was used to seeing every day. "Where am I?" He murmured, gazing at the unspoiled landscape stretching out before him. It was serene and beautiful, enticing him to become a part of it. He reached out to touch a leaf, dew still clinging to it, indicating the early morning hour. "This is real," he muttered, trying to reconcile this new world with his past experiences. A sound caught his attention, and he quickly ascended a nearby tree, settling on a branch to investigate its source. He spotted a young boy, around five years old, playfully pointing at a grasshopper jumping from one leaf to another. The child was accompanied by a woman, presumably his mother, holding an infant. Lucius watched as the small family interacte
City of splendor and power, homes of those closest to the king were notably grand, but one stood out among them all. This mansion, constructed from the finest wood, was adorned with natural stones and statues glistening with a golden sheen, an ostentatious display of wealth. "Why is the slave trader so tardy?" the owner, a man of considerable girth, grumbled. He tapped his belly impatiently, as if this action could hasten the arrival of his expected goods. "Sir, I have received word that your goods have entered the city," informed an older man, whispering to his superior as he held a note retrieved from a pigeon's leg. "Is a new trader arriving?" the fat man asked, his eyes gleaming with a childlike anticipation of a long-awaited toy. "Yes, sir." "Eland, prepare my money bag. We are heading straight to the sales location," he commanded. Eland, a weathered servant, nodded obediently and scurried off to fulfill the order. ** "This place is fascinating," Lucius mused. Having adjust