The night was alive with distant tremors, like the world itself was shivering under an invisible hand. Kurogami Ryumen, just ten years old, crouched in the shadow of a crumbling building, his small hands clutching the edges of the cracked concrete. The sky above was split by flashes of unearthly light, not from stars, but from falling fire and lightning that screamed with unnatural ferocity.
CRASH!
A nearby rooftop collapsed, sending shards of debris scattering across the street. Kurogami's silver eyes flickered in the darkness, reflecting the chaos, and a low growl slipped from his throat—a sound he didn't remember making. His pulse was already a rapid drum in his ears.
"Stay quiet. Don't—" he whispered to himself, though he wasn't sure if he meant the wind, the monsters, or himself.
From the distance, a deep, resonant roar rolled across the city. It wasn't human, not animal. The sound carried the weight of mountains shifting, the subtle knowledge that everything fragile in its path was about to be crushed.
RRRRRAAAAGGGHHHH!
The Devourer emerged through the ruins, a silhouette impossibly massive for the world it stood in. Its limbs twisted in angles that should have broken bone and tendon, yet it moved with terrifying fluidity. A ripple of fire ran across its skin, a heat that warped the air and melted asphalt.
Kurogami's breath caught. He was small. Too small. Too fragile. And yet… he could feel it. That strange, thrumming energy inside him.
He rose slowly, silver hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead. His fingers tingled, alive with something ancient, something raw.
ZZZZZZT!
Lightning danced along his fingertips, illuminating the fear and resolve etched onto his young face. The Devourer turned, sensing him—not as a threat, not yet, but as a disturbance in the rhythm of destruction.
Kurogami's chest tightened. He didn't fully understand why he could do what he did, only that he had to. If he didn't move… the city, the people, his mother… everyone would die.
He leapt, and the world seemed to bend around him.
WHOOSH!
He landed atop a fallen streetlight, crouching, calculating. The Devourer advanced, its steps tearing through cars like they were paper. Smoke and sparks rose from its path, a cacophony of destruction.
THOOM! THOOM!
Kurogami focused, channeling that strange energy that hummed beneath his skin. His hands glowed faintly with silver light. He clenched his fists, feeling the air shift, sensing the balance of power.
A smaller creature scuttled from the shadows—a Class D Swarm Devourer. It lunged at him with claws spread wide.
SCRRREEEEEK!
Kurogami barely flinched. His reflexes were impossible for his age, but natural. He ducked under its strike, grabbing a fallen pipe. With a swing that was both precise and impossibly strong, he smashed it into the creature.
KRAK!
The body crumpled, bones cracking in a way that shouldn't have been possible for a child. Kurogami barely noticed. His attention snapped to the larger Devourer, whose gaze now burned directly at him.
He felt fear. Pure, unfiltered. But he also felt… purpose.
He surged forward, running across ruined streets at a speed that blurred his form. Cars toppled in his wake, windows shattered, concrete cracked. The Devourer's roar followed him, echoing like thunder in a canyon.
BOOOOM! BOOOOM!
The ground shook under his feet. Kurogami reached the edge of a collapsed building. He paused. The Devourer's massive claw slammed where he had been standing moments before.
SMASH!
Dust and smoke swallowed the ruins. Kurogami's chest heaved, adrenaline coursing through him, but his mind was unnaturally calm. He knew what he had to do.
He raised his arms. The elemental energy inside him flared, responding to his will. Silver lightning danced across his body, coiling like serpents around his limbs. The Devourer hesitated. It could feel it too, that surge of raw, unnatural power.
Kurogami's young voice rang out, small but unyielding:
"Stay back!"
ZZZZZZZZZSHHH!
A bolt of concentrated lightning shot from his fingertips, striking the Devourer in its chest. It staggered, a sound like grinding mountains escaping its throat. He pressed on, each strike precise, each movement guided by instinct he didn't yet understand.
The Devourer roared again, now in pain. Not fear—pain. And Kurogami realized, with a strange, cold understanding, that he had the power to hurt something that could flatten cities.
CRRRRRAAAACK!
The building behind the creature collapsed, a domino effect that sent rubble cascading, but the Devourer did not falter. It turned, claws reaching, and Kurogami rolled, narrowly avoiding the attack.
THWACK!
A shattered lamppost flew past, embedding itself into the ground where he had been.
Kurogami's heart pounded in rhythm with the chaos. He could feel the fear in the air—the screaming, the chaos, the helplessness—but he didn't falter. He was a shield. He had to be.
He leapt again, higher this time, and slammed both hands into the Devourer's chest. Energy exploded outward.
KRA-KOOM!
The ground quaked. Windows shattered in a fifty-meter radius. The Devourer let out a sound that was neither scream nor roar—it was pure frustration.
Kurogami's knees hit the ground, silver hair falling into his eyes. He looked up at the monster, feeling the full weight of what he had just done. It was wounded, retreating. Not defeated. Just… checked.
A strange, hollow silence fell over the street. Smoke and dust mingled with the sharp tang of ozone.
Kurogami's small body shook. He had won… for now.
He heard a faint cry, muffled, from somewhere in the rubble. His mother. His father. Someone trapped.
He ran, faster than he thought possible, diving into the collapsing city. His hands glowed, fingers crackling with silver sparks. He moved like a ghost, like a god, like a child who had inherited the world's fury.
And in that moment, he understood two things:
1. He was not like the other humans. Not even close.
2. The world would never forgive him for it. By dawn, the city was unrecognizable. Fires burned unchecked. Cries of survivors echoed across the hollow streets. Kurogami stood atop the remnants of what had once been his neighborhood, silver hair shining in the early light. His eyes, stormy and unreadable, scanned the horizon.
He was alone. Not because he chose it. But because no one could ever truly understand him.
And somewhere, in the deep recesses of his young mind, a promise formed—a vow that he would protect the world, even if it meant sacrificing his own humanity.
ZZZZZZSHHHH!
Lightning arced from the sky to the earth, and Kurogami lifted his gaze to it, ready for the next nightmare.
The Fall had begun.