Power.
One word, yet somehow the reason humans turned into greedy little bastards.
We define it… and then we let it define us.
From history books to whispered rumors of war, we clawed our way to the top of Earth's food chain as its apex predators
(aside from dragons).
Some people like to say, With great power comes great responsibility.
Yeah. Most of them don't last long.
Humans are selfish. Opportunistic. Power-hungry.
Most will do anything to come out on top, no matter who they step on.
Well… not everyone.
But enough.
There are always people who want everything for themselves, leaving the rest of us miserable. And the worst part? They do it either in secret… or right in front of everyone's faces.
And what can we do about it?
…Just our damn best.
And sometimes, absolutely nothing at all.
Welcome to a world of magic and swords
in a modern, cruel world.
Martha sat at her favorite rocking chair, her hands wrapped around a warm mug she hadn't even sipped from. She watched Ren pacing near the window, Synera asleep in his arms, and for a long moment… she said nothing.
Then, quietly far more quietly than Ren had ever heard she spoke.
"Ren… sit down. Please."
He froze.
The please wasn't normal.
He sat.
Martha exhaled, staring at the wall like she was trying to punch a hole through it with her eyes.
"My brother and his wife are dead," she said flatly. Not coldly just like the words tasted poisonous. "Another 'dimension accident,' they said. 'Nothing we can do,' they said."
Her jaw clenched so hard the muscle twitched.
"The moment I saw it on the news, I almost killed someone. Some intern reading the report like it was weather talk. Like it wasn't my family."
Ren stiffened. Synera stirred against him but didn't wake.
Martha continued, voice cracking only once.
"He was my idiot little brother. The one I grew up protecting. The one I yelled at every damn day when we lived on that… that place I crawled out of. And after I left after I built my own life he followed me here. We lived together for years. Side by side. He was… Ren, he was my last piece of home that didn't come with nightmares."
She rubbed her forehead with both hands, exhausted.
"And his wife… she didn't deserve this either."
Ren swallowed hard.
"If I had gone with them… maybe "
Martha slammed her palm against the table not in anger, but in grief so sharp it needed somewhere to land.
"No. Don't you dare finish that sentence."
Ren flinched.
She leaned forward, eyes fierce but wet.
"This was not your fault. Not Synera's. Not mine. That world, those dimensions… they take and they take. And they don't ask for permission."
Her voice softened, breaking just a little.
"When I told you, you left the house without a word. You didn't even look at me. But I saw you, Ren. Saw your chest tighten like someone squeezed your heart in their fist. Saw you fighting the urge to scream or break something. You're a strong kid… but you shouldn't have to be. Not like this."
She glanced at Synera, then at Ren again eyes tired, but full of painful, stubborn tenderness.
"You and your sister deserved parents who watched you grow up. Who helped you move into college, who yelled at you for borrowing the car too much, who bragged about you at terrible dinner parties. You deserved love that stayed."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Poor kids… life never even gave you a chance to know what that feels like."
Ren didn't speak.
Couldn't.
Martha finally reached out and rested a rough, warm hand on his shoulder.
"But listen to me. I'm here. I'm not your mother, but I'm not leaving you two to choke on this alone. You hear me?"
Ren nodded slowly, tears stinging at the back of his eyes.
"And Ren…" She squeezed his shoulder. "You don't have to be strong all the time. Not for me. Not for her. Not for anyone. It's okay to hurt."
She paused, voice trembling once more.
"I hurt too."
Ren's mind drifted out of the kitchen, out of Martha's reach, out of the house entirely.
The moment her words quieted, the weight inside him grew louder.
And suddenly…
He was no longer in the room