Sitting at the end of a somber line of blackened suits, a young boy's eyes shimmer with tears, desperately fighting to break free from the waterline. In front of him, a delicate arrangement of blue, white, and yellow blossoms stands as a fragile tribute, framing a picture of a radiant young couple. His parents' smiles now seem frozen in a silent farewell.
This young couple was the boy's entire world, their lives snuffed out in a flash of violence and valor.
They died tragically, doing all they could to carve out a future for him and his sister. Their profession was a perilous dance with death. His father and mother were among the highest ranked fighters in BRAWL, the gladiatorial heartbeat of EQUINOX, where blood and glory intertwine.
BRAWL isn't just a battle, it's a brutal ballet performed on the edge of oblivion. It's the only realm on Earth where the rich, known as "Highers," and the impoverished, dubbed "Lowers," share the same bloodstained stage. Every day, hundreds of fierce clashes ignite, and millions of credits surge through the wager system, fueling dreams and despair alike.
In BRAWL, fortunes are made and lost in the blink of an eye. The powerful can descend from riches to ruin, and the downtrodden can claw their way up or tumble down into the abyss. Yet, beneath the roaring crowds and flashing lights, all fighters face the same grim fate: to fall lifeless, their bodies abandoned in the silence of the stage.
The boy Law, and his older sister Ruby's parents had perished, or rather, been murdered, in a brutal match against two merciless fighters in the arena.
For Law, that tragedy planted a seed of hatred deep within his young heart, a seed that grew in the shadows of grief and fury. The sport that claimed his parents' lives was a venom he could no longer bear to swallow.
As he clutched a handful of flowers, tears threatening to spill, a firm hand gripped his shoulder and gently pulled him upright. His body was turned slowly, almost reverently. Turning around, he saw a tall, imposing figure, his parents coach, Mr. Malrose. The man stood behind him like a sentinel, his short brown hair slicked back, eyes lined with the weight of countless battles.
A deep frown etched itself onto Law's face, his grief and rage simmering beneath the surface. Then Mr. Malrose spoke, his voice unexpectedly tender—a rare softness in a world built on brutality:
"Law, it's been quite a while. You've grown so much since I last saw you. I'm sorry it's under these circumstances."
The boy's frown deepened, and his sadness morphed into a blazing anger. Being young and overwhelmed, he lost control, his voice cracking with the raw edge of betrayal and grief.
"You're sorry? I hate you! How dare you even come here! They didn't want to fight. Mom told me herself, but you pushed them into it, and now look!" He shouted, his voice cracking like shattered glass, echoing through the silent crowd. "Get the hell out of here! Go!"
A hush fell over the small crowd gathered around the makeshift funeral, their eyes flickering with uncertainty and unease. The weight of grief and anger hung thick in the air.
Mr. Malrose's expression softened, and he responded in a gentle tone, layered with empathy—a tone that seemed almost out of place in this brutal world:
"Law, I understand how you feel. Your anger is justified. I am truly sorry. If there's anything you or your sister need, please, don't hesitate to reach out." He extended his hand, revealing a weathered business card.
Just as Law was about to start yelling at the man again, a new voice cut through the tense atmosphere, soft yet unwavering.
"Thank you, Mr. Malrose, but we won't be needing that, nor anything from you, ever again."
Law turned sharply, recognizing the voice as his sister Ruby's. She stepped forward, her young face set with resolve. With quiet defiance, she snatched the card from Mr. Malrose's hand.
"I hope we won't be seeing you again. Please leave," Ruby said, her voice steady despite the tears threatening to surface.
The man looked at her, a flicker of regret crossing his features, and then nodded. "I understand." Without another word, he turned and walked away into the rain-drenched dusk.
The funeral wrapped up in a quiet procession of grief, loss, and unanswered questions. Law, however, kept silent about why Ruby took the card, sensing it was a small act of rebellion, perhaps a fragile thread of hope. Considering their bleak circumstances, it seemed like the only thing left to hold onto. Now, they faced a future uncharted and uncertain.
Ruby, only sixteen, would shoulder the role of provider, her youthful shoulders burdened with the weight of survival. Law, only twelve, knew he was far from ready to stand on his own. His fledgling strength was still fragile beneath the storm.
Unbeknownst to Law, before long, he would find himself in the same deadly arena, on familiar ground, a place where mountains of hardship awaited. To forge a new life for Ruby and himself, he would have to summon strength from depths he never knew he possessed, fighting through the rain of despair to find the dawn of hope.