It was finally the day.
Killian and Deandre had visited the Abbot the entire morning to apologize for injuring him yesterday in training. They went so often that he finally got sick of them and told the doctor not to let them in his room anymore.
Killian sat and thought to himself before heading to the training grounds, He was confident, but if the Abbot was right, this wouldn't be easy.
When he got to the training grounds, his friends and Liwei were there waiting for him. They were on the platform, so he walked up and greeted them. They tried to comfort him but could only manage pats on the back and words like "you got this bro." He knew it was difficult for them to figure out what to say to a potential dead man walking.
After a while the sky dimmed, which was the group's sign to go back to the tent. Killian stayed as the dark clouds rolled in and the heavy rain poured onto him. He thought about leaving, but something told him to stay, so he just sat anchored in place, staring up at the sky. For some reason he felt like he couldn't take his eyes off it. Lightning cracked across the sky, flashing for seconds before vanishing. It started to happen in great volume, but he remained unfazed, and then he was struck, and everything went black.
When Killian woke up, he was in the field from the second day of training. It was different from before, more sad and dark. The sun no longer shone down on him, instead it was covered by dark clouds that stretched for miles. The grass was dying, and the tree was decaying, and had rotten fruit hanging from it.
Then the ground began to split. Creatures started crawling out-dozens, then hundreds, then an endless swarm. They looked human, but their minds were gone. Their flesh wasn't rotted like zombies, yet their movements were just as vacant, and just as relentless.
Killian lashed out with his electric whips to keep them at a distance, sparks carving arcs through the storm-soaked air. But they kept coming. And every time one screamed or bled, his hand hesitated, he couldn't bring himself to do real damage.
Soon he was surrounded. No room left to dodge, no path to break through. He switched from whips to concentrated bolts of lightning, but even that barely slowed the tide.
Then a voice boomed in his mind.
"You know what you must do, Killian. Why are you holding back?"
Killian shouted back, "Because they're people! I can't kill another human. It's wrong!"
"This new world is ruthless. It won't give you the luxury of mercy. One day soon, it will be kill or be killed, and you will have to choose."
A creature lunged, knocking him to the ground. Killian kicked it off and sprang back up with a clean kip-up, desperation fueling his movements. He swung his whip again and again, sparks bursting with each strike as he tried to hold the mob back.
"If this continues, you'll be here forever," the voice warned.
Killian drew in a shaky breath, gathering every ounce of power for a massive lightning strike. One that would blast open a path, no matter the cost.
The creatures stopped.
Then, one by one, they disintegrated into ash. The entire mob collapsed into drifting gray piles, dissolving into the wind. From that mountain of ash, something began to rise.
A figure. Emerging slowly. Taking shape. And Killian felt the air itself change. It was not an entity but a man. Brown-skinned, with thick locs hanging over his face. His shoulders were broad, his arms powerful beneath a black colored haori with blue bolts of lightning coming up from the bottom. White Kimono. Bare feet. Rounded shades. A full, neatly trimmed beard. The god from before.
He stood far from Killian.
"You fool. You really will die one day if you keep this mindset," the man said, annoyance dripping from his voice.
He waved his hand, and a dagger materialized in Killian's palm. Killian looked up-blinked-and in the instant his eyes reopened, the man was suddenly inches from him. Killian stumbled back, but the man seized his wrist, the one holding the blade, and pressed the dagger's point directly over his own heart.
"You're so weak-minded," he hissed. "You don't even have the guts to take a life, not even against something that isn't real just because it looks human. Wake up, kid. You're in a new world. And here?" He shoved Killian hard. "We play by different rules."
The shove sent Killian sliding across the dead earth.
"Didn't they tell you what happens when you fail?"
Killian's heart sank. He knew exactly what was coming. He whipped around and tried to run, but his legs felt like lead. His speed vanished, and it felt as if a crushing weight had been dropped on top of him.
The god appeared in front of him without sound. Killian's body froze mid-step as the man spoke a single command.
"Look up."
Killian's head snapped upward against his will. "They will tear you apart out there," the god said, disappointment heavy in his tone. A pale blue aura burst from his right hand, his fingers glowing like heated metal. He raised the hand, then brought it down in a swift chopping motion.
Killian didn't feel it at first.
Then he looked down, and horror seized him.
His arm was gone.
The pain struck all at once, a tidal wave of agony. Killian screamed until his voice broke, until the world blurred. But he still couldn't move, the god's power held him in place like invisible chains. Then the pain vanished. Killian gasped and looked again. His arm was suddenly back, perfectly intact.
"You monster!" Killian roared. "How could someone like you ever be a guardian?!"
The man gave a sharp, amused smile. "Call it tough love."
"I'll never accept someone like you!"
"Oh, but you will, Mr. Kingston!" the man said cheerfully.
His body split like a reflection breaking, a duplicate stepping out from within him. The original dissolved into dust and drifted away. "You will kill this copy of me," the man's voice echoed inside Killian's head. "It is weaker, but still strong enough to kill you. If you refuse to strike it down... it absolutely will strike you down."
The crippling weight vanished from Killian's body. He staggered back, instincts snapping online. The clone summoned a sword from thin air, its arms now coated in dragon-like scales, gleaming like armor. It didn't hesitate. It charged.
Killian dodged, then dodged again. The clone recovered instantly, matching his speed.
Killian stopped running. Lightning gathered in his hand as he faced the clone head-on. They clashed, steel against pure electricity. The clone fought with ruthless precision, every strike meant to kill. Killian struggled to keep up, his breath breaking, his defenses slipping.
A heavy strike knocked him to the ground. The clone pinned him, pressing the sword against Killian's throat. The blade bit into his skin, but Killian caught it with his hand just in time. Blood poured down his wrist as the clone pushed harder. Killian let out a choked yell.
Acting on pure instinct, Killian twisted his body, tossing the clone over his shoulder. He rolled, snatched the blade, and slammed it against the clone's throat. Blood welled as the edge pressed deeper. The clone raised its hand to summon something, but Killian grabbed the wrist and crushed it into the dirt.
His mind cleared.
This wouldn't end until one of them died.
Killian stared at the clone's chest-at the spot where its heart would be. He lifted the blade. His hands shook. And then he drove the sword downward. He kept his eyes shut as the clone's struggle slowly stopped. When he opened them, the body was already dissolving, crumbling into ash. A breeze carried it away.
Killian sat down, staring at the ground, shaking, breathing hard. He stared at the blood on his hands, and on his clothes. He threw up on the ground beside him.
"I'm done," he said through clenched teeth. "Did you hear me?! I'm done, I passed your little test, send me back."
"Don't be in such a rush, Mr. Kingston," a voice called from above.
Killian looked up at a dead tree. The man sat lazily on one of the withered branches. He dropped down, landing with a soft thud, and walked toward Killian with a satisfied smile.
"You may want to hear what I have to say. I can tell you many things that may interest you. For instance, the location of your brother."
Killian's eyes widened.
"I can also tell you why your powers exist, and why they are unlike anyone else's. I possess many abilities, far more than the other gods. Nature itself bends to me, and beyond that, I wield forces even they cannot comprehend."
Killian's jaw clenched. "Where is my brother?"
The god smiled faintly. "Do not fear. I have watched him. He is important to what must come. He is stronger than the Abbot, and I have only granted him one ability so far. He far exceeds my expectations and even leads a group now. You will see him in time."
Anger flared inside Killian.
He stepped closer, his presence almost suffocating.
"Listen Killian, A great disaster approaches. If you do not stop it, everything and everyone you love may perish. You have time, but not as much as you think. Only when you reach the strength required will I reveal the truth of this world... and the truth of your father."
Killian froze. His father. His mysterious death. His mother's evasive answers.
"You're going to tell me now!" Killian snapped. He tried to activate his powers, but they flickered and vanished instantly, smothered by the god's will.
But Killian didn't need abilities. He lunged forward with raw physical force-
-and dropped to his knees under overwhelming pressure.
Is this feeling I felt before gravity? Killian thought.
"Yes," the god answered.
Killian's blood ran cold.
"And I can read minds as well. I possess many, many more abilities," he continued. "Because I am the God of Gods. Their creator. And that is all you will learn today."
He leaned down close to Killian.
"Do not hate me Killian, there will come a time where you realize ultimately I am here to help you. Remember what you have learned here. Remember your potential. From this moment on, you are my vessel. You will uncover the secrets of this world. You will seek your brother. You will fight. You will prevent the great catastrophe. And you will need me to do it."
His voice deepened, echoing across the field as he walked away.
"I refuse!" Killian yelled to the god as he walked away.
The god just laughed.
"Whether you want me or not, Mr. Kingston, we are bound. And you will heed my warning."
Killian knew he needed power to survive in this world. And whoever this god was, he knew where his brother was, and that was information he had to have. He thought it through, as much as he disliked this guy, the man was right.
He needed answers. He needed to find his brother.
"Fine," Killian said. "I'll get stronger. And I'll do what I need to do to protect my friends, and find my brother. No matter what."
The god grinned with his back turned.
Killian thought, If this trial is over, send me back.
The god smiled, mind reading again, and raised his hand. A single wave sent Killian plummeting back to the mortal world.
At the training grounds, the boys waited anxiously. Rain had poured nonstop for two hours. The thunder boomed so greatly it felt like it shook the mountains.
Then another lightning strike right in the center again. Killian appeared in the center, unconscious, but alive.
"Thank God," Deandre breathed in relief.
They carried Killian toward his room as the sky finally cleared, sunlight spilling across the village once more.
He had passed.