In the city of Creedheart, a showdown was occurring in a dark, smelly alleyway. Four burly and brutish men surrounded a slender, handsome, brown-haired boy of 16, who was wearing a school uniform and carrying a book bag.
As the thugs closed in from all sides, the boy took a fighting stance, knees slightly bent, hands raised, muscles taut with anticipation, and a determined look on his face.
The brute from the left covered the distance first, a tall, muscular, and hairy man with tattoos covering every inch of his body, and as he closed in on the boy, he sent a powerful right hook hurtling towards the boy's jaw.
The boy ducked the blow and sent an uppercut at the tattooed man, but before it could connect, the bald man had already approached from behind and kicked him hard on his back.
The boy fell hard on his face, his hands doing nothing to soften the impact.
"What the actual hell is your problem?!" the boy finally spoke, his voice dripping with anger. "I already said I don't have any money!"
"Sure, kid, whatever you say," said the tattooed man. "You're dressed like that and you have no money, makes a helluva lot of sense, don't it, fellas?"
"It sure doesn't, boss!" spoke up another crook, this one with spiky hair. "This little guy is a posh-looking kid if I've ever seen one!"
After removing his communicator from his wrist and giving him bruises all over his body, the crooks had begun a systematic emptying of his belongings, looting them until nothing remained. The boy crawled to a dark corner of the alleyway, rage showing in every contortion of his face.
"Boss, we should get rid of him so he can't talk," said the final member of the crooks, a skinny man with mousey features and stringy black hair.
"You think you can step on me like that, huh?" the boy murmured, his voice growing with every passing second. "Well... I'M GONNA KILL YOU BASTARDS!!" he screamed the last words with a guttural cry, veins throbbing on his neck.
Immediately following his words, a ball of fire had begun forming above his palm, growing in size and intensity with every passing second.
However, before he could do much with the fireball, a group of five Internal Defense soldiers entered the alleyway, each wearing sharp white uniforms with gold accents and carrying an assortment of weapons ranging from swords to bows.
"Stand down, lawbreakers," said the man leading the group. He was a tall and muscular man with brown hair and a chiseled beard.
Directly following his words, a loud explosion was heard. The fireball in the boy's hand had detonated, exploding point-blank in front of him.
His corpse fell in a smoking, blackened heap on the ground, his body mutilated and face scorched to a mangled mass of burning flesh.
The four thugs staggered back, shock and horror plastered on their faces as a result of the grim scene.
The leading officer frowned and spoke in a gruff voice.
"Stupid boy. Tried to enhance a spell he just learned. That's what happens to idiots when they learn their affinity and think they're the next Orin."
"Yeah, I saw a few cases of these when I was working as a guard over at the Commons. A few kids came over after learning their affinity and started showing off. Next thing you know, three are dead and six were hospitalized," said another soldier, this one of average height and muscular with rusty brown hair.
"Alright, guys, get these four and that body to HQ, I'm gonna go talk to our informant."
Following his words, an assortment of voices rang out in agreement.
Each arresting one and one somehow making the body disappear, four Internal Defense soldiers left the entrance to the alley, nodding in turn to the figure wearing a black hoodie, sweatpants, and shoes.
He had on headphones and was on his phone.
"Thanks again, son," said the captain of the squad, bowing slightly to the boy. "The less rot we have inside the Empire, the more we can worry about the Underworlders. And I'm sorry you had to witness such a brutal scene."
"It was no problem, officer," Atlas said. "If anything, I'm happy you arrived so quickly."
"Just doin' our job, kid. Just doin' our job. By the way, what did you say your name was again?"
"Atlas Vesper," I said.
"Alright, kid, I'll be seeing you around. Take care," the officer said extending his hand for a handshake.
Atlas took his hand and said, "Thank you, take care as well."
He left, walking down the street before jumping high into the sky, his body turning into a blur midair before taking off for the shining lights and sparkling monoliths of downtown Creedheart, where the Internal Defense headquarters were located.
Atlas simply watched him leave before sighing and shaking his head. He turned his music back on and began to walk down the street with his hands in his pockets.
He thought about what had happened for a second. He had seen a young boy, his age, die.
'That could have been me,' Atlas thought. But then he asked me: did he really care?
Atlas looked up at the hover cars zipping around in the air, the holograms advertising businesses on every corner, and the people walking hurriedly on the sidewalk.
The stars were quite clear in the sky.
'Nah,' he decided. 'Why should I care about some random fool who got himself killed? I have enough on my mind as it is.'
Continuing to stroll, he observed his surroundings. Just about everything was advanced; some of the more wealthy districts floated above, connected by aerial bridges. Almost every building had its own lush rooftop garden, and everything was solar and wind-powered.
As he passed a fashion boutique, he took a second to look at himself in the reflection of the showcase window.
Atlas stood at exactly 6'0" with fair skin and messy black hair. He had an average face, nothing seriously handsome.
He wore a worn black hoodie with grey sweatpants and used sneakers to match. To complete the set, he was wearing black headphones. He continued on the way to his home.
Before he knew it, he had arrived at his humble abode. He and, well, not his friends, but let's say acquaintances, all lived at the same place.
By acquaintances, he meant his fellow orphans, at least those whose parents died while fighting the Underworlders and were taken care of by the government.
It was a shabby building, but it was mine. He had lived in it as long as he could remember and had grown accustomed to the worn-down place.
After unlocking a side door using a key and walking through it, he slipped quietly through the dimly lit halls, not wanting to disturb anyone.
After all, he just couldn't put up with the constant, useless, absolute nonsense that came out of the mouths of the other high schoolers who were known as "mature young men and women."
Finally reaching his room, he opened the door, revealing an interior decorated by only a simple bed, a wardrobe, and a desk connected to a simple bathroom
He tossed his clothes off and took a quick shower. Returning to his room, Atlas flopped on his bed and simply stared at the ceiling.
"Tomorrow is when I find out my affinity. Tomorrow is the day I can finally start my journey," he said aloud, lost in the emotions that came with the words.
And after a long pause, he sighed.
"I can just hope for the best."