The kids fought like cornered beasts, but the sheer gap in cultivation and physical size began to crush them. Darren fought desperately beside Nathan, his Mountain Bear spirit manifesting as a brown, stony aura around his fists as he traded blows with two gang members at once.
*Clang!*
A heavy iron club slammed across Darren's ribs, sending him crashing into the blood-slicked dirt. Spitting blood, Darren looked up through blurred vision to see the White Skull leader standing over a wounded Nathan, a gleaming broadsword raised high.
'No... Nathan!' Darren's mind raced frantically as panic seized him. 'He's the one who was supposed to lead us out of here! Why can't he stand up?! Why is he about to die like the rest of us?!'
In that desperate split second, something deep within Darren's soul ruptured. The feeling of powerlessness, the memories of starving in alleyways, begging for copper, and watching his brothers die ignited his Spirit Core into a blinding inferno.
