The revelation struck Kenzo like a silent thunderclap. What he had just seen ; what he had just understood was no trivial matter. He looked up at the guard standing before him. The man, frozen at first, had just realized the cruel truth: Kenzo was not the Phoenix.
A shadow passed through the soldier's eyes. A cruel satisfaction.
The silence lasted no longer than a heartbeat.
The guard burst out in a hoarse, mocking laugh—almost triumphant.
– « Well now, I didn't see that coming… A city rat chosen by the Revelation? Congratulations, really. But unfortunately for you… you're not the one we're looking for. »
His smile widened as he slowly drew his sword.
– « And that means you're going to have to die. »
Time seemed to slow. An unbearable tension thickened the air. The chains around Kenzo's wrists clinked softly, like a funeral bell. He took a step back. His breathing was shallow. His heart thundered in his chest. He wasn't the Phoenix—so he had become… expendable. Disposable.
But before the blade could fall, a loud metallic noise echoed from the direction of Yareth and the other prisoners. A gunshot.
The guard facing Kenzo turned sharply, startled. That was the moment Kenzo had been waiting for.
Without thinking, he lunged forward, fear turning into raw momentum. He kicked with all his strength, aiming for the guard's side. A desperate blow—not particularly powerful, but enough to buy a precious second. He had to create a diversion, buy time. That was his role. That was their only hope.
But Kenzo wasn't a warrior. Scrawny, skinny, weakened by days of captivity, his strike was insignificant. The guard barely flinched. Worse; he turned and punched Kenzo square in the jaw.
A flash of pain exploded in his head.
He had never been hit like that before. The blow made him stagger. Everything around him blurred. It felt like he'd been slammed by a truck. His ears rang. His right eye throbbed like a drum.
But he couldn't fall. Not now.
He stumbled backward, focusing on one thought: Buy time.
The guard stepped forward, the smugness of superiority etched on his face.
– « What do you think you're doing, little rat? Trying to live? Hahaha! Don't make me laugh… You were born to serve the strong, to be sacrificed. To die in the same filth that birthed you. »
He leaned in, his foul breath hitting Kenzo in the face.
– « No one will notice your death. No one knows you. And no one wants to. »
Those words… Kenzo had heard them before. Deep inside himself. A truth never spoken aloud. The world had never been kind to the weak. He was living proof.
But there was one thing the guard didn't know.
Kenzo lifted his head, gasping, eyes clouded but burning with a new fire.
– « You're wrong… » he spat, staggering.
– « Someone's waiting for me. So I'll survive. »
The guard, annoyed by this pointless resistance, raised his fist again. This time, Kenzo couldn't dodge. The punch hit him full force—but he held on.
Literally.
His fingers wrapped around the guard's arm. He pulled himself closer, taking more blows, each more violent than the last. Each impact stole a bit more of his clarity. But he waited… for the perfect moment.
Then, he felt it. The opening. With a cry of pent-up rage, he wrapped the chains hanging from his wrists around the guard's arm. Using all his weight, he spun violently, executing a move he'd seen in the slums.
He pulled, twisted, and...
Crack.
An inhuman scream tore through the air.
– « I'm going to kill you, you filthy little rat!! »
The guard howled. His arm now dangled at a grotesque angle. Despite the fog in his mind, Kenzo grinned. He'd broken something. He wasn't as useless as he'd believed.
But he didn't have time to savor the moment.
Blinded by rage, the guard tackled him to the ground and wrapped his powerful hands around Kenzo's throat.
Kenzo tried to struggle, but his strength was fading. His vision blurred. He couldn't breathe. He was slipping away.
His thoughts, like bubbles rising to the surface, drifted to an address. The one he'd been heading to the day he was taken. A modest place. A café maybe? No… it was…
One last breath.
Then suddenly, another gunshot rang out. Closer. Sharper.
The guard collapsed on top of him, eyes wide with shock.
Kenzo rolled to the side, coughing, gasping, desperately trying to fill his lungs. He blinked, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
A figure stood before him.
Yareth.
The young man held a stolen rifle. His gaze was intense, grave. In his left hand floated a glowing white sphere, radiant, almost divine.
His Orb.
Kenzo squinted, dazzled. Even in his state, he could feel the power it radiated.
Is he… the Phoenix?
Yareth stepped closer, lowering his weapon slightly.
– « I did it. Everyone's safe. »
He raised his Orb above his head.
– « It's been eight minutes since the Orb appeared… » He smiled. « So let me introduce myself properly. I am Prince Yareth Solenyra, fourth heir to the Kingdom of the Golden Dunes… and bearer of the Divine Power of Light. »
A… prince?
Kenzo couldn't believe his ears. It was impossible. A prince, here? He was part of the royal families? The ones you heard about in stories, in the news, in legends?
Yareth—the boy he had seen surviving under the same hellish conditions, sharing stale bread, smiling despite the pain ;was a prince?
Before he could ask a single question, the world around him distorted.
There was no ground. No walls. No prison.
Everything vanished.
Kenzo felt himself pulled into the void, the darkness, the infinite. He wasn't in pain. He wasn't afraid. It was… empty.
Then a voice echoed through the vast, dark space.
A voice with no tone. Neither human, nor mechanical.
[Welcome to your first test, Candidate.]