Weeks bled into each other under the pitiless sun, each dawn indistinguishable from the last.
The beast, a relentless engine of destruction, was their constant tormentor.
It never delivered a killing blow, but each impact chipped away at their stamina, their resolve, leaving them bruised and battered.
And after every brutal encounter, Kang's voice, a whip of scorn, lashed out, reminding Bakari of his perceived failures.
Yuri, with quiet intensity, was improving, adapting. Bakari, however, felt like a blunt instrument – powerful, perhaps, but clumsy, lacking finesse.
"Celestial energy is the key," Kang had drilled into them, his voice echoing in Bakari's memory.
Celestials were beings born of this energy, their very essence woven from its threads. "Master it, and you master yourselves." Easier said than done.
They fought, and fought, and fought, the beast and them locked in a seemingly endless cycle.
But on their last legs, with nothing left to give, a silent pact formed between Bakari and Yuri: they would beat this thing, or break trying.
Yuri, his brow furrowed in concentration, tapped into his Authority. Bone, the very essence of his being, erupted from his skin, forming a shield with impossible speed and precision, pinning the beast.
Seizing the moment, Bakari sprinted—miles across the vast, unforgiving landscape, a blur against the horizon—then blitzed back with the last dregs of his strength.
His raw power, unleashed in a supernova of fury, shattered the beast.
Afterward, instead of praise, Kang's scolding intensified, a bitter contrast to the validation Bakari craved.
Disappointment stung, but Yuri remained unfazed, his expression unreadable.
Kang's lecture centered on their untapped celestial energy, a weapon left unused, a sword sheathed in battle.
He insisted they fuse this power with their very beings, a process Bakari protested as agonizing.
Yuri, however, endured the pain with stoic silence.
Kang then guided them on how to make the fusion permanent, his instructions precise and demanding.
He closed his eyes, trying to follow Kang's instructions, to feel the energy within. Nothing.
Just the familiar burn of exhausted muscles, the throbbing ache of old wounds reopening.
He forced himself to breathe, slowing his racing heart, trying to quell the turmoil in his mind.
Inhale.
He focused on the faint glimmer of celestial energy already within him, trying to coax it, to shape it, to command it. Exhale.
He released the tension, the doubt, the fear that had been holding him back.
He raised his hands, palms up, reaching for something he couldn't see, something just beyond his grasp.
He lowered them, feeling the heavy weight of his own body, the frustrating limitations of his physical strength.
Again. Again. He pushed, strained, willed it to happen.
Then, a spark ignited deep inside him. A connection, fragile but undeniable.
It was like finally slotting a battery into place, feeling the circuit complete, a surge of untapped potential coursing through his veins.
His body, finally aligned, ready to channel the full extent of its celestial energy.
There.
His eyes snapped open, burning with an unfamiliar, incandescent light. Orange, like molten fire.
A shockwave ripped through the air, kicking up dust and pebbles, even causing Yuri to stumble back a step.
Energy coursed through Bakari, fusing with his very cells, rewriting his very being.
"Blast, this feels… whoa." He rolled his shoulders, testing the newfound power thrumming within him, a wild, untamed force.
Yuri approached, his single eye narrowed in assessment.
They exchanged their unique handshake – a brief, complex series of movements that spoke volumes without a word. "Finally," Yuri said, a hint of anticipation in his voice.
Kang sauntered over, munching from a styrofoam box.
"Now that's the kind of stuff I want to see!" he exclaimed between bites of greasy fries.
"I don't know what those soft-handed bureaucrats in Pluton are thinking, sending brats like you out here without even teaching you how to properly wield your energy.
No wonder you boys are so weak."
"Yeah, well, we stopped because doing actually feels like being burned alive from the inside out," Bakari retorted, a hint of defiance in his voice.
Kang forked more fries into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
"If you couldn't handle a little discomfort, why did the King send you after the Celestials in the first place?"
"The King didn't send us. It was his father, the Chief of…" Bakari started to explain, frustration rising.
"That's just plain stupid," Kang interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. "Why'd he do that?"
Yuri sighed, his patience wearing thin. "The palace was under attack, and we were the only ones available at the time. We were a last resort
"Still," Kang conceded, "you boys are strong, and you've got a decent amount of raw energy.
Now, I want you to develop your Authorities even further – gain some real attacks, something that'll give you an edge in a fight, both offensive and defensive."
He backed up, gesturing with his fork. "Show me what you can do."
They stood there, a little uncertain, unsure of where to even begin.
Kang raised a mocking eyebrow. "Go on. Demonstrate. Impress me."
Bakari scratched his head, a sheepish expression on his face. "Funny thing is, I haven't exactly manifested my Authority yet..."
Kang stared at Bakari, a harsh, grating laugh escaping his lips.
"Not manifested? Ha! After all this time? What a joke."
He glanced around the barren, sandy landscape, his expression dripping with disdain.
"But anyways," Kang continued, his tone shifting, "since you both have made some progress..." He paused, a calculating glint in his eye. "We'll put this training on hold."
Bakari frowned, suspicion clouding his features. "Hold? Why? What's going on?"
"We're going on a little field trip," Kang announced, a sly, unsettling smile spreading across his face.
Yuri tilted his head, his single eye narrowed in curiosity and a hint of wariness. "Field trip?"
"Yeah," Kang confirmed. "I've got some… associates locked up in a government facility. People who need to be extracted."
He snapped his fingers, the sound sharp and decisive. "And I need you two to break them out."
Bakari's thoughts raced, the pieces falling into place with sickening clarity. So that's why he was pushing us so hard.
That's why he was so eager to unlock our potential. He glared at Kang, a silent accusation burning in his eyes. *This manipulative bastard.*
Bakari gritted his teeth, forcing out a reluctant, "Yeah, we'll help." He didn't like it, but he knew they had little choice.
Yuri cut in, his tone flat and devoid of emotion, "You didn't even need to ask. We have no choice in the matter.
We need him more than he needs us, so anything he wants, we're doing it."
Kang, mid-bite, paused, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "You're making it sound like I'm some kind of slave driver."
Bakari's gaze hardened, his voice laced with barely suppressed anger. "You kind of are."
Later, back in the cramped, dimly lit basement, Kang spread the blueprint across the makeshift table, gesturing for Bakari and Yuri to come closer.
"Feast your eyes, boys," he said, a hint of predatory glee in his voice. "This is the Clementine Facility."
He tapped a specific point on the complex diagram. "Sitting pretty in the middle of the ocean. And lucky for us, it's practically in our backyard."
He traced a finger along the intricate lines of the blueprint, outlining the facility's structure and security measures. "That's where we're headed. Our destination."
Yuri frowned, his single eye fixed on the blueprint, analyzing every detail. "So why would a human facility like this be holding people like us? Seems more like a high-security prison setup."
Kang chuckled, a low, unsettling sound. "It's not just a prison, Yuri. Humans are… complicated creatures, boys. They do strange, often inexplicable things."
Bakari leaned in, his gaze intense, his voice low and dangerous. "Who are these people you want us to extract, Kang? Are they like us? Half-bloods?"
Kang met his gaze, his expression unreadable for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. They're like you. They're… family.
Bakari turned to Yuri, a silent, unspoken understanding passing between them. The shared experience of being different, of being hunted, of being used
"He doesn't need to say any more," Bakari said, his voice firm. "We're doing this."
Yuri hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded in grim agreement. The decision was made.
Kang, his eyes narrowed, studied them both, gauging their reactions, assessing their loyalty. Bakari turned back to him, his expression resolute, his eyes burning with a newfound determination.
"So, Kang," he asked, his voice dangerously calm, "what's next? What's the plan?"