Day after day, Fin and Ren moved through the same motions — a routine that never changed, and never let them forget.
But one day, Ren spotted something. A trolley — the same one used to haul waste out of the facility.
Heart pounding, he rushed to Fin.
"Hey! I found a way to escape this place!"
Fin looked up, eyes tired but curious. "How? From where?"
Ren glanced around, lowering his voice. "The waste trolley. We can hide in it — ride it out."
Fin leaned closer, thinking quickly. "It's possible… but we'll need a solid plan."
Ren nodded. "First, we track the timing — when it enters and leaves the facility."
Days turned into weeks.
The two boys observed the guards, memorizing schedules, noting weaknesses. They waited.
Then, one afternoon in the canteen, the plan was set in motion.
Ren approached the kitchen door guard and struck up a distraction. Meanwhile, Fin slipped silently into the kitchen, scanning the shelves — until he found it: a barrel of kerosene.
He filled a cooking oil bottle, sealed it tight, and snuck out unnoticed.
Later, during lunch, the chef unknowingly used the tampered oil.
A massive explosion rocked the kitchen.
The walls trembled. Flames burst out of the doors. Guards scrambled in chaos.
In the confusion, Ren and Fin slipped into the waste trolley, pulling the lid over them.
They waited. And waited.
Fin whispered, "Something's off. We should've moved by now."
Suddenly, the trolley jerked and began to move.
"We're getting out!" Ren said, his voice trembling with hope. "We're going to be free."
But freedom never came.
The trolley stopped inside a room. The lid was flung open. Blinding light.
As their eyes adjusted, they saw Skarith, lounging on a couch, smoking a cigar.
The smile on his scarred face sent a chill down their spines.
He chuckled. "I like you kids — so hopeful, so full of fire."
He stood slowly, stretching. "You caused quite the mess. Three men dead. Kitchen destroyed. Very impressive."
He walked over to a closet, his tone darkening.
"But I can't let you escape. If I do, others will try. And I can't allow that. Order must be maintained."
His hand gripped something inside.
"So… whose idea was it?"
Ren opened his mouth — but Fin stepped forward.
"It was me."
In a blur, Skarith drew a blade and sliced Fin clean in half.
Blood sprayed across Ren, soaking his face and chest.
He froze. His breathing ragged. His heart pounding like war drums.
A guard reached to pull Fin's body away — but Ren's scream echoed like a beast's.
The guard was shredded mid-motion.
Blood splattered the walls. The other guards charged — and Ren tore through them, ripping limbs, shattering bones, driven by something not human.
Skarith lunged, sword raised — but Ren moved faster.
His hand glowed blue, and he punched Skarith so hard he crashed through the wall, flying into the street in a rain of rubble.
Ren staggered. His arm, swollen and broken, turned deep blue from the energy he unleashed.
More guards rushed in.
Ren didn't stop.
He slaughtered them, splitting them in two, eyes wild with fury.
Then — a sharp pain. A fatal blow landed on his back, sending him flying through a window, into the city streets, amidst screaming civilians.
He looked around, bloodlust in his eyes — but something caught his attention.
A figure stepped forward.from inside the building in thick smoke ,with tremdous presence
A man in silver-white armor, holding a massive, golden-glowing sword.
"Calm down, kid," the man said. "I don't want to hurt you."
Ren didn't listen.
He charged, unleashing blue-fueled punches, swinging wildly.
The knight parried each strike effortlessly. "Don't make me—"
Ren roared, lunging — but the knight swung.
A clean slash — Ren's arm fell, severed at the elbow.
Ren howled. A beast's scream that shattered nearby windows.
Still, he fought — even with one hand.
Then, he raised his good arm, and with a roar, began shaping water from the air into a deadly spear.
He hurled it at the knight — who blocked with his blade, the ground quaking beneath them.
The air cracked as their powers collided.
Buildings splintered. Glass rained. Thunder boomed.
The knight narrowed his eyes and suddenly lunged forward, his boot slamming into Ren's chest.
CRACK.
The kick sent Ren flying backward, air blasted from his lungs as his body soared through the smoke and rubble.
But even as he flew, he raised his good arm.
Eyes burning. Teeth clenched.
With a snarl, he summoned the moisture in the air — and unleashed it.
Geysers erupted beneath him, massive jets of scalding water shooting toward the knight like spears of fury.
One after another — boom, boom, BOOM — each geyser struck like a cannon blast, steam hissing and clouds of vapor engulfing the battlefield.
The sheer pressure twisted Ren's arm with every cast, his muscles tearing, skin splitting from the force.
But he didn't stop.
He kept firing, wave after wave — a storm birthed from pain.
The knight raised his glowing sword, shielding himself, steam curling around him like ghosts.
When it cleared, he stood unmoved — armor scorched, but stance unwavering.
And Ren, trembling, broken, hung in mid-air a moment longer — before crashing hard into the stone below, panting, his body twitching from strain.
with every attack his body get damage due to pressure of attacks ,
All around them, Royal Knights began evacuating civilians, forming barriers to contain the destruction.
Ren let out a primal roar and lunged forward, fist glowing an intense, violent blue.
The knight met him head-on, his golden-armored fist surging with divine energy.
Their punches collided with a deafening crack.
A blinding shockwave erupted from the impact — a wave of raw force that blasted outward in every direction.
The reinforced barrier formed by the Royal Knights shattered instantly — golden sigils dissolving like glass under a hammer.
The ground split. Air warped. Buildings nearby cracked as the explosion of power rocked the battlefield.
Even the mages standing at a distance staggered, shielding their faces from the hurricane-force blast.
In the center of it all stood Ren — panting, bleeding, eyes burning — and the silver knight, unmoved, gaze now filled with grim resolve.
Ren charged again, striking, spinning, smashing.
Ren stood motionless, his chest heaving, eyes locked on the knight.
Then… the air shifted.
A strange stillness settled over the battlefield.
Water from the city — from fountains, pipes, drains, even the air itself — began to rise. Droplets lifted skyward, swirling toward him like a storm given purpose.
Above him, the collected water began to spiral, rotating faster and faster — compressing, condensing, forming edges sharp as blades.
A massive shuriken took shape, floating high, its surface shimmering like liquid crystal.
The knight narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing…?"
Ren didn't respond. His body trembled, not from fear — but from the energy tearing through him.
Then came the sound — wet, unnatural.
His severed arm began to regenerate.
Flesh writhed. Muscle stretched and twisted. Bones cracked and reformed, pushing outward in bursts of light and steam. Skin knit itself over raw tissue in seconds.
The knight's expression changed.
Cold. Serious. Almost… grieving.
He whispered:
"You were never meant to be like this…"
Then, his fist ignited with golden energy — pure and blinding.
With a roar that split the sky, Ren hurled the massive water shuriken toward the knight.
It tore through the air like a comet, the pressure alone cratering the ground beneath it.
But the knight didn't flinch.
In a flash of silver and gold, he twisted his body, slashing his glowing sword upward — and redirected the shuriken into the sky.
The instant it veered off-course, he moved.
In a blink, he was in front of Ren.
His golden fist slammed into Ren's chest — pure, divine force behind it.
The impact detonated a shockwave so massive it flattened the surrounding buildings and hurled debris across the battlefield.
Ren's body flew backward like a ragdoll, his consciousness fading.
And then — BOOM.
High above, the redirected shuriken exploded in the sky.
A second shockwave, even greater than the first, cascaded across the city like a falling star made of oceans.
The heavens lit up with refracted light — a dome of water and energy crashing down.
Royal mages raised barriers, chanting in desperation to contain the fallout.
The air fell silent.
Smoke drifted like mist over scorched stone.
In the quiet aftermath, the silver knight stood still — his armor scorched, but his stance unshaken.
A shadow fell across him as wings beat the air.
A dragon landed beside him, and a woman in black and crimson armor dismounted.
She looked at the ruins… and then at the boy, unconscious and broken.
Her voice was ice.
"So… this boy did all of this?"