The room smelled faintly of cedar polish and old books. Kyle sat on the edge of his bed, a towel draped over his shoulders as he dried his medium size, shoulder level locks.
A few strands were white similar to his eyebrows. His eyes lingered on the framed family photo resting on the nightstand.
In it were his younger self, his mother and his late father his arms wrapped protectively around Kyle's baby sister. His father was tall, brown skinned, with faintly scattered facial hair and sharp brown eyes.
Kyle's sister had inherited the same patch of white hair and white eyebrows, a condition passed down from their mother. While his sister resembled their mother, Kyle looked more like his father. In a few years, he could easily be mistaken for the man in the picture.
"Life's as unpredictable as ever, old man," Kyle murmured, reaching for the photo. "I wish you and Grandma were here."
His eyes watered as he looked at his father's cheerful expression. His father and grandmother had been the strongest pillars in his life. His father's wisdom had shaped him, while his mother's and grandmother's love kept him standing when life tried to break him.
From the bottom of society, the family had clawed their way back to the top. Even the great families and clans have to show them respect. And Those who kicked them when they were down now hid their faces whenever they crossed paths.
Yet the two people who had believed in him most weren't here to witness the triumph or share in the success.
"Son, life is strange and full of surprises, some good, some bad. It nothing we have control of. We cannot control how, when or to whom things happen. However one thing's certain life is a journey there are ups and downs, but do not let it hold you down. When challenges come and they always do, face them head on and keep moving.when the time comes, you'll regret nothing, son."
His father's words echoed in his mind. Losing his grandmother had hurt deeply.
Back then, they lived among the Makenas one the Seven Kings of Mau City. Life there was harsh. Though they are related by blood, Kyle's family was treated like outsiders.
Only his grandmother had truly embraced them, her kindness and love, a rare light in a cold house. She showered him with affection and small gifts like toys that made his world brighter.
But his cousins had been cruel. He tried to befriend them countless times, only to be met with rejection, bruises, and broken toys. Eventually he stopped trying and spent most of his time indoors. Keeping company his loving grandmother.
After she died they were forced to move away. Life slowly improved. Kyle made friends and lived like a normal kid, but that happiness did not last long.
His father passed three years later, and their perfect world collapsed. Overnight, they lost everything wealth and status his father had built. Even their so called family friends vanished. Despite her education, their mother couldn't find a decent job. She was forced to worked multiple jobs just to keep them afloat.
Those were their darkest days and a past Kyle swore would never repeat.
He clawed his way back to the top, easing his mother's burden. In the process, he made all kinds of enemies politicians, underworld syndicates, even elements of the government itself.
Now that he'd reclaimed his family's glory, their safety and well being remained his top priority.
A sudden warmth trickled from his nose. Kyle touched it and stared at the smear of red on his thumb. Drops of blood splattered the photo.
He sighed, wiping it away, then crossed to the nightstand and pulled out an injector.
Without hesitation he drove the needle into his chest. Within seconds, the bleeding stopped leaving only faint irritation.
"Almost forgot today's shot, Last month's experience sucked."he muttered with a small grin. Recolling the pain he experienced last month after forgetting his monthly shot, he would hate to experience that again.
A sharp buzz of his phone cut through the silence. Kyle groaned as he glanced at the screen. Locks.
He ignored it and went to rinsed his face. when he returned, the phone was still buzzing its vibrations drumming insistently against the wood.
"Hey," he said at last, answering. "I'm not one of your bedtime flings, asshole. Why are you calling me this late?"
"Don't flatter yourself," came the reply. "This beautiful spaceman isn't into men. I have to say no, but thanks."
Kyle gritted his teeth, imagining the smirk on Locks face. "Who said I was asking, fool?"
Locks is Kyle's best friend, a charming menace and a certified troublemaker. The kind of guy parents warned their kids about. If he wasn't pranking someone, he was drunk or tangled up in something shady.
Kyle figured the call to be another of his antics.
"While you're tucked under your blanket, the upper class of Mau are in chaos," Locks said. "The patriarch of Ithara family as been found dead in his basement. Him and eleven others. Their bodies were withered, skin cracked, pale, like decades of life got sucked out in seconds. They were found with Symbols carved into their flesh. Each victim a different symbol from the other."
Kyle frowned. "You're saying someone attacked one of the kings of Mau city, killed their patriarch and a dozen others and no one noticed? Not the authorities or the other families? Maybe you should check into Mau Asylum. Compared to you, the patients there are sane."
It sounded absurd. The Itharas were one of the Seven Kings of Mau city powerful and influential, enough to shape Mau city's future.
Their reach extended far beyond Mau City into every corner of Heritage. Not even the underworld dared cross them.
"Did I mention it looked like a ritual? There was an altar in the basement… and the rest of the family is missing. I think whoever did it is the real deal."
"A ritual? to the devil?" Kyle scoffed. "You're definitely off your meds." He hung up.
"This guy," he muttered. "Would he die if he went a day without pranking anyone? That was the worst so far, what even made him think I would fall for it?"
Still, something about the call bugged him. Locks jokes were usually more elaborate.
His phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message with photos and a video.
Kyle opened them and froze.
It was exactly as Locks described. A pentagon drawn in red across the floor, symbols scrawled at each corner, matching those carved into the victims skin. Their faces were shriveled, eyes hollowed, expressions twisted in terror. They looked as though they'd aged a century in seconds.
In this world where humans could cultivate their will until the limit of the body was all that restrained them.
Kyle had seen all kinds of strange abilities but never one that could make people age so rapidly. No one, not even elders from ancient clans and families have such an ability.
There is only one person in the entire world that may have the ability to do something like that. The Mau Devil. Under the right conditions, perhaps he could pull off such a feat.
"Huh..." He was about to give locks a call when the thought crossed his mind but a searing light flooded Kyle's vision. His chest tightened as a foreign, invasive energy forced its way into his body. For a heartbeat he couldn't breathe.
Then came the dizziness and the sense that gravity itself had vanished.
Then followed by a single, deafening moment of silence.