heart engine

CHAPTER 1

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Still cold.

My name is Saf, short for Sapphire. I am a messenger, and I am in the middle of work.

It is winter, and it is cold.

As I walk in this dark and dreary night, the cold winter winds blowing in my face and snow clouding my vision, I can only remember the time when I was younger. Winter nights by the fireplace and presents under the tree. Father sitting on his chair and mother knitting a sweater. What I would give to experience that again.

As my feet walk across the snow, my feet feel something different. "Huh?" I looked down.

It seems I stepped on something. It is difficult to see with these thick clothes on. I looked under my boot to find out it wasn't something, but someone. A girl, buried under 5 inches of snow. It wouldn't surprise me to see the blizzard claim another life, but by the looks of it, this one's still going. She breathes yet unconscious. I kneel down and feel her pulse, she's warm. I wonder how long she has been out here.

I look around for shelter, but a tree is the only thing visible. It will have to do. I carried her using both my arms, then lay her down by the stump. I pull out a shovel from my satchel and shovel up the little snow under the tree. I then pull out a tent and set up. A small campfire is all I can provide against the midnight winds. I can notice her shiver. I wasn't prepared to carry enough for two on this trip, but with what she's wearing, she'll die by sunrise. I give her what I wear. I can always stitch another one with what fur I have.

Her eyes open up as I wrap the fur on her. Her pupils are red, the same color of blood. I want to ask her questions. "Why are you out here-" I froze, not because of the cold, but because of her hand on my throat. She tosses me against the tent walls, causing it to break and fall apart. The coldness of the winds didn't take long to enter my body. I look up at her. Only then I noticed while on snow-covered ground, I wasn't helping a girl. I was helping a resident of Hell.

...

Earlier in Hell...

My name is Borris. I am one of the seven watchdogs of hell, and I'm in the middle of work.

I am strong and nobody else matters.

The King of Hell has chosen me as the first wave, he always had a knack to start things with a bang. I have lived a long life, walking in fire and pain. Now I am preparing to leave this place, and into another. I doubt the world of Man is any worse than fiery pits of my home. He gave me an easy task, destroy the biggest kingdom of the land and come back. I would be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to it.

I walk into the center of the room, surrounded by the elders sitting high on their podiums. They are getting ready to transport me. The eldest one stands up. He creeps his large old body towards mine, making a sound I could only compare to rotting bone. He speaks. "Fail this task, and you'll wish you were never born," I smirked, I couldn't help but giggle from his pathetic threat. It didn't take long for me to start laughing out of habit. Oh, if I had a list of each time my life was threatened. The Elder then reveals his wrist from under his old deteriorating cloth and presents it. He starts addressing me. "Borris, The End Executioner! You have been chosen by the King! You are the start of the new world! You are the start of a new War! Now go into the human world and claim it!" He slits his wrist and liters of blood pours out. The other Elders' chanting fills the room. The blood formed waves below my feet. Then it drags me down.

My feet touched the ground. I am here, the land of the living, the human world. I noticed it was different from what I heard. It wasn't covered in green burnable grass, it was all white. Not even a tree or house to set ablaze. I burned everything within a 50 meter radius, but the white only melted; it was water, it's the first time I've seen it in this form. I ignored it and started to travel. The temperature is different, the sun is high, but the wind is cold. The clothing I have on me is made to sustain extreme heat, not the other way around. No matter, I can create my own heat. This place is no match against me.

9 hours later

What happened?! How did this human get so close to me?! How did I get captured?! I take a look around, it's dark out, the wind is stronger and frozen water is hitting me. I think about it and remember, my fire was set out. I see the boy stand up. I prepare my fire from my hands, but it refuses to light up. I am in no position to attack, so I take the defensive. I watch him. He walks forward with both his hands up. Is he surrendering? No, that's what he wants me to think. He slowly grabs something from the ground. I aim my palm at him, ready to attack with all that's left. He picks it and tosses it in front of me.

"Take it. It'll keep you warm,"

He said while trying to keep himself warm. With those simple words, he manages to confuse me. Then I realized what he was implying... Do I look like some sort of weakling?! "How dare you?!" My fire starts out of irritation, ready to attack. He steps back and takes a strange position, it seems he knows what's happening. He kicks frozen water from the ground onto me. My fire goes out and my vision's blocked. By the time I could see, his equipment had disappeared along with him. My fire if refusing to light, it's impossible to chase him in this darkness. I noticed he left his makeshift shelter. I irritatingly wear the clothing he threw at me. I'd burn it for fire, but it wouldn't be enough. Why didn't he take his shelter? It's next to his equipment so why didn't he-? I paused thinking about it. He thinks I need it... How dare he?! I scream at his direction. "How dare you?!!!"

A quarter of a kilometer away

My heavy breathing is letting the cold in. The wind is too strong, I need another coat fast. I pulled out some fur and stitched a set from my satchel. I can faintly hear the screams of the demon I just encountered. Then a large explosion goes behind me. The tree I was just at is set on fire. I guess that goes for the tent as well. I can't believe I forgot to pick it up, that tent served me well over the years. More the reason to find the next village over. I finish up the stitching and wear the newly-made coat. "It works," I said acceptingly. I look forward to the darkness of the night. I should be thankful that encounter only cost me a tent and a coat.

I continue walking through the night.

In this world, people are born with Engines in their hearts. A unique surge of power passed down through generation after generation. As an example, people born in the Unity Kingdom possess the Unity engine. Their Engines let them connect to their fellow Unity users, letting them share power, information or memories, without even talking; the only downside is the users have to be close to one another for it to work. It's a unique skill special to them and it's perfect for maintaining the peace and order around the land, with it being filled with people and all. If anything unnatural happens, the soldiers at Unity are usually the first to know of it. Their motto is research, order, and development. They're just gradually getting better thanks to their people.

Though, this isn't the first time Hell opened its doors. Long ago, the people of Gold Source, one of the earlier civilizations to have Engines, were the first to encounter the demons. They fought them well, forcing them to retreat to where they once came. They were strong and they were vicious, but now you could say their Engine is outdated. Engines do improve with time, but some of Source's offspring do not seem to want to.

I, on the other hand, have the Infinity engine. I am able to carry as many things as I want, regardless of number or size. I could fit a house in my pocket or a sword in my pouch. I do not know why I have this Engine, my parents told me it was part of a separate Engine in my ancestry. I always thought it was just an abnormality, but I found it's best not to think too much of it.

I can see light. In the darkness across the fast-falling snow, lies a tavern, only a tavern. Its lights are leaking through its windows. "Finally," I said with relief. I quickly charge towards it. Getting near, I could feel it's slight warmth from the outside. I get to the door.

I grab the handle, but something else grabs me. I get pulled away from the door and thrown onto the snow. I immediately grab the snow on my hand, getting ready to face Fire. Instead, it was something else, firepower. A gun is pointed at me, point-blank range to my face, while three men surround me. The gun I'm looking at has the initials N.D. written on the side of it. Naughty Dogs, a group of self-proclaimed mercenaries who recently took advantage of the latest weaponry development. Their Engine lets them specialize in whatever weapon they hold, be it a rock or the recently introduced - guns. All three of them are holding a gun of their own.

The one holding the gun to my face speaks up. "We are here to do business." He shoots both my arms without hesitation. I scream in pain. I'm sure someone in the tavern would've heard it, but the bandit in front of me is already a step ahead. He points to his companion and orders him. "You, make sure no one heard it." His accomplice nods and leaves. These people are no laughing matter, they are dangerous and they know what they're doing.

He grabs my satchel and throws it at the side. He takes a long look at me. "I think I've seen you before." I look at him. "Fuck you," I replied in a pained voice. "Yeah! At Source Town! You're The Messenger!" He says excitedly. "No wonder my client told me to be careful with you. No matter how much someone thinks they have you under wraps, you always have something else under ya sleeve. I guess you can't pull anything under your sleeve now with those arms."

His face is something I'd compare to a grinning child who thinks he has it all. I'd give him a present if my arms weren't so shot. But still, this isn't the first time this has happened. I look at him dead in the eye. "Whatever your client is giving you, I can give you better." He steps back as if hesitating. "Hmm... Nah. That's exactly what he said you'll say. He told me I could just kill you and take whatever spills out as a bonus."

If his client knows that much, then they must really want me dead. "No! If I die, my items die with me." I bargained. He didn't look like the kind to question that much. "Whatever he told you about me was a lie! I can always give you something better!" He shoots my left arm again. And again, I screamed in response. He looks at me with a bored look. "You must be really predictable to say what he told me you'd say."

This fool's got a good aim and a one-track mind. This is bad.

"Uhh, before I kill you and all. Can I get an autograph or something?" He says as if not understanding the situation. "Die," I told him. "Okay," he replied. He aims his gun at my head, ready to shoot. I closed my eyes at the last second, but there was no bang. I look at him again. He's covered in flames. It seems he hasn't noticed it himself. "What the?" He said, confused. He looks behind him to reveal a girl with red hair and burning hands. She's wearing my coat.

The bandit, ignoring the fact he's on fire, starts shooting the girl. The girl takes the bullets to the chest but doesn't even move an inch. She then sends a roaring flame through her arms, lighting up her surrounding area, burning further the burning man; he collapses into the ground.

The second bandit is confused, he doesn't know if he should run or fight. She makes the decision for him, she grabs the gun he's holding and aims it at her face.

"You call this a weapon?!" She yelled.

The bandit out of fear pulls the trigger. He kept shooting until the magazine was empty. And then silence for a few seconds when it did. "Now it's my turn," she said. She holds his throat, setting him on fire instantly. His body was devoured by the flames. He was trying to escape. He tried pulling her hand off, but it wouldn't budge. He was too scared and confused. He could only scream.

By the time she was done, the snow below them had melted. Her arms were covered in scratches, a mark left by desperation. I could no longer see the man, I could only see the charcoal she was holding. She drops what's left of him and faces me. She's not done. The winter night setting makes her flames look intimidating. I can't get up, my arms won't work. I turn my body and lay on my stomach. My left arm's too damaged, so I use my right. I can only drag myself with my elbow and push myself with my legs. I can feel the dirt below the snow, it hurts but I have no choice. I hear her footsteps on the snow, it's getting closer. I hear the steps getting faster.

She grabs me by the foot and starts dragging me back. I grab the ground with what's left of my working arm, but I only got a handful of snow instead. She lifts me with one hand from the foot, making me hang upside-down. I can see her smile from down here. I threw the snow I grabbed earlier at her face and try to break free, but it's impossible. It's like being nailed to a two-by-four on the ceiling. She wipes the snow off her face and looks down on me. "Don't worry. I'm not gonna kill ya." Then a pause.

An awkward silence.

She lets go of me. My head hits the ground. I try to make sense of the situation, but the impact from the ground is making it difficult. My head is taking it in. I take a glance at her.

She's down on the snow.

I look at her. I try to stand up using my elbow. I can see blood drip below me, but it wasn't mine. She's bleeding. I thought she was bulletproof. I manage to stand up. I take a long look at her. The snow around her is absorbing her blood, leaving a pattern. The night wind is still blowing, and she's covered in blood; she'll definitely die now. I should get out of here quickly.

I walk away, looking for my satchel. I find it starting to get buried in the snow. I brush the snow off and I force my fingers to grab the healing herbs inside it. I crushed the herbs with one hand and applied it to my bullet wounds, it helped with my right arm but my left still refuses to move. Probably because of the damaged muscle and bone. I patch myself up making a temporary bandage with some cloth. The bleeding has stopped and the pain has lessened. I grab my satchel with my one arm and ready to take off.

But first, I need my coat back. I walk back to the collapsed demon. She's definitely dead now, not moving an inch. The blood surrounding her had mixed with the snow and became one. I kneel and begin to remove the coat. What I'm doing might look despicable, but this coat is worth more than it looks, price, and personal value. This is taking longer than it should. Removing a coat on a dead body is hard enough, let alone with one arm.

I push her body over to get it off, only to reveal a larger puddle had already accumulated below her. My coat is drenched, stained by red; purest red I've ever seen, and it was on my favorite coat. I try to ignore it and roll it up. I put it in my bag, ready to go.

I take my first few steps on getting out of here,

but it wasn't long before I was interrupted again. The body I had diagnosed as 'dead' starts coughing. I could see the blood drip from her mouth. She looks pathetic. Suddenly my conscious kicks in, reminded of the times I had to kill an animal because they had something I didn't. Shot dead, laying on the ground, dying, waiting for something to happen. Did they deserve this fate? How am I to say they do? She did say she wasn't going to kill me. I look around. I must be a damn fool.

I drag her body with one arm and take her behind the tavern, into the dark. She's leaving a trail of blood. I lay her body against the wall and cover her with the coat I'm wearing. I'm going to run out of fur at this rate. I sew another set; it's less impressive compared to my previous iterations, my disability is already starting to show its liability. I wear this, what I can only describe as a poorly made rag onto me. I leave a few healing herbs under her coat if she ever wakes up; it's my final farewell gift for saving my life, even if I'm not sure she meant it.

I walk near the front of the tavern at the same time the other bandit comes out. I backed away quickly, back into the dark, he didn't notice. He looks like he's had a couple of drinks. He wobbles away, it seems he's looking for his friends. I notice the blood trail I left dragging her body; I quickly cover it up by kicking snow on top of it.

The bandit hears it and turns around. "Who's there?!" He yelled like a drunkard. He puts his hand on the gun on his hip. He might be drunk, vision blurry, but his engine is still active; he could kill me without even trying. I don't move, hoping he doesn't see the blood. He smiles, "You guys, I can hear you from it here~!" He yells. He walks away from the tavern, continuing the path he was walking earlier. I quickly cover up the blood trail and get out of there. I can only hope the snow made it harder to find his friends.

I walk a few meters ahead, through the storm; I look back just in case. Other than the wind, it was quiet, which was good. I can finally say I'm safe.

The damage on both my arms are too severe, to travel in this state would be suicide. My travel will have to take a detour,

into the local militia. Into Fox Town.