1 Moon

Orik meticulously adjusted the small magnifying glass. The action figure was a limited edition, Red X-Fighter. Unfortunately, an arm broke off during his last "scuffle." He placed the toy's right arm next to it's torso, aligning it perfectly. As his other hand grabbed his glue stick, a loud roar sounded down stairs.

"Orik, come and eat." The voice was stern and unyielding.

"Yes, grandfather." Orik placed his glue stick down as he sighed. "I'm coming." He abruptly stepped out of his room and entered the living room that doubled as a dining room. His grandfather blankly stared at the TV before using his fork to eat a bit of pasta. His grandfather continued to stare at the holographic image silently. It frequently stuttered and static noise would randomly interrupt the news anchors talking points. An old model for sure. But Orik didn't watch much holovision, so he quietly waited for his grandfather's orders.

"Sit." His grandfather commanded.

Orik observed his grandfather's expression as he sat. He would rarely invite him to eat dinner with him. Scars ran across his eyes. His hair was longer than most women. He tied it and let it flow onto his skeleton-like chest. His eyebrows were thick as if drawn with a large brush. His eyes were always lazily open as if there was nothing left in the world mattered to him. His grandfather called him out to eat, but his bowl of soup was cold. Untouched for a long time.

Although they could afford to have lights, his grandfather opted to leave candles around the house. Only Orik had a small light orb he won from a crafting competition. As the candle flames swayed, the holovision continued on the Hero Epics Channel. Orik lifelessly stared at the bouncing lights of the candles before picking up his spoon to eat.

"Two murders occurred last week. It appears a new villain has appeared calling himself…"

The crime section of Hero Epics continued. His grandfather continued to watch without a word. Whenever their Rising Stars segment started, his grandfather would look at him disappointingly. But he always returned a steadfast gaze, causing his grandfather to sigh.

"Russian hero, Red Cyclone has landed in America for the National Heroes Conference!" A beautiful woman appeared. Although most young men would recognize this woman, Orik puzzledly watched fans enshroud her even more than Red Cyclone.

"It will take place before the Rising Stars Tournament, a first time in history!" The beautiful woman continued.

"Rumors are these hero representatives are scouting for future talents. If we look at the current lineup, number one is definitely Lady Satan! Number two…"

Orik drowned out the voices on TV and quietly ate.

Clink

His grandfather picked up his spoon, exhaling a deep breath.

"Are you still practicing your martial arts?" His grandfather dipped his spoon into his bland broth.

"Yes." Orik paused slightly, before continuing to eat. He noticed his broth seemed to golden in color compared to his grandfather.

"Don't lie to me, boy!" He slammed his fist on the table as he stared at his grandson. "You will die like your father with that attitude!"

"He died because he was a clown running around with people out of his league-" The old man flipped the table over. The soup spilled over the cold, hardwood floor. Tension filled the small room. Orik stared into the old man's eyes, unfazed by his grandfather's anger.

"If that's how you feel about your father, get out." His grandfather turned around, showing his heavy shoulders.

"Understood." Orik grabbed his bag and opened the noisy door to leave.

"Wait."

The door stopped before closing completely.

"You are my only grandson. I hope you understand how I feel. I love you as I loved your father. You will not disrespect your father in this home."

"... this is not my home." The door shut, leaving the old man in the dilapidated house without saying another word.

The house remained quiet. He could hear the cicadas and his grandson's fading steps as the rain outside got heavier...

---

A small boy ran through a dark alley. He could barely see his own breath that cold night. He looked over his shoulder frightfully, a big shadow following him closely. He fell into the dirty muck as he lost his footing on the wet ground. He turned around, only to see a pair cold eyes stare back at him.

He didn't expect this boy to be around when he killed his third man to join Olympus. He personally had no issues making a child his fourth victim.

The boy felt chills down his spine before crying loudly. "Leave me alone! I'll tell my sister on you!"

Smack

"Shut up."

Holding his red cheek with his hand, he backed into the wall as if trying to sink into it. The man grabbed the boy by his collar. Looking at the man eye to eye, the boy's body shivered. As the man's fingers turned to sharp blades, he felt his shirt was hot and wet. A salty smell assaulted his nostrils.

"You pissed on me? Don't expect a swift death!" The man felt a force assault him from his side. He let go of the boy stabilizing himself to avoid falling over.

He glared venemously at the newcomer, only to be greeted by a red mask straight off a children's cartoon. The young man lowered his center of gravity, ready to take down his target.

"Y-You're X-Fighter Red!" The boy clenched his fists. "I knew you weren't dead!" He couldn't hold back his tears.

Orik's lips curled. He never thought he'd run into an X-Fighter fan, especially one as young as this. The show was older than his grandfather! He even watched it to the end and wore his mask to honor his inspiration. The man interrupted his thoughts with a contemptuous laugh.

"Don't tell me you plan to fight me with no ability?" The man's entire arm turned into a sharp blade. He swung it at the wall, cutting through it like butter.

Sharp!

Too sharp!

"Trash like you and the boy are holding humanity back!"

"Run!" Orik looked back at the boy with a fleeting smile. 'At least I got to meet a fellow fan before I die.' He quickly focused his attention back on the incoming man dressed in black. He was tall with a black mask. A white sloppy omega decorated the it handsomely. As the man aimed towards his abdomen, he swiftly changed his target to his head!

Orik parried the blow, but half the mask split apart! A trail of blood flowed from his face. "F Strength Passive?" Orik could barely speak those words, he felt a pang through his arm. 'Fracture?' Orik resumed his stance after breaking away from his foe.

"You're pretty good for a powerless brat!" The man spit on the floor. He looked at the young man's desperate eyes looking for an exit. "Think you can escape? I have D Ranked Speed Passive!" The man attacked Orik again, trading more than a few blows, Orik felt his body breaking. He finally couldn't withstand the man's hits anymore and flew back into the alley's walls. He vomited blood on the trash-ridden ground. He held his stomach and coughed uncontrollably.

'Fuck, I think I'm really going to die here.' Orik's thoughts swirled in his hazy mind. He felt his vision darkening. Only the raindrops from the heavy rain registered in his mind.

"A pathetic piece of shit like you thinks they can stop me?" The man licked his sharp fingers. "You evaded me pretty well, but now it's my turn for some fun." He leaped into the sky, the moon dangling behind him. Orik could only hear a heavy thud on his back and cracking noises before his mind shut off.