Sons of Heaven

The morning mist clung to the surface of the sea, shrouding the the wu village in a soft silvery haze. The village was quiet at dawn, the silence broken only by the rhythmic lapping of waves against the rocks and the occasional creaking of wooden boats swaying from the tide, Xing Wuye loved this moments, when the world still seemed to belong to the sea, and the rest of the village hadn't stirred.

Xing Wuye was an unassuming figure, a boy of sixteen with an appearance as ordinary as the fishing boats that lined the shore. His long, straight black hair fell just past his shoulders, often tied loosely behind his neck to keep it from blowing in his face while he worked. His complexion was sun-kissed from long hours spent under the coastal sun, neither too pale nor too dark, and his features were soft but marked with the subtle wear of village life. Wuye's appearance might have been easily forgotten by a stranger, but there was a quiet resilience about him, a sense of someone who belonged to the sea and the rhythms of the village life, yet carried within him a quiet longing for something more.

He stood at the water's edge, bare feet sinking into the cool, damp sand. His father's old fishing net was slung over his shoulder, a morning ritual that had become his own since his father's passing the previous spring. Wuye wasn't the most talented fisherman, but he was learning. It was his duty now, as the eldest son, to care for his mother and younger siblings.

"Catch some for me, Wuye?" A familiar voice broke his thoughts. It was Mei, the village elder's granddaughter, who always seemed to appear at the most random times.

Wuye turned, offering a small smile. "I'll try, but no promises."

Mei grinned, her eyes bright with mischief. "I trust you. The sea listens to you, Wuye. You've got a way with it."

Wuye shook his head, glancing out at the horizon where the fog was starting to lift. "I think it's just pitying me."

Their laughter faded into the morning air as the village began to stir behind them, the sounds of life waking up as doors creaked open and voices murmured greetings. The elders gathered near the large stone that had always been a part of the village's history, speaking in low voices about the weather, the tides, and the coming season.

Yet something in the air felt different that morning, like an unease had settled into the village, unnoticed by all but the sea itself. Wuye had felt it for days—a strange heaviness in the wind, the distant cries of gulls more frantic than usual. He tried to brush it off as a trick of his imagination, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him, but it lingered nonetheless.

As the sun climbed higher, casting a pale light across the water, Wuye set out in his boat, paddling through the gentle waves. The world outside the village was a quiet, open space, and here he felt like he could breathe. With each stroke, the strange tension seemed to ease, the quiet comfort of the sea soothing his mind. The fish were plentiful today, darting in the shallow waters. Wuye cast his net, focusing on the familiar task.

As the sun climbed higher, casting a pale light across the water, Wuye set out in his boat, paddling through the gentle waves. The world outside the village was a quiet, open space, and here he felt like he could breathe. With each stroke, the strange tension seemed to ease, the quiet comfort of the sea soothing his mind. The fish were plentiful today, darting in the shallow waters. Wuye cast his net, focusing on the familiar task.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Wuye couldn't explain it, but something was coming. Something terrible.

He turned the boat around, paddling back toward the village as fast as he could. His heart pounded in his chest, though he still didn't understand why. The sea seemed to sense it too, the once calm waters churning beneath his boat.

As Wu Village came into view, Wuye could see the villagers were starting to gather at the shore, their faces turned upward in confusion. The air was thick with tension, as though the very sky had come down to press upon them. And then, like a ripple through the crowd, a gasp spread.

There was a figure in the sky. At first, it seemed like nothing more than a shadow, an illusion of the clouds. But then it became clearer, a glowing, ethereal form, gliding above the village. The figure was moving fast, as if fleeing from something.

A black ethereal figure moving quickly like a shooting star that absorbs light

Wuye had heard stories of wandering spirits, souls who were chased from their very own bodies, seeking refuge. But this one—there was something else. Something darker. The spirit looked desperate, its light flickering like a dying flame. And behind it, another form appeared—a pursuer.

The second figure was larger, darker, cloaked in shadows that seemed to twist and writhe around it. As it chased the spirit, the very air grew colder, the wind howling through the village as if it had a life of its own.

A voiced suddenly boomed from the pursuer spreading like rolling thunder "old man hand over your life."

Wuye felt a cold wave of fear wash over him. The villagers were panicking now, running for shelter, shouting to one another. The elder's voice rang out, trying to calm them, but it was no use. The shadow figure, the pursuer, had descended upon them.

Without warning, a blast of dark energy erupted from the figure, crashing into the center of the village. Houses crumbled, their wooden beams splintering like brittle twigs. The sea surged forward, as if recoiling from the unnatural force, but even the waters couldn't protect them.

Wuye stumbled, falling into the sand as the wave of destruction rippled through the village. Screams filled the air as the villagers ran, but there was nowhere to go. The shadowy figure was relentless, tearing through the village as if it were hunting something—someone.

Through the chaos, Wuye's eyes caught sight of the spirit again, now much closer. It was weak, fading, but still fleeing. And as the pursuer destroyed everything in its path, Wuye knew one thing with terrible clarity.

Whatever this spirit was, whatever had brought it here, was the reason for his village's ruin.

And he was powerless to stop it.

The last thing Wuye saw before the darkness consumed him was the spirit passing overhead, and the shadow following close behind, tearing apart the only home he had ever known.