Prologue

Two figures donning dark green cloaks sped through a poorly lit corridor. The older of the two, a bald and clean-shaven man named Alan Aguilar, called out to his companion.

"Take a right up ahead." 

Nozomu, a towering man in his mid to late twenties with bronze skin and hair like sheep wool, nodded in agreement, and they continued down the dim hallway. Eventually, they ended up in front of a colossal door made of a strange metal unfamiliar to them. The door lacked a traditional lock-and-key mechanism and instead had a circular opening large enough for a hand. 

Nozomu asked Alan, "No knob?" but Alan pushed him aside and approached the mysterious door.

"Of course not. I told you before it's sealed with Dyna," Alan explained as he placed his palm on the circular opening. 

Suddenly, celestial energy swirled from his hand, illuminating the corridor. The metal door flung open, revealing an exquisite display of light before allowing them entry.

Inside the room, a see-through box made of glass floated at the center. Within the glass box sat a mysterious blue prism emitting a calming blue glow. 

"There it is," Alan stated as they gazed upon the prism's shine. 

Suddenly, a frightening red light encased the room, and loud alarms blared throughout the empty chamber.

"Grab it, and let's go!" Alan shouted, but Nozomu was still mesmerized by the beauty of the prism's glow and stood motionless. 

"Admire it on your own time, dumbass!" Alan muttered, pushing Nozomu towards the glass box.

Nozomu quickly grabbed the prism, and they made their escape. As they fled the building, a group of soldiers sporting light and heavy armor emerged behind them. 

"Hey! You there! Halt!" one of the soldiers cried out.

"Here they come," Alan said to Nozomu as they faced the soldiers. 

"I said halt!" the soldier called out again, but his patience was nonexistent. 

The soldier drew his sword, which hauled along the floor, creating friction. The friction from the blade generated an abundance of sparks throughout the corridor.

"Flame Manipulation... Hephaestus Flame Dragon!"

The corridor was enveloped in a sudden surge of heat as the sparks began to glow a bright crimson red. The two men, Nozomu and Alan, were taken aback by the unexpected transformation. The crimson sparks fused, taking on the form of a dragon made of red-hot flames, and it spiraled down the passageway after them.

"We just might die tonight, kid," Alan joked nervously, fully aware of the danger they were now in.

"Speak for yourself, old man," Nozomu replied confidently as he gracefully lifted himself into the air, tossing the stolen prism to Alan. Nozomu then formed a ball of wind in his hand and used it to send Alan hurtling down the corridor.

"Don't waste time on these guys!" Alan shouted back as Nozomu faced the fire dragon hovering in mid-air.

"I'll make this quick... Oxygen Manipulation..." Nozomu whispered to himself as he took a deep breath and clenched his fist.

The fire dragon charged toward Nozomu, but as it approached him, something unusual happened. The dragon began to spiral out of control, becoming thinner and thinner until it vanished entirely, leaving the soldiers gasping for air and collapsing due to the lack of oxygen from Nozomu's counterattack. The stone walls of the corridor were blackened and charred from the flames, and a small air pocket erupted throughout the space.

"He must be at the rendezvous point by now," Nozomu spoke aloud, struggling to catch his breath. He zoomed down the corridor until he reached a slightly ajar door, which he assumed had been left open by Alan. 

Nozomu soared through the door and onto the rooftop of the building, confronting a man named Radcliffe Ironclawe. He stood with considerable height, and his physique radiated strength as he wielded a hefty battle ax.

"Move, and I'll crush his throat," Radcliffe warned Nozomu, who had already drawn his sword. 

Radcliffe had a malicious grin as he revealed his tightened grip around the neck of his new captive, Alan.

"I never took you as a traitor. A weakling, yes, but never one to turn on his people," Radcliffe said, tightening his grip around Alan's neck as Nozomu stood before him.

Alan struggled to catch his breath as his vision blurred and his body went limp. Darkness loomed over him, threatening to engulf him. Just as he thought it was all over, he glimpsed a tranquil blue shine from his pocket. Radcliffe, noticing the glimmer, retrieved the prism from Alan's pocket.

In the nick of time, Nozomu landed gracefully beyond Radcliffe, rescuing Alan from certain doom. Nozomu's swift movements generated a powerful wind vortex that encircled Radcliffe, slicing his body into pieces.

"Are you okay?" Nozomu asked Alan, who felt disoriented from the ordeal.

"I'm fine," Alan replied but noticed a shadowy silhouette looming over them.

"Watch out!"

Alan pushed Nozomu out of harm's way just as Radcliffe's battle ax plunged between them. Nozomu regained his balance and turned to confront Radcliffe.

"Alan, go!"

"Listen to me, kid! I know you're strong, but this isn't a fight you can win at your current level! Radcliffe, I know him personally. He's on another level!" Alan warned, but Nozomu was too preoccupied to hear him.

Nozomu was baffled as to how Radcliffe had survived his attack. Where his body should have been was now just a pile of sand.

"Sand?" Nozomu muttered to himself, but Radcliffe was already preparing for his next attack. With a stomp of his foot, he triggered a miniature earthquake that shook the rooftop, destroying everything in its path.

Nozomu used his power over the wind to send Alan flying to safety. He then created a wind wall to protect himself from the tremors.

Radcliffe charged Nozomu with his battle ax, unleashing an all-out assault. Nozomu, thanks to the wind, maintained a strategic distance from Radcliffe.

Using the same momentum from the wind current, Nozomu drove forward, his sword wrapped in a wind vortex. With his battle ax embedded in the sand, Radcliffe met Nozomu head-on. The clash of weapons produced an explosion of sand and debris.

"I'm surprised... Wasteland scum like yourself shouldn't be able to use Dyna," Radcliffe taunted as the dust settled.

As Nozomu faced his new opponent, Radcliffe, he couldn't help but acknowledge his strength. Even after Nozomu's attacks, Radcliffe seemed to have taken no damage. Upon closer inspection, Nozomu realized that Radcliffe's sand acted as a layer of hardened armor, absorbing most of the impact.

But Radcliffe wasted no time getting back on offense. He constructed a giant battle ax made of sand and jumped into the air. Nozomu quickly realized that he had to act fast to win this battle.

"Sand Manipulation... Gaea Crusher!" Radcliffe cried out as he swung his battle ax constructed of sand.

"Storm Manipulation... Twisting Gale!" Nozomu yelled as he countered with his move, swinging his sword. 

The two attacks collided, and the rooftop, now caught in an updraft, vibrated as a violent twister spewed from the storm clouds, clashing with Radcliffe's battle ax of sand.

Another sandstorm-like explosion echoed across the rooftop, and Nozomu was left wounded. But he wasn't ready to give up yet. He sprang from the cloud of dust and delivered a powerful kick to Radcliffe, attempting to decapitate him with his sword. 

Nozomu created a small cyclone around his blade, but the sword became stuck inside a wall of sand due to Radcliffe's recovery.

Thinking quickly, Nozomu created distance between himself and Radcliffe, leaving himself with his back to the edge of the battle-damaged rooftop.

Radcliffe was high on adrenaline. He knew that Nozomu was on his last legs. 

"This is the most fun I've had in a long time!" Radcliffe yelled into the sky, ready to end the battle. He seized his battle ax from the ground and marched straight toward Nozomu.

"To thank you, I'll kill you in one go!" Radcliffe said to a fatigued Nozomu.

Nozomu's vision blurred as he realized how difficult it was to keep up with Radcliffe. He had exhausted much of his energy in the battle and was infuriated by the thought. The difference in strength between himself and Radcliffe was clear, but Nozomu's selfish pride prepared him for the attack.

As Radcliffe rushed in, Nozomu braced himself. But he had forgotten that Alan had been watching the battle from the sidelines. Alan had made up his mind. He was going to help Nozomu one way or another.

Alan intervened by pushing Nozomu off the edge of the rooftop. As Nozomu fell into the darkness, Alan tossed an object to him. Nozomu recognized it immediately. It was the stolen prism.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Nozomu cried out, but Alan responded with a simple smile.

"Keep fighting, Nozomu," Alan said, encouraging him to keep going despite the odds.

Alan's final words echoed in Nozomu's mind as the deafening sound of Radcliffe's battle ax cleaving through his friend's body reverberated across the rooftop. 

A downpour of rain began, mirroring the anguish of the moment. But in a way, the rain brought a sense of serenity to the chaotic battlefield. Amidst the turmoil, soldiers rushed to the rooftop, weapons ready, only to be met with an eerie silence. 

The battle had come to an abrupt halt with the disappearance of Nozomu.

Radcliffe stood with an expression of victory etched on his face as he strode towards the spot where Nozomu fell. Clutched tightly in his hand was the coveted prism he had taken from Alan, a symbol of his triumph over his enemies. But as he reached into his pocket to retrieve it, his triumphant expression turned to disbelief. 

The prism had crumbled to dust in his grasp.

"A fake," Radcliffe whispered, his frustration palpable. The cunning Alan had outsmarted him yet again.