Chapter Ten: Shadows of the Delta
The twin suns of Arcacia bore down mercilessly as Issac and Janai stepped into the open streets. Heat shimmered against the dust and sand, their path riddled with muddy potholes that told stories of neglect. The Gamma District was alive with noise—an orchestra of desperation. Vulcanizers hammered at bent wheels, blacksmiths struck sparks into the dry air, merchants shouted promises they could not keep. Every sound spoke of survival, not prosperity.
It was a far cry from the structured streets of Atlas. Here, chaos was the law. Barefoot children sprinted past in frayed clothes, their laughter laced with coughs, their runny noses glistening under the suns. And always, from the shadows of alleys and the corners of broken stalls, eyes followed—piercing, measuring, distrusting.
Issac felt them. His shoulders tightened, his gaze restless, a caged animal instinct surfacing. Janai noticed, a smirk tugging at his lips. He nudged Issac.
"Hey… you scared?" he teased.
Issac's eyes flicked from shadow to shadow before landing on him. A dry chuckle escaped his throat. "Not one bit. Where I'm from, I've seen worse things than this."
"Worse than Gamma?" Janai laughed, shifting the sack of bread more comfortably across his back. His curiosity soon outweighed his amusement. "Tell me something. You said you're an outsider. But… where I'm from, we're taught that outsiders are monsters—scavengers who burn and ravage the land. That's what they tell us, anyway."
Issac faltered. His breath hitched. "Outsiders… monsters?" The words tasted bitter. A rush of memory clawed at him—Klaus, Idris, his mother's broken voice, his grandfather's final gaze, the ruin of Atlas. His hands curled into fists before he forced them open.
Janai watched closely. Even as a boy, he recognized pain when it stood beside him. He's not lying, he thought. He's lived through fire and ash. Through horrors Arcacia never dares to admit.
To break the silence, Janai nudged again. "So… what do you think of Emma? She's pretty, right?"
Issac's lips curved faintly. "She is pretty. Can't deny that. But…" His eyes narrowed. "She's hiding something."
Janai barked a laugh. "That's just Emma."
Before Issac could reply, a frail figure collided into him. An old woman stumbled, her basket of apples scattering across the dirt. She wore a faded cream dress and a red scarf tied tightly over her hair. Her walking stick clattered as she fell.
Issac rushed to her side. "I'm so sorry, grandmother—I wasn't watching!" He lifted her gently, brushed the dust from her dress, then dropped to gather the apples one by one.
When he looked up, Janai was still. Arms folded, expression cold, he offered no hand. Issac frowned at the indifference but said nothing, returning the last apple to the basket.
The old woman's hand rose, trembling, to cup Issac's cheek. Her smile was thin, yet genuine. "Thank you, young man. What's your name?"
"I'm Issac," he said softly.
"Issac." She repeated it as if savoring the sound. "You remind me of my grandson." She pressed a bright apple into his palm. "Take it. Few kind souls remain in Arcacia. Don't refuse—it's a gift."
The market went silent. Dozens of eyes lingered on the scene. Janai's throat tightened, his body taut with unease.
When Issac rejoined him, he asked, "Why didn't you help her?"
Janai's reply was sharp. "Because this is Arcacia. And now, thanks to you, we're in trouble."
Issac frowned, baffled. "Trouble? All I did was help her."
"That's the problem," Janai muttered. "No one helps anyone here. Kindness is weakness. And weakness gets you killed."
Issac's silence said more than words. He could not yet grasp a land where compassion was a crime.
The streets thinned as they pressed on. Soon, the Gamma District gave way to the Delta Zone. And there, despair ruled absolutely.
The air grew heavy, almost suffocating. Shadows clung to crumbling buildings. Malnourished figures lay scattered on the roads, too weak to rise, too numb to beg. Some were sick, others already gone. Flies swarmed thick, rats scurried through heaps of rot, and the stench—raw, acrid, gut-wrenching—rose in choking waves. Even the sky seemed darker here, as though the suns themselves recoiled.
Janai swallowed hard. His voice was hushed, unsteady. "This… this is Delta."
Issac doubled over, gagging. His stomach twisted, his hand clamped over his mouth. "What… what is that stench?" His body convulsed violently.
Janai dropped beside him. "You'll get used to it. But we need to leave before—"
The scrape of metal cut him off.
From the alleys, shadows stirred. Figures stepped forward—seven men, bodies grotesquely warped, limbs stretched in unnatural proportions. Their presence sucked the warmth from the air.
Issac forced himself upright, wiping bile from his lips. "We don't want trouble. We're just here to deliver—"
The first blow came before he could finish. A fist like iron struck his face, hurling him backwards across the dirt.
"The usual boy isn't here," a deep voice growled. "Who's the new one? A guard?" Laughter erupted from the others, guttural and cruel, circling Janai like predators.
Fear gripped him. This is what I was afraid of. If Bryan or Ed were here, this wouldn't be happening.
Still, he clenched his fists. Sparks crackled across his skin, electricity dancing wild.
One of the creatures sneered. "You think sparks can stop us? We wield the Elemental Laws—power far beyond your little tricks!" His arm lifted, metal twisting into a colossal hammer that descended toward Janai.
Too fast. Too heavy.
But the strike never landed.
Issac blurred forward, his arm catching the hammer's head mid-swing. The ground quaked beneath the impact—but Issac stood unmoved.
Janai froze. His friend looked transformed. Issac's dreadlocks floated upward as though gravity itself had forsaken him. His pupils blazed with white light. A radiant aura spilled from his skin, bending the air, a force both alien and divine.
The warped men faltered. They had seen Elemental Law before, but nothing like this. Nothing that broke its rules.
When Issac spoke, his voice was deeper, layered with something that was not entirely human.
"This is your only warning. We don't want trouble. But if you stand in our way… you will regret it."