[Plane: Rostovia, Place: Drill Instructor's Office, Time: 4 years ago]
"Realis, sit."
The drill instructor motioned to a chair before sitting down at his own desk. Realis quickly did as he was told and looked over the instructors desk.
He was surprised to see that it was decorated with some family memorabilia. There was even a picture with an elegant women holding a baby.
'I think she would be called his... wife?' Realis thought. Then he turned to the baby and continued, 'And this is her child?'
Some confusion crossed his mind even if his face didn't show it. He wasn't entirely sure why someone related to the Terikan bloodline would be a 'mother.'
Why would the drill instructor have a wife? Especially when family was just a weakness for other bloodlines to exploit.
It was strange but he knew better than to ask the instructor.
Especially not when his scores were finally going up. He was about to become the next Chosen in his bloodline, and he wasn't going to mess it up.
No, he was going to meet Aerelia again and tell her to kick dirt.
"So," the instructor said, breaking the silence. "Do you know why I called you here today?"
Realis shook his head no before saying, "I'm sorry sir. I do not."
The instructor simply nodded before continuing anyway. "What makes our bloodline so special?"
The question caused Realis' brows to furrow, because the answer was so obvious. It was power, no?
'What else could it be?'
They were raised by power, molded by it. So obviously the answer was
"Power," Realis said, looking directly into the instructor's eyes.
"Maybe," The instructor said before stroking his imaginary beard. About a year ago the higher ups decided that facial hair gave an enemy too many openings. However, even if there was nothing left anymore, old habits died hard.
The instructor lowered his hand from his 'beard' to the desk and then asked, "What is power?"
Realis' eyes lit up at the unexpected question. Wasn't it obvious what power was?
"Having power means that you're the strongest. That nobody can contest you and your rightful place in the world."
"No."
The Instructor's rebuttal was simple and yet final.
"Power is far more simple than that. Those who have power are the ones willing to kill."
"But don't you need strength to kill?" Realis asked. If not, what was the point of his constant training? If all he needed to do in order to obtain power was kill people, why waste every waking hour training?
"It certainly helps," the instructor agreed. "But consider this: the mightiest emperor is sleeping soundly in his bed when an assassin creeps into his room. Who has power here?"
"The... assassin?"
"But isn't the Emperor the strongest?" A soft, mischievous light shone in the Instructor's eyes when he asked that question—the closest thing to a smile he's ever shown.
"I see." Realis nodded his head.
"Now consider this," The instructor said, his voice suddenly low. "The mightiest emperor to have ever existed finds himself in love. He gives this woman everything and yet... she deceives him. In the night, they retired to his chambers for 'love.' In the morning, he is found dead and poisoned."
The door to the office was suddenly sprung open. An instant later somebody threw a boy in. Realis recognized the boy instantly: Ryker.
"Those in power," the instructor said as he stood up. "Kill. Friend or foe, they kill. Whenever a potential weakness is found, they kill it."
He reached into his desk and pulled out a dagger. Ryker was limping, and as Realis realized what was going on he wondered why the idiot wouldn't at least try to run away.
Then he realized the weakling allowed his bones to be broken. He had put himself into a position to be killed.
Someone like that wasn't fit to carry the Terikan bloodline. They weren't fit to fight in the Interdimensional Arena.
"Do you understand me?" The instructor said plainly as he held out the dagger. "You hold loyalty to nothing but our sacred bloodline. You hold no emotion for anything except our bloodline. Whenever our bloodline demands it, you kill our enemies. That's how you obtain power."
"I understand." Realis confirmed before taking the dagger.
...
[Present day]
"Fucking DIE!!!" Realis screamed as he glared at Drakis.
His fingers tightened around his throat, but Drakis was done struggling. It was quite obvious he couldn't reach his dagger.
However, he still had 4 knives left.
Silently taking one of them out of its leather strap, Drakis feigned a look of desperation on his face. Realis' eyes widened with a crazy glint as he saw this 'fear.'
"You understand now, don't ya? Some failure like you should've never—"
Drakis swung his knife directly at Realis' throat, cutting off his tirade instantly. As the knife reached closer and closer to his throat, Drakis' entire world suddenly slowed down.
A soft chill crept on his back as he realized he was about to become a killer. In his mind, his mentor's voice began replaying in his head.
It doesn't matter who you were before your first kill.
It was a split second rush, like skydiving and realizing you need to pull the parachute halfway down. Yet in that split second an eternity passed by.
All that matters is your reaction. Anyone can act the psycho, but only the few, true killers can listen to blood dripping from their weapon, watch the life of another man leave his eyes, and still only think but a single word.
A million doubts intermingled with a million expectations, a perfect storm converging onto a single word:
More.