They covered our heads with a bag and put us into a vehicle. Since we had move up a step to get in, I concluded it was a SUV. Once inside, they tied our hands and feet.
The SUV started up, and we drove through the same streets over and over as our captors tried to disorient us. All the while, I sensed powerful auras around us—surely belonging to other gang members patrolling the city. If I tried to escape, I would have to fight them as well.
But we had to escape before reaching their hideout. I remembered the bodies in the clandestine graves we had found during my years as a Hero: putrefied and butchered, practically unrecognizable. If I didn't do something about it, she and I would end up in one of them. We would never be found—just like the thousands of migrants and other innocent people who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"So, what you say, baby?" one of our captors said to her. "Are you gonna get my dick wet? Or should I ask your boyfriend? Hey, buddy—you gonna lend me your girlfriend for a bit?" That creep asked me next. I didn't answer. "I'm talking to you, asshole!" he shouted and hit me right in the face. I remained silent. "You think you tough, huh? Well, once we get to Alpha, you're fucking done for."
He tried to hit me again, and at that moment I created a shield that covered my head and took the impact. Then I cast a spell forward, and it struck the SUV's engine. It lost control and began to roll over. I created two shields that enveloped both her and me.
As the SUV violently overturned, I gathered a bit of magic in my wrists to snap the rope binding me. Once that was done, I did the same at my ankles to free my feet. With my hands now free, I pulled the bag off my head. Everything around me was floating chaotically—crashing down, then drifting upward again. Weapons, shards of glass, and droplets of blood flew about, while our badly injured captors slammed against the floor over and over until the SUV finally came to a halt. As our captors struggled to get up, I dispelled the shields, removed the bag from her head, freed her hands and feet, and cast a spell that shattered the nearest door.
"Let's go," I said, and we both crawled out of the SUV. There were only three gang members gathered around. I trapped the first two inside a shield. "Run!" I shouted to her, and she ran as fast as she could. I cast a spell at #3—who was on the roof of a nearby building—and fled in the opposite direction.
I ducked into an alley and hid my aura. I was exhausted and breathing heavily. I had used up practically all my magic to create those shields.
Several gang members cornered me. I gathered the little energy I had left and fought bravely against them all until they had no choice but to flee for their lives—or at least, that is what I would like to say, since I don't actually remember what happened next. After finding myself surrounded by them, everything went black. One of them likely cast a spell on me from behind, and I lost consciousness.
How pathetic.
I woke up with a bag over my head, my hands and feet bound, inside another SUV that was shaking constantly as we traveled along a dirt road. My captors were talking among themselves, and I tried not to move so they wouldn't know I had woken up.
At that moment, I wondered why they hadn't killed me, given that I had already destroyed one of their SUV and wounded several of their associates. They probably wanted to, but in the criminal world, death is not an act of punishment, but of mercy.
After a few minutes, I sensed hundreds of quite powerful auras drawing closer. We were on the verge of reaching Ash's hideout, and at that moment, I was too weak to attempt another escape. Besides, I was certain that no matter what I tried, they would easily subdue me, and my torture would be far worse.
I couldn't stop thinking that perhaps that day would end in a clandestine grave—that I would experience firsthand what I had encountered in those countless safe houses, and that my own flesh and blood would end up scattered and fused with the flesh of countless and nameless victims.
I would be just another missing person, but my face would never appear on any poster because there would be no one looking for me.
What an ironic end for the so-called Hero: dying among hundreds of migrants, whose suffering played out right under my nose throughout all my years as a Hero.
I hope Lancel does a better job than I did.
The van then stopped, and my captors shoved me out of it. Afterward, they pulled out the bag from my head.
"Welcome," one of them said to me with a sneer. We were at what appeared to be an old, fenced-in farm, surrounded by vast pastures with several barns visible in the distance. Dozens of SUVs and police cars were unloading captive migrants and taking them away. Several gang members were moving in and out of a barn, carrying heavy-caliber weapons. That place was likely the armory.
We moved forward, and soon I encountered dozens of starving migrants bearing visible signs of torture; they were digging clandestine graves to bury the dozens of black bags piled beside them. The air reeked of dirt and putrefaction—just like at all the other gravesites we had found back when I was brazen enough to call myself a Hero. Sometimes we weren't allowed to dig because we were on private property, so we would insert a very thin rod into the ground where we suspected a clandestine grave lay. The soil in a grave is usually quite soft, so it didn't take long to push the rod down several meters. Then we would pull it out, and if a body was down there, a distinctive, putrid odor would rise from the hole.
That is how we managed to identify hundreds of graves, guided solely by the scent and the anonymous tips that reached us from time to time.
After obtaining the necessary permits, we would return and dig. On several occasions, all that remained of those people were tiny bone fragments—yellowish pebbles you might mistake for any other.
"Come on, you piece of shit. Get up," someone shouted, yanking me by my clothes and snapping me back to reality. At that moment, I was on my knees with my hands resting on the ground. My face was turned downward, and fresh vomit was dripping from my mouth.
That smell of death made me sick.
I stood up and looked at the bags the migrants were burying. At that moment, I remembered the people who wore images of the loved ones they were searching for around their necks.
"Maybe one of them is in there," I thought, and I couldn't help but feel enough rage to send a surge of magic coursing through my entire body.
"Calm the fuck down, you asshole!" one of my captors shouted at me, and I immediately suppressed my aura. Then he yanked me up by my clothes, and I stood there. "Pull that shit again and we'll fucking kill you," he threatened, while I simply kept my head down.
We pressed on and approached the armory; there, I could see that the vast majority of the gang members transporting weapons were children and adolescents whom the cowards from Ash had recruited—either with false promises of easy money or by abducting them and threatening to murder their families if they didn't join the gang.
Fortunately, on this occasion, I managed to suppress my anger.
We press on, and I increasingly sense—drawing ever closer—a host of auras far more powerful than the rest, with one of them standing out above all others.
He was surely the leader, and he was as powerful as Dark.
We entered a house, and my captors brought me before him—Alpha. I had heard plenty of stories about him, about his cruelty, but since his territory lay outside my jurisdiction, I had never seen him.
He was sitting at a table with the men who were surely his right-hand men; he was a man in his early thirties, with dark skin and various tattoos on his arms and bare chest, as he was not wearing a shirt. Honestly, he was no different from the migrants he captured or the civilians in Hopeless whom he extorted and terrorized.
But that didn't stop him from being so cruel to all of them.
"Now, *he* really can use magic," he looked at me and smiled.
"But I sure as hell kicked his ass," said one of my captors.
Alpha approached me, gathered a significant amount of magic in his fist, and struck me with incredible speed and force. I barely managed to create a shield around myself, but he shattered it and hit me so hard that I was sent flying backward, smashing through the room's wall. I ended up lying in a hallway, vomiting blood.
"Look: he actually survived," he said calmly, then proceeded to hit—with equal force—the very captor who had boasted of being stronger than me. That man didn't fare as well; his body and blood ended up splattered right beside me. "But you... well..." He stepped closer and offered me his hand to help me get back up, smiling. Since there was no way I could defeat him in a fight, I took it and, with his help, got to my feet. "Hey," he said, draping his arm around me, "why don't you join us? It seems we now have an empty spot," he pointed to the remains of the man he'd just killed. "But you can't just join us like that. There's a protocol. Come on."
He took me to a nearby barn. He didn't let go of me at any point, and his right-hand men were close behind us.
The first thing I saw upon entering was a long corridor filled with men, women, and children in small cages made of chicken wire. They could barely move. Several of them were lying on the ground, looking pale and sick. It reeked of feces and urine.
I tried to quell my anger at all times.
At the end of the corridor lay a massive chamber featuring tiered seating along the sides and a circular arena—roughly fifteen meters in diameter—at its center; inside, there were between forty and fifty people. Some of them could wield magic; others appeared physically fit, yet the majority were entirely ordinary people. Alpha then released me, and her right-hand men guided me toward the arena.
"You are going to become part of us, and to do that, you must be reborn like the phoenix," said Alpha, sitting on the side. "But to be reborn, you must first die; you must burn and turn to ash—to nothing. You must leave behind everything they believed and thought, and turn into simple, empty killing machines. So, what you're going to do now is pretty simple: you will kill each other, or I will kill you. The last five survivors may join us."
At first, there was silence and disbelief in the arena. But as the seconds ticked by, people glanced at one another warily, and one of the men capable of using magic prepared a spell. I moved toward him to stop him.
But then someone else attacked a third person, and chaos soon erupted. Most were screaming and trying to flee, but there were several who were attacking them mercilessly. I tried to pull and shove as many people apart as I could, since I didn't have the energy needed to encase them all in shields.
Screams and blood followed almost instantly. Alpha and his people cheered and enjoyed the show. I let my rage surge; my objective was clear: the only way to stop all of it was to defeat Alpha. Gathering all my magic, I stepped out of the arena to confront him. His right-hand men immediately grasped my intent and begin casting spells at me. I shielded myself and pressed forward, but they positioned themselves in my path, attacking with both physical blows and magic. Some strikes hit the shield with such force they nearly shattered it, so I kept my distance and dodged most of the spells cast my way.
Although this prevented me from getting closer to Alpha.
"Get away!" I shouted at them, but they kept circling and attacking me relentlessly. I dispelled my shield to save magic and dodged almost all their attacks. Suddenly, one of them managed to grab me by the shoulder and prepared to hit me. I blasted a spell into his face to stun him and took him hostage. "Back off, or I'll…!" Before I could finish my empty threat, one of the right-hand men cast a spell at my hostage and killed him.
I let go, and before I could do anything, the Right Hands—five of them in total—surrounded me. The two facing me—#1 and #2—cast spells at me; I conjured small, weak shields, but positioned them precisely to deflect the spells just enough so that they ended up striking two of the Right Hands standing behind me—#3 and #4.
I glanced at the arena and noticed that some people had already died, while the others were still fighting among themselves.
That distraction, however, allowed the other right-hand man—#5—to strike me in the back with one of his spells. I created several small, bubble-shaped shields around myself to deflect the spells, but #2 began casting his in such a way that the shields deflected them back toward me, and #3 fired a spell so powerful that my shields exploded on contact and failed to deflect it.
I barely managed to dodge those spells, but #4 seized the moment and struck me in the chest with one of his own. I felt my skin burning, but that didn't matter at the time, for I looked at the arena and saw more dead bodies.
The other gang members cheered in the stands while this tragedy unfolded.
Alpha was ecstatic and cast spells at those attempting to flee.
But before I could try to stop him, #1 appeared in front of me and tried to hit me. I barely managed to dodge him. #2 appeared as well. #4 tried to paralyze me with a spell. I backed away and tried to circle around them to reach Alpha, but #3 grabbed me from behind and #5 appeared to hit me.
I tried to create a shield, but #3 was absorbing my magic, so I took the full force of #5's blow.
And the next one.
And the next one.
Meanwhile, more people were dying, and I couldn't do a thing because those bastards kept clinging to me and getting in my way; I unleashed so much rage and magic that #3 let me go, and I hit #5 with all my might to make him leave me alone. I sent him flying, and #1 and #2 immediately cast several spells at me, which I easily dodged.
But #4 also cast several spells at me from behind, and I noticed them just before they hit. I created a shield that managed to protect me. #1 and #2 immediately arrived and struck the shield with all their might, nearly shattering it. Before they could hit again, I dispelled it, formed a shield over my fist, and threw a punch at #2; however, just before impact, I created tiny shields around his face. They exploded upon contact with such force that they also destroyed the shield covering my fist, leaving it bloodied and battered. Yet, at that moment, I felt no pain—especially not when #3 reappeared and attacked me alongside #1.
I stepped back a bit, enclosed them in a shield large enough for both of them, and cast a spell so powerful that the shield exploded.
I then headed toward Alpha, who was still shouting and casting spells at the people trying to flee. But #2, #4, and #5 surrounded me and unleashed spells from every direction. I dodged them, and #1 appeared right in front of me. Before he could hit me, I conjured a shield onto his shoulder, immobilizing it and—consequently—preventing him from moving his arm. He then gathered a significant amount of magic in his other arm, but just before he could unleash it at me, I trapped him in a bubble that exploded almost instantly.
#2, #4, and #5 kept casting spells at me, and I began deflecting them in such a way that a spell cast by #2 would end up hitting #4, and so on.
Inside the arena, most of them were dead. And before I could even think about advancing toward Alpha, #3 appeared in front of me to stop me.
At that point, I was acting purely on instinct rather than thinking through my actions, so, before he could attack me, I stepped close, placed my hand over his face, and created a shield inside his throat. He quickly began to suffocate. However, #5 immediately cast a spell to make the bubble explode and inflict damage on me—even if it meant killing his own comrade.
Then #2 appeared behind me and tried to attack me from the back. I stopped him, covered my fists with shields, and began striking him over and over. His blood quickly covered my shields.
But suddenly, someone cast an extremely powerful spell at me, and I barely managed to dodge it in time. Yes, it was Alpha. But he was accompanied by five other quite powerful gang members, and they all attacked me together. The worst part was that #1, #4, and #5 joined in with them.
The shields I created to protect myself would quickly shatter under the barrage of spells hitting them. Whenever I tried to dodge them, one would always manage to strike me. Everywhere I looked a spell, a fist, or even a knife was closing in. I couldn't defend against them all; I could also only watch as more and more innocents died. I was powerless against the onslaught—no matter how much magic I unleashed or how many gang members I struck down, there were always so many more surrounding me that I could barely breathe. The death toll kept rising, and fewer people remained standing in the arena; most were fighting one another, while only a handful tried to flee.
And that was when I saw her in there. Despite everything she had done, they had captured her and brought her here. A man was dragging her by the hair and beating her; she was screaming and trying to cover her face, while he kept striking her again and again. But I was surrounded by so many enemies that I couldn't do anything; no matter how hard I tried to dodge them or distract them with spells and shields, there was always someone stopping me from coming to her aid. No matter how hard I struggled, there was always someone in the way.
Then it happened. It is hard to explain, but I felt such rage—such magic—surging within me that I found it impossible to suppress. It simply enveloped my body, as if setting it ablaze, though I felt no pain. I radiated an aura far more powerful than the one I had possessed when wielding the power of friendship. Perhaps not quite on par with Dark's aura when he transformed, but it was still a truly monstrous power. At that moment, practically every Ash member realized the threat I posed and began attacking me with bullets and spells, yet all of them disintegrated before they could even reach my body.
I looked down, saw my body burning, and thought only that if I was going to die that day, at least I would take all of Ash with me.
I turned toward the arena and saw that the man was still striking her. In a split second, I was right there in front of him, and with the mere touch of my fingers, he was sent flying and slammed against the wall. I certainly killed him.
Then I scanned the area for Alpha and saw him fleeing down the hallway where so many people were locked up. He was running in a panic at full speed. I didn't even think about teleporting; suddenly, I was right in front of him. My hand moved toward him so fast that I couldn't even see it. Before I knew it, I had already pierced his chest. Blood gushed out in torrents, and he stopped moving.
At that moment, I only regretted that he had died so quickly.
While I was there, I destroyed the cages with a simple spell and returned to the arena. The right-hand men tried to flee the moment they saw me, but I killed them all before they could. A simple spell was enough to disintegrate them completely, and a single push tore them apart.
And so, I went on killing every gang member I saw. Afterward, I left that place and continued with my work. First, I cast a spell on the armory; it exploded with such force that several cars were sent flying through the air, and nearby barns and houses were left badly damaged. The pickup trucks and police cars that hadn't been overturned or damaged were trying to flee at full speed.
But they were too slow for me; I would immediately catch up to them and destroy them.
I'd like to say that I only killed the gang members at that farm, but there's no way to be sure, especially since my memories of that day are hazy.
No matter how one might wish to portray what happened that day, the truth is that it was a massacre.
I murdered so many people that I lost count.