The sky tore open. The ground melted. Everything around me collapsed into pure chaos. People were ripped apart, the planet itself shattering beneath our feet. The Government of Worlds was supposed to protect us… not annihilate us.
But out of everyone dying that day, I was the only one who knew the truth. They weren't here for outlaws. They weren't here for fugitives.
They were here for me.
Because I carry something they tried—and failed—to erase over and over again.
And I'm still standing.
Because I belong to the race they tried to delete."
2 days beforehand
Planet 3 has always been fun no matter where you go. There's always something to do, always someone to be with. Friends, family — everything a kid should need.
But even with my whole family around me, one person was always missing: my uncle.
Uncle Jay.
He always said he was "busy with work," but I'd never once seen him actually go. So one day, I woke up early and went to his house to see what this so‑called "work" really was.
When I got there, he wasn't home. I figured he went to get food or something. So, being a curious kid, I snooped around looking for proof he didn't have a real job. I searched for hours, but found nothing except food.
Then I found a door.
As a dumb, curious 13‑year‑old, of course I stepped inside.
I should've never done that.
I still don't understand what I saw in that room. Even now I don't have the words for it. Disgusting… horrifying… things no kid should ever see.
Before I could even scream, the roof collapsed on top of me. Two men walked toward me, but I was too shocked to process anything.
Then, out of nowhere, my great uncle burst in like some kind of K9, grabbed me, and yanked me out of the debris.
"What the hell are you doing, kid?!" he shouted.
"I was looking for you until th—"
My eyes widened as the two men came chasing right after us. My uncle ran faster than a train, but—
A gunshot tore through his chest, almost hitting me.
He kept running, but blood poured from him faster than his steps.
"Riven… I'm not gonna make it. Whatever happens, don't let them ca—"
Another shot.
This time through his skull.
We crashed to the ground like a falling sun.
I somehow managed to stand, shaking, barely alive. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think.
Before I could even take another breath, the two men grabbed me. I fought, but one punch to the face sent me into darkness.
As I drifted away, I heard them talking:
"So what's his name again?"
"Something like Riven Kaoru, I think."
"Two of the Seven K's caught him?"
"That's what I heard."
"He must've done something real bad then! Hahaha!"
Their voices dripped with cruelty.
My eyes shot open, but they were already gone. I tried to stand, but realized I was chained. Weak. Malnourished. Barely conscious.
But even then… I didn't stop.
I kept trying.
And trying.
And trying.
The chains dug into his wrists, cutting into his skin, but he barely noticed. Fury burned hotter than pain, hotter than fear. His chest heaved, and with each heartbeat, the sound echoed—low, deep, reverberating through the silent camp like a drum announcing something ancient. The air itself seemed to shiver in response.
Shadows began to twist and coil around him, responding to the rhythm of his pulse. Darkness and light danced across the ground—flickers of black and faint hints of gold—hinting at something not fully his own. His eyes burned, pupils widening, irises glowing faintly with a split light: one side sharp, amber like fire; the other soft, luminescent, almost serene. Even in fury, there was a duality—an angel and a devil fighting for dominance in his gaze.
The chains strained against his strength, then snapped, flying apart as the energy inside him erupted. The camp trembled; walls cracked, dust filled the air, and the echoes of his heartbeat became thunder, a rhythm that seemed to consume the space around him.
He fell to his knees, exhausted, chest pounding, eyes still blazing with that strange duality. Everything lay in ruin, and silence descended over the destruction like a curtain.
When he finally lifted his head, a figure stood before him. Calm. Dark. A man whose aura seemed almost alive, flowing like ink on water, yet oddly serene as he tended to a simple patch of scorched earth.
"This," the man said, voice quiet yet resonant, "is your domain now. What you have awakened… it can save, or it can destroy. It can erase dreams, or it can grant them. That power lives within you—and it will shape everything you touch."
The boy's heartbeat continued to echo in his ears, but now it carried a weight beyond fury—a mix of potential, danger, and inevitability. The split fire and light in his eyes flickered once more, hinting at the dual path he would soon have to choose.
The moment the chains fell away, Riven didn't run. He stumbled, his chest still echoing with the rhythm of that strange fusion, the pulse of something ancient coursing through his veins.
Every movement was awkward, every breath heavy, but he could feel it — the energy inside him responding to his heartbeat, flickering in his chest like fire caught in water. Shadows twisted around him, obeying the thrum of his pulse. He lifted a hand, and the air before him warped, ripples spreading like a stone thrown in a pond. A small gust of wind lifted debris; a faint tremor shook the ground.
"This… this is mine?" he whispered, testing the power. His fingers clenched, and the ground cracked slightly. Not much, but enough to feel alive.
He tried again. A bigger pulse, and a stone flew into the air. He barely controlled it. His heart raced. Every attempt left him drained, but he was learning — learning to listen to the rhythm of the power inside.
Eventually, he reached the edge of the camp. Outside, the world waited — harsh, wide, merciless — and for the first time, he felt… hope
He hadn't gone far before the sky darkened unnaturally. A shadow detached itself from the horizon. Towering, imposing, the aura of K3, the Menace, rolled over the landscape like a storm. The air itself seemed to groan under his presence.
"You… this little runt," K3 said, voice like grinding stone. "Thought you could run?"
Riven tried to move, but the first blow sent him sprawling into the scorched earth. Pain lanced through his body, bones rattling like fragile twigs. Every strike from K3 was measured, precise, punishing — a lesson in how powerless he truly was. He scrambled, tried to fight back, but every attempt was met with more pain. Blood, bruises, fractures — every hit left him weaker, humbling him.
Still… he refused to give up.
He rose again. And again. Each attempt fed his inner CHAOS. Every heartbeat, every ragged breath, fed the power lingering in his chest.
Then, instinctively, he unleashed it.
The ground erupted. Rocks shattered, air ignited, and the planet itself seemed to tremble. Mountains split. Oceans boiled. Cities, forests — everything exploded outward into the void. Chunks of the planet floated like islands in a storm of chaos.
K3 froze. For a heartbeat, he hadn't expected such raw force from a child. Then he saw it — the soul within Riven, flickering, burning, alive.
But K3 didn't strike again. Not yet. Using Oni, he traced the energy, saw the pulse of life within the chaos, and… let it go.
"Children," he murmured, almost kindly in a terrifying way. "Who kills children? That isn't justice" he claimed whilst walking away laughing.
In a blur, someone grabbed Riven — an ally, or perhaps another force within the chaos — and pulled him from the wreckage. They vanished into the void between floating debris.
K3 watched them go, calm. He could see their souls anywhere, anytime, but for now… he let them live.