Darkbound

I walked slowly, letting my feet guide me along the same path I had taken every day for almost four years. My shirt was wrinkled, my backpack hung heavily from my shoulders, and yet I looked like any other student leaving high school.

I suppose that was exactly what I was, after all. I had never had a talent or a particular calling. I had never been drawn to that one thing people seemed to discover and become passionate about for the rest of their lives.

It was my final year of high school, and I was more stressed than ever. At night, I dreamed about the day I would finally have to take my final exams.

I was only pulled out of my daydream when I stepped through the gate and was greeted by barking.

“I'm home, I'm home.”

They came running toward me and nearly knocked me off balance. I bent down to pet them, and one of them pushed its snout underneath my palm.

“I missed you too, but that's enough now.”

When I looked up at the house, I heard my father's voice.

And another one.

I stopped.

My brother.

I hadn't known he was back home.

I stepped inside and tossed my backpack onto the first chair I saw.

Dad and my brother were sitting at the table.

The symbol on my brother's wrist was impossible to miss. It glowed brightly against his skin, a mark I recognized immediately.

The mark of his faction.

“Look who decided to come home,” Dad said.

My brother turned toward me and scrunched up his nose.

“Look how big you've gotten!”

I raised an eyebrow.

“It’s been a month, idiot.”

“In that case, you should probably go easy on the sweets, huh?”

I snorted and said nothing. He was always teasing me, and I couldn't say I minded.

God, I'd missed him.

Dad watched us with the same smile he always wore whenever he talked about my brother.

He was proud.

Very proud.

Maybe a little too proud.

And I was proud of my brother too. Of course I was. He was my brother.

But I still didn't understand what all the hype was about.

I sat down at the table.

“So, how was the assignment?”

My brother leaned back in his chair.

“It was good. I had to take part in an initiation ceremony for the new followers.”

He paused.

“It was quite an experience.”

I stared at him for a few seconds.

“So... what exactly did you do?”

“They talked to us about the origins of the faction. About what humanity was like before Derek was exiled, and about everything our Titan did for us. We also talked about recruiting new followers and a bunch of other things.”

“I’m more interested in whether you found any cute girls while you were there.”

“Seriously? That's what you're asking me after a whole month?”

Dad laughed from the other end of the table.

“Leave him alone. He had more important things to do.”

“Obviously,” I muttered.

I smiled, but my gaze fell back to the mark on his wrist.

I'd seen it countless times.

It meant a lot to him.

To me, though, I could only say that I didn't understand why it was so important.

I'd never been able to believe in any of it. I'd always been neutral, keeping my mind occupied with other things instead.

For a few seconds, the conversation returned to ordinary things.

Still, something my brother had said stayed with me.

Maybe this was actually my path.

The truth was, I'd always had a tendency toward knowledge, toward finding the truth.

And yet, I'd always been skeptical about all of this.

The conversation ended not long afterward.

I grabbed my backpack and retreated to my room, closing the door behind me.

I tossed my school clothes onto a chair and changed into something more comfortable. Then I sat down at my desk and turned on my laptop.

I had nothing to do.

I opened a game I'd been playing for a while and, for the next hour, almost forgot about the conversation at the table.

Almost.

At some point, without really knowing why, I closed the game.

I opened my browser.

I hesitated for a few seconds before typing.

Titans.

I pressed Enter.

Hundreds of results appeared.

Articles, documentaries, forums, faction websites, images, and texts about human history.

I started with the Titan of my brother's faction.

I read about him for a few minutes.

He was described the same way everywhere: wise, merciful, protective.

The one who had led the others in the fight against Derek.

The one who had sacrificed himself for humanity.

I scrolled down.

The same things, written in different ways.

I moved on to the second.

Then the third.

Each one had its own faction, its own symbols, and its own stories. Some things repeated themselves, but there were differences too.

I stopped.

For a few seconds, my fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Then I typed the name I'd been hearing since I was a child.

Derek.

The results changed immediately.

Old photographs. Drawings. Reconstructions made by artists. Historical articles.

I opened one of the images.

Then another.

None of them seemed to be actual photographs.

Some portrayed him as an almost monstrous creature. Others depicted him as a tall man with dark eyes and a cold expression.

I opened an article.

Derek — The Titan Who Tried to Destroy the Order of the World.

I read the first few lines.

Then a little more.

I frowned slightly.

I didn't know why, but something about it bothered me.

Not because I didn't believe what I was reading.

It was simply... everything seemed too simple.

And yet, at the same time, there were too many contradictions.

One person was good.

Another was evil.

One had sacrificed himself.

The other had been defeated.

I opened a few more pages.

Everywhere, it was the same story.

And yet, none of them explained certain things.

I closed the laptop for a few seconds.

Maybe my brother was right.

Maybe I simply didn't understand.

Or maybe I didn't want to understand.

I opened it again.

This time, I started searching for older information.

And before I realized it, evening had almost arrived.