Chapter 1
Cylix understood from a young age that he wouldn’t live long. In the cesspool of the planet he was born on, the average life expectancy was 20. If the creature roaming outside of his people’s barebones settlements didn’t snuff him out, the gangs inside would. Even if he somehow managed to survive those hurdles, his diseased body had long condemned him.
His sickness was the remnants of a rare genetic defect. In the past, natives of Husk would develop cells that would randomly burst as a result of drinking Husk’s unfiltered mutagenic water. When gene-editing technology was found, technicians were able to mostly remove the disease.
“Yet I somehow managed to contract it despite the odds being so low, “Clylix said self-deprecatingly. He was currently inside one of the small bunkers around the wilderness of his town. Scavengers like him had to be careful of the large dune snakes that roamed the sands, and the bunkers were built with whatever technology was left to provide temporary safe-havens.
His planet was a relic of an ancient civilization that collapsed thousands of years ago. They could only survive by occasionally discovering lost technology and forming tribes.
Due to his weak body, Cylix wasn’t allowed to venture far from his settlement. He was only given the relatively safe yet mundane job of gathering some of the fauna that was on the outskirts of the village.
Ventures outside of the village required special hunting suits for protection. Clyix liked to imagine the hooded armor concealed his fear of the various creatures lurking beneath the sands.
The fauna were called duskpoppies, and they hid in the sands during the day. When dusk comes, they sprout out in a cluster. A keen eye was necessary to spot their camouflaged roots. He collected them slowly to avoid agitating his body.
Just as he finished shoving the last of them into his sack, he noticed that a man was suddenly sitting a few meters in front of him. Recalling that he hadn’t noticed any footsteps, chills went down Cylix’s spine.
The man was dressed in the strangest clothing Cylix had ever seen. He wore bright yellow pants, a pink shirt, and had no footwear. His hair was dark orange and his eyes were yellow. His skin was fair, too fair. While his height wasn’t large, he had a certain presence that drew Clylix’s wariness. In total, the man’s appearance was very peculiar compared to the tanned and black-haired denizens of Husk. Cylix quickly focused on a bigger abnormality: somehow the man seemed to be fine without a suit.
‘Why is he able to withstand the elements without a hunting suit? The heat of the sand he is sitting on alone should be enough to boil his skin. ’ Planet Husk was known for its high temperatures and acidic air. Without specially-designed suits, no human should be able to survive for long periods of time outdoors. Yet, the contradiction of this logic was right in front of him. Clyix took a few steps back, out of caution, and discreetly readied his standard-issue combat knife behind his sack.
The man stared at Cylix’s visor-covered face before posing a question. “For someone with such high disruption proficiency, you should have long been able to rid yourself of that disease. Have you not awakened your Flow?”
“Flow?” Cylix asked, confused. He wondered if the heat of the suns above them affected the man’s brain instead of his skin. That would explain the atrocity of his hair.
“Hmm... I could explain it to you, but from experience, it would be better to show you.” The strangely dressed men got up. As he took a few steps forward Cylix brandished his knife.
“Stay right where you are. I don’t know who you are supposed to be, but you don’t seem to be a native. Leave before I have to attack you, ” Clyix ordered.
The man rolled his eyes. “Child, if I wanted to, I could rip that paltry excuse of technology you’re wearing apart like confetti. Wait, do you know what confetti is? I always forget the denizens of backwater planets won’t know stuff like that. ”
Clyix had enough of the man’s rambling and jabbed his knife in his direction as a warning. If the man still didn’t get the hint, he would just have to beat him up. Sickness or not, he could still defeat a man not wearing a hunting suit.
However, before his combat knife could even approach the man, he disappeared before his eyes. Cylix was confused before feeling immense pain in his chest. Crimson liquid flew before his eyes.
Blood.
His blood.
Instinctively, he looked down only to see his own exposed ribs staring back at him. A long, bloody gash was etched in both flesh and metal.
The man once appeared in front of Cylix. In his hands was a piece of his Cylix’s chest piece in a bloody hand. “Your ability must be quite strong to passively negate one of the effects of my own. I’m sure when you properly awaken your Flow you’ll become quite the little monster. Remember this, Flow is both direction and life. You better figure it out quickly since, even with your natural talent, roughly 15 minutes is your limit in this environment. ”
Clylix couldn’t believe this madman. He gave him nonsensical advice after fatally wounding him right before that. As he fell to his knees due to the poisonous air that invaded his suit and the immense pain, a question burned at his lips. “Why?”
“Because someone worse than me would have killed you otherwise.” The man said, while somehow sounding sympathetic. “From the beating of a cicada’s wings to the passage of time, all are governed by a force. Adept Pathseekers can sense ripples in that force and allow it to guide them to others of our kind. ”
By now, Clylix had already collapsed completely. His limbs wouldn’t respond, and the sand below him was burning his skin. His mind realized that he was entering into shock. Worse, he could feel the blazing hot sand entering his wound. “I wanted to die... full for once,” Cylix reflected, possibly for the last time.
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Volume One: Scorched Beginnings
