“Skycutter!” the commander called out, with a thunderous voice that echoed within the room.
There was no movement within the Demon Junior Corps. Just a bunch of young, human-like demons, standing still in a line. Facing forward with faces as cold as icy stone.
With another shout, the commander called, “Skycutter! Step forward!”
One boy, who looked about 13 or 14, amongst the Junior Corps shook his head slightly as if he was in a daze, and stepped forward. The commander walked over to him and studied his features, clearly looking at his white hair with some bit of confusion. As if he never saw it before.
“Skycutter, why is your hair that color?” he questioned promptly.
Skycutter merely shrugged, not saying a word. The commander took obvious offense to his casual gesture.
“I asked you a question boy, don’t think that just because you’re getting promoted that you can slack on formalities to your superiors,” he scolded, with a low growl behind his voice.
“Apologies sir,” Skycutter replied. “I don’t know what happened to my hair, after the incident with my powers it...changed on it’s own.”
The commander look unimpressed. “I see, in any case Skycutter, you’re leaving here soon so pack up your things.”
The boy nodded to his commander and did as he was told, packing up his things in a neat and orderly manner. Yet doing so in a brisk fashion. After a minute or so, he was ready.
The commander motioned for Skycutter to follow him. The pair walked outside, both of them stiff and silent. As they approached a slightly bigger complex not too far from the Junior Corps complex, they both entered. Skycutter looking unmoved, with no expression upon his face.
“This is it Skycutter. This man here,” the commander pointed to another gentleman who appeared in front of them, “will be your new superior. I leave you in his hands.” With those words, the commander left.
Skycutter stood a bit straighter, “Good morning, sir.”
The gentleman chuckled under his breath, “No need for the formalities with me, kid. C’mon, I’ll show you around.”
Skycutter shrugged, and then followed behind him. He looked up at the man. Despite being tall for his age, Skycutter was surprised to see how tall this man was. He was about foot taller than he was.
“Skycutter, was it?” The man asked casually.
Skycutter nodded, “Yeah.”
“I believe your first name was Daryn, do you mind if I call you Daryn?”
Skycutter shrugged, “If you want to.”
The man smiled, “Cool. My name is Rendas. Most call me Ren.”
Ren had gotten Daryn settled into his new home at the Black Ops. The room was quite spacious. But it made sense, considering most cadets never made it to the Black Ops unit. Especially at such a young age.
Each person was given their own room, unlike the Junior Corps complex where everyone had to share rooms with multiple people at once. The Black Ops unit only had 30 individuals, so 30 or more rooms wouldn’t be a problem.
“Tell me about yourself, Daryn. What was your childhood like? Your parents?” Ren had asked him, as they left the room and began walking elsewhere.
Daryn was silent for a few moments, then spoke. “It wasn’t much, nothing of interest. And both of my parents are dead,” he said lowly.
Ren only nodded, “I see. Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”
He began again, “May I asked how you awakened your inner demon at the age of five?”
Daryn simply shrugged, and Ren wasn’t sure if he really didn’t know or just didn’t want to talk about it.
He decided to press on, “You sure you don’t know? It’s a pretty big event in a demon’s life, you know. Finally awakening your true potential within you.”
“We demons aren’t even full demons anymore. With all the mixing with humans, a lot of us aren’t even full-blooded demons. I’m not even a full demon. My dad was, but my mother was half,” Daryn replied.
“So what’s your point?” Ren asked curiously.
“What’s the point in identifying as demons? Glorifying ways of demons before us, when we ourselves aren’t pure demons? It doesn’t make sense to me,” he said calmly.
Ren was silent. Good point, Ren said to himself.
“I suppose we can talk about that later,” Ren said after some time of silence between them. “Anyway, how did you awaken yourself? Was there a trigger, or did it just happen?”
Daryn didn’t say anything for a moment or two, then stopped walking and said, “My mother was trying protect me from some guy. He wanted my mom’s valuables, just some lowlife thug,” he paused.
“He pulled a knife, and my mom struggled against him. My mother was no delicate lady, she was as strong as my father. Even if she didn’t look like it.”
Ren nodded, listening on with clear interest as he looked Daryn in the eye.
“But the other guy, got the upper hand. She told me to run, but I just stood there. And before I knew it, the guy slit her throat…”
Ren wasn’t sure if he should let Daryn continue or tell him to stop, but he remained still.
“I saw that guy, taking her stuff from her dead body. For what? The sake of getting money so he please himself with temporary pleasures?” he stopped for a moment, taking in a deep breath before continuing.
“I felt a rage boiling inside me...it started in my chest. And it spread throughout my entire body. I felt a heat, as if it...melted off my skin, shedding it away. Melting away my weak shell, and making me a furious, bloodlust killer.”
Daryn stopped, feeling a bit of regret in telling the story. Ren assumed it was the end of it since he said nothing more.
Probably because everyone knows what happened after that. He literally tore that guy apart, and it took a whole quarter of the Black Ops unit at the time to suppress him. And he gained the reputation of the crazy orphan by all the kids. Poor guy…
“I don’t want you to pity me, or praise me. What became of that day was nothing good, I’d give up my ‘natural talent’ to have my mother back any day,” he said grimly.
Ren nodded, “I’m sure anyone would, kid.”
Some few moments of silence had passed as the two walked together, and they had finally reached the barracks of the Black Ops complex.
Daryn gazed at the wide open, and near empty concrete room. There was only four counters, and three with someone standing behind them, and no supplies to be seen anywhere.
So where are all the weapons and gear kept if this is the barracks itself? Doesn’t make sense to not give elite fighters access to their own supplies.
Ren guided Daryn to one of the counters where a man stood with some gear laid out in front of him.
My new gear, I assume, Daryn thought, as he stood at the counter with Ren.
The man spoke, “Here’s your new gear, Skycutter. Let me know if something doesn’t fit.”
With that, Daryn took his gear and went off to change.