Nestled within a tightly guarded, pristine forest in the heartland, a scene unfolded that wasn't typical for the secluded area. Today, it wasn't the untamed wilderness that sparked intrigue; it was the presence of two men, standing amidst the dense greenery, their attention riveted on something that lay before them. "Donned in a mask resembling a monkey, is this what they discovered?" inquired one man, his identity veiled by the sculpted disguise. Beside him, another figure stood, his face equally obscured but with a plain white mask, its simplicity stark against the elaborate carving of his companion's. "Indeed, sir. Reports suggest that the area is teeming with unidentifiable energy fluctuations," the man in the plain mask replied. "I can sense it. Even when I harness my inner strength, I can't decipher these energy pulses." The timbre of his voice suggested a man in his prime, likely under forty. His hand, outstretched towards the pulsating, soft yellow light. It bore resembla

"Your every action betrays your uniqueness," Lucius declared, staring at the stern general who appeared to be channeling his inner power. This was the same man who had once plunged, fearlessly, from the precipice of a deep mine. "And yet, you remain silent on my proposition," Lucius reminded. "Your offer to join the military? Regrettably, I have no such inclinations." "Do you not fear the life of a fugitive then?" "If I harbored such fear, I would never have defied expectations to begin with," Lucius retorted, his characteristic grin stretching across his face. "A shame. You possess the raw potential of a high-ranking military officer," the middle-aged man sighed, his fist tightening once more. Like an aircraft preparing for takeoff, the air around him hummed with potent energy. "Booommm!" He became a blur, moving so swiftly that Lucius could barely track his movement. Running purely on instinct, Lucius tilted his head, narrowly avoiding a blast of energy reminiscent of a cannon

In an otherwise technologically advanced civilization, certain pockets remain somewhat untouched by progress. An excellent example is a small village nestled on the city's outskirts. In spite of the nation's technological prowess, the adults here appear to live in a bygone era. The village seldom experiences the hum of motor vehicles; the residents are content with their simple means of transportation: walking or cycling to their fields. Their lives harmonize with nature, creating a serene atmosphere that blankets the village. A modest market sits in the heart of the village, bustling with vendors who peddle goods bought from the city or sell their agricultural produce. "Vintage paintings for sale!" a man with a bushy mustache booms, his voice drawing villagers like a magnet. Thirsty for some entertainment, the villagers flock around the mustachioed man showcasing his artwork. "These paintings depict ancient kings, treasured artifacts that carry a hefty price tag," he announces, ea

Lucius, the young man, halted just shy of treading on a decaying corpse. Around him were bodies, their skin turned a sickly black and bloated from decay. Even maggots had started to make an appearance. "What kind of battle happened here?" Lucius mused aloud. Kneeling down, he studied one of the corpses closely. The face, frozen in an open-mouthed expression of horror, bore a small, blackened hole that looked suspiciously like a bullet wound. "Could they have been shot?" Lucius pondered. The sight before him was starkly different from the fallen soldiers of the Hedron kingdom he had seen in his previous life. With a dismissive "Thud," he kicked the corpse's head aside, looking for something underneath. "Nothing here," he grumbled, disappointment in his tone. His gaze flitted around the area, quickly spotting a few items of interest: a marble-like object, a card stuck in the ground, and an object resembling a painting. "These items... They could be what I've been looking for," Luci

City of splendor and power, homes of those closest to the king were notably grand, but one stood out among them all. This mansion, constructed from the finest wood, was adorned with natural stones and statues glistening with a golden sheen, an ostentatious display of wealth. "Why is the slave trader so tardy?" the owner, a man of considerable girth, grumbled. He tapped his belly impatiently, as if this action could hasten the arrival of his expected goods. "Sir, I have received word that your goods have entered the city," informed an older man, whispering to his superior as he held a note retrieved from a pigeon's leg. "Is a new trader arriving?" the fat man asked, his eyes gleaming with a childlike anticipation of a long-awaited toy. "Yes, sir." "Eland, prepare my money bag. We are heading straight to the sales location," he commanded. Eland, a weathered servant, nodded obediently and scurried off to fulfill the order. ** "This place is fascinating," Lucius mused. Having adjust