Super Guardian

Chapter 1: The Crimson Storm

Super Guardian by LittleLYTA

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The sky split open—not gently, not like a storm easing into rage, but like reality itself had been torn in half.

Black clouds churned in every direction, hemorrhaging light. Not sunlight. Not lightning. Something far more violent. A furious crimson radiance pulsed from above, stabbing down like the gaze of a wrathful god.

And in the center of it all, two figures clashed mid-air.

Not flying—fighting. Not soaring—surviving.

They danced across the sky like living weapons, locked in a storm that would have leveled mountains. Wings flared behind both, casting blazing trails that made the heavens bleed.

One of them was Zack Tennyson.

Red aura blazed from his body, licking across his skin like living fire. His crimson wings unfurled with a snap, leaving a jagged arc in the air as he twisted through another lethal strike. His breath was sharp. His eyes—sharper. Twin blades of scarlet fury locked on the enemy in front of him.

The enemy… wasn’t human.

It was a Dragon-Type Guardian. A massive humanoid wrapped in dark obsidian scales, each one gleaming like it had been forged in a volcano’s heart. Twin wings beat the air behind it like war drums. And in the center of its emotionless face burned two cold embers of pure disdain.

It said nothing.

But Zack grinned anyway.

"Come on, scale-face," he said, energy swirling around his fists. "Is that all you’ve got?"

The response came in violence.

BOOM.

They collided like meteors.

The shockwave cracked the sky. Below, the shattered ruins of some forgotten city trembled under the weight of their clash. Zack spun mid-air, throwing a flaming punch that caught the guardian’s armored forearm. Sparks exploded. Pressure rippled out in all directions, shattering broken towers and tossing rubble into the wind like ash.

Zack was already moving again—his body a blur of crimson and motion. His aura shimmered like lightning caged inside a firestorm, chaotic and hungry.

He dodged low beneath a sweeping tail. Caught the edge of a scaled blade in his palms. Twisted his torso. And with a roar, hurled the guardian into the ground with enough force to split the earth.

CRASH.

Stone cracked. Dust billowed upward in a choking column. But the Dragon Guardian rose from it unfazed—silent, wings rising like black blades against the bloodlit sky.

And then... they were airborne again.

The rhythm changed.

Faster. Deadlier. Every strike now threatened to end the fight in one blow. Wings cleaved through clouds. Claws clashed with reinforced fists. Every movement was too fast to follow, but too heavy to ignore. Even the wind screamed under the pressure of their battle.

Zack didn’t care.

He lived in this kind of chaos.

Mid-air, he stopped. Just like that. Floating—hovering in place, aura flaring so violently it bent the air around him.

His chest heaved. Blood dripped from a cut above his lip. But he was smiling.

And then—he did something strange.

He spoke.

Not to the guardian.

But to someone else.

“To you watching this…” Zack muttered, gaze unfocused for a second. “Wondering what the hell is going on…”

He raised his head slowly, eyes glowing like small suns, red and full of storm.

“You’re probably thinking, Who even is this guy? Why’s he throwing hands with some dragon freak like it’s just another Tuesday?”

He cracked his knuckles. The sound echoed like thunder.

“My name is Zack Tennyson.”

Far below, the guardian crouched on a floating ruin, building power in its core.

Zack kept speaking, dodging casually around a barrage of searing blasts without missing a beat.

“I wasn’t born like this,” he said. “I wasn’t strong. I wasn’t fast. I wasn’t chosen.”

A grin tugged at his mouth, and this time there was something darker in it—something earned.

“I couldn’t even punch through a soggy napkin back then…”

He vanished mid-sentence—appearing in front of the guardian mid-kick. A crimson flare burst from his foot, sending the enemy spiraling into a cloud.

“But that was then.”

Zack raised one hand, and lightning spiraled around his fingers.

“And this... this is now.”

The guardian roared and surged forward.

Zack didn’t flinch.

He charged to meet it—his body outlined in fire and fury.

And just before they collided again, he whispered:

“Let me tell you how it all began…”

---

The storm faded.

The sky fell silent.

And far, far away, where the world was still whole—beneath a sun baked hard by years of unforgiving light—the Sablefang Mountains rose from the horizon like a crown of teeth.

They stood tall. Silent. Scorched. Forgotten.

Winds howled between their jagged spires, carrying grains of sand and old stories alike. Tales of glory. Of blood. Of people no one remembered. The kind of stories that buried themselves in bones, not books.

From between two crumbling stones, a shadow emerged.

It moved sideways, its six thin legs tapping out a strange rhythm across the cracked earth. Its shell gleamed like dark oil—bulbous and jagged. A stinger curled over its back, dripping something that hissed when it touched the sand. Its thorax was fuzzy, pulsing with a dim light—almost like a dying ember refusing to go out.

This was a spirit beast.

Not just any kind.

Carbee.

The spirit beast climbed a ridge, twitching as it searched for food. It clicked. Buzzed. Skittered.

And then—

Click.

The earth beneath it shifted.

There was no warning. No growl. No roar.

Just a blur of motion—

And a blade rising from the sand like the fangs of death itself.

SHNK.

The dagger pierced straight through the Carbee’s underbelly, lifting it into the air for a split second. A wet, pulpy crunch followed as its limbs spasmed once… then stopped.

Its stinger twitched.

Its body sagged.

Dead.

And then—like an echo not in the world, but inside someone’s mind—a cold message arrived.

> [System Message: Silver-Rank Carbee killed.]

[No spirit gear obtained.]

[Consume flesh to gain between 0–10 Silver Spirit Points.]

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