2025-10-14 15:20:34“Kaelen Nox!” I heard a familiar voice call out to me from behind. I turned back instantly, it was JD Blaxskn. He was the guardian of the Crucible of Vxx and a legendary figure envied by all. He was massive and stoic—a towering figure and the embodiment of his clan's brute strength. His form was not just large; it was a solid, imposing mass of muscle and bone, sculpted by a lifetime of combat and trials. His movements were deliberate and powerful, betraying a deep, reserves-of-strength that are rarely needed. As for his demeanor, he was profoundly stoic. His face, scarred by countless battles, showed no emotion. His eyes were calm but piercing, reflecting the wisdom and immense weight of being a guardian and a living legend. This stoicism was a sign of his authority and control, an unshakeable presence in a world of chaos and violence.
He had served in the Liberated Liions for thousands of solar years as a common soldier at first and then as a commander. He had led them into numerous battles which were effortlessly won under his leadership. Being over 700 solar years old—but hardly looking his age—he decided to resign as the chief commanding officer and rather train young men like us into becoming the Liberated Liion we were meant to be.
“Sir!” I saluted. I immediately ran towards him. He was a kind and reasonable man but he didn't like to be kept waiting. A lot of the boys had earned long hours of bathroom duty just by answering his call too late or giving excuses.
“Come over here son!”
I went ahead with him. As we gradually left the arena, I could hear the chants fade away. We walked a little distance and all the while we walked, he uttered no words except for the intimidating sound of his heavy breath. Suddenly he stopped. With his hands crossed behind him, he looked me straight in the eyes.
A cold shiver, despite the spitting heat wave ran down my spine. I had never actually been summoned by him before, how much more taken a walk with him and even worse, looked straight into his eyes. I only ever witnessed him from a distance. A thousand thoughts ran through my mind at that moment. “Am I in trouble? Did I mistakenly forget one of my duties? Perhaps an unpolished pair of boots or untidied stable?” I wasn't even on stable duty for that week. Well, you can never be too careful, I guess.
For the next twenty seconds, all we did was maintain eye contact. In those few moments, I understood all that this soldier had stood for in the protection of the realm. As I stood before him, the envy and awe I felt were tinged with a new reverence. It wasn't just the sheer mass of the man. It was the details: the crisscross of scars on his face, the vacant socket where an eye once was, and the missing arm that ended just below his elbow. It was then I knew that legends pay the ultimate price for their victories.
“Hmm” He coughed, finally breaking the tense silence. “Do you know what the Blaxskn clan is known for?” He asked as we moved forward. “Yes, Sir. They are known for their strength, especially in combat.” I answered. “Now, that's right. The Blaxskn Clan is known for its brute strength and aggressive tactics. They are the heavy assault specialists of the Liberated Liions. Their members excel in close-quarters combat and use their physical might to overwhelm opponents. They are the frontline fighters who lead the charge and break enemy lines. In fact more than two-third of the Liberated Liions are from the Blaxskn clan.” He answered. He paused a bit and looked around as if waiting for his next thought to drop from the air.
“And you know the Silurix clan, your clan, are not recognized in the area of strength or combat. They are known for their stealth and cunning. They are the reconnaissance and sniper specialists of the Liberated Liions. Unlike the heavy-hitting Blaxskn Clan, the Silurix Clan focuses on observation, patience, and outwitting their enemies from a distance.” He paused again. I was getting really confused. I had no idea where he was heading with all that information.
“Now let's talk about Dallaxxs in particular. He was considered too big and strong for his age compared to his peers. At a tender age he had already killed his first beast, a milestone not usually achieved until after many solar years even for men of his clan. He was the strongest of all young Vxx brought to be trained. He already effortlessly won all two of the wicked trials prior to this penultimate one. You on the other hand have no serious achievements. But you proved to us today that the patience, resilience and determination of a Silurix was much more productive and effective than the strength of a Blaxskn. Well done son!” He said, placing his good hand on my shoulder.
I felt like I was floating on air. “Welldone?” I replayed his words in my head. I couldn't believe I was being commended by JD Blaxskn. “Thank you Sir.” I saluted. I tried my best to hide my joy but I'm quite sure my almost exploded red face gave me away. As I looked at his face, I could actually see that he was proud of me. More interestingly, I think I saw a little smile form over his cheeks.
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CHAPTER 14: EXILE FROM THE HEARTH
My aunt’s door remained shut, but I could feel her disappointment pressing on the wall like a physical force. Then I saw my uncle. He stood outside his workshop—a grizzled, quiet man whose rare approval meant everything to me. He watched me approach, his face a desolate mask of grief. As I drew level with him, his eyes, usually kind, hardened into chips of black granite. He met my gaze for a long, aching moment. Then, slowly, deliberately, he turned his back on me, walking into his workshop and pulling the heavy wooden door shut with a resounding thud.It was a physical blow that staggered me, a pain worse than any venom. He hadn’t just turned his back on me; he had extinguished my presence. I couldn't endure it. I couldn't live with the guilt and the unanswered condemnation. Ignoring the armed guards and the cold command in JD’s posture, I broke ranks. I ran to the back of my aunt's house, my legs burning with a fresh, desperate adrenaline. I shoved the familiar door open and stu
CHAPTER 13: EXECUTION BY JUDGMENT
The transit vehicle was a cage, armored and utterly black inside. I was slumped on a cold, unforgiving bench, fighting the constant urge to vomit. The metallic, bitter taste of the venom residue still coated my mouth like old pennies. My muscles were in revolt, not just tired, but actively spasming—a relentless tremor beneath my skin, like a thousand trapped needles. The ringing in my ears wasn't just loud; it was a high-pitched, mocking whine that blocked out everything real. My head felt like a bruised melon, thrumming with a headache that felt capable of splitting my skull.I tried to breathe—a simple, basic function—but my lungs burned. Every cell in my body felt violated, scraped clean. The swamp hadn't just drained my strength; it had stolen my ability to feel anything but this raw, awful emptiness. I was a man held together by pure, desperate, exhausted will. JD Blaxskn sat across from me, motionless and immaculate. He didn't look at me, but I felt his scrutiny, cold and clin
CHAPTER 12: UNTETHERED
We were moving out of the tent, heading toward the temporary storage area, when a body slammed into mine, sending a shockwave through me that nearly knocked me off my feet. I looked up and was met by the cold, unforgiving eyes of Jax Anvil. His stare had always been distant, but this was different. This was a message. And I understood it perfectly, without a single word being spoken. He blamed me for Titus's death. Jax let out a low, gruff huff, then looked away. A chilling feeling ran down my spine, confirming the unspoken accusation. He’s right. I am responsible for his death. My guilt twisted the moment, telling me Jax's pain was proof of my treachery.I found myself near the storage sacks, unable to move. I was lost in thoughts. I could not lift a finger to pack anything. All I did was sit still and observed an ant try to drag a grain of millet over to its layer. The ant struggled, slipped, righted itself, and hauled the grain again, its tiny effort immense. I saw myself in its
CHAPTER 11: A LINE ON THE LEDGER
I didn't run. I couldn't afford the panic. I walked, rigid and cold, toward the faint, sickly green glow of the trial marker. Every step was a forced act of will, driven by the ruthless core of the Silurix discipline: cunning ensures life. My boots squelched on the fungal mat, but the sound was distant, muffled by the ringing in my ears—a fading echo of Titus’s final agony.The marker was an ancient, rough-hewn stump, its wood covered in bioluminescent moss and the crudely carved sigil of the Liberated Liions. I reached out a trembling hand and pressed my palm against the cool, damp surface. The sigil flashed, a brief, silent affirmation that the trial was complete. I had survived. I had won.The moment the sigil flared, the oppressive silence of the swamp was ripped away. The heavy, sweet, intoxicating mist began to thin, pulled back by powerful, unseen vents hidden in the canopy. The sounds of the outside world—the distant, metallic hum of Victoria's machinery—rushed back in, ra
CHAPTER 10: TITUS! (II)
The Crucible was engineered to break you down, not just with impossible physical feats, but with relentless, gnawing hunger. Every meal was the same tasteless, lukewarm protein paste. They wanted us hollowed out, easier to fill with their dogma.But Titus was the only one who fought the hunger with laughter.“Look at that slop, Nox,” he’d grumble, kicking his boots in the dirt. “If I fed this to a stray dog back home, my mother would whip me.”Titus came from the wealthy Anvil clan; I came from the Silurix alleys, raised by the back of the palms of my aunt and uncle. Yet, the hunger made us equals. And the Instructors’ Mess Hall, forever wafting the rich, forbidden scent of spiced meat and dark sugar, became our common enemy."We need a distraction," he whispered that night in the barracks, the hunger making his voice tight. "They’re too paranoid to let anyone near that kitchen. They guard against strength, but they don't anticipate cunning."The mess hall ran on a main methane l
CHAPTER 9: A FINAL STEP SIDEWAYS
The sound arrived like a physical blow.It wasn't a roar of battle or a challenge; it was a pure, high-pitched shriek of sheer agony and terror, instantly recognizable, instantly wrong. It cut through the insulating silence of the swamp like a razor across velvet.Titus!The name tore through the haze of the hallucinogenic venom. All the spectral images—the disappointed faces of my aunt and uncle, the silent, judging figure of Titus—vanished. The mist, for one terrifying second, cleared enough for brutal reality to flood in. Titus was close. Too close. And he wasn't fighting the hallucinations; he was being torn apart. I had seen the sign. I had seen his image but I thought it was the swamp playing tricks on me. I ignored it.Now that I had realized how reckless I had been, my feet moved before my mind could process it. A rush of pure, raw instinct—Friend. Danger! Save him! I plunged forward, heedless of the terrain, ripping through hanging moss that stung my skin. I could hear
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