The Godly Supreme

1: Survive

A huge, isolated building stood on the outskirts of Velora city, the capital city of the Northern Atlantis. It was far away from the city's lights and noise.

It appeared cold and grey, exuding a particular eerie air tonight. This building was a topic of constant interest in the city, but no one ever wanted to visit it.

Often, a curious child would ask, "Mom, who lives in the tall building across the sea?"

The mother would reply in a harsh tone, "Don't think or talk about that place anymore. There are monsters in there... Monsters that gobble up children!"

Children would then be too scared to mention the building again. Even adults spoke about it with caution. There was so much fear in Velora about what lies at the outskirts of the city.

This is because the tall, desolate building is Crescent Hill asylum, the city's infamous mental facility. Unlike what its name depicts, it wasn't some sort of healing center for the mentally ill.

Rather, it housed the most dangerous, insane criminals in the city. Even while deranged, these criminals had committed many atrocious crimes, including horrifying murders.

Like the case of the patient in Room 13, a man who used to carve the lips off his victims and stitch them into a book. When he was caught, he claimed he was collecting smiles.

Or the former psychiatric nurse now in Room 40, who used to inject bleach into the veins of his patients. Till this very day, whenever he is questioned about the reason for his gruesome actions, he would insist that he was only purifying their souls.

And there was the puppeteer in Room 65 who was a former stage performer and had turned his victims into literal marionettes by breaking joints and wiring tendons.

He performed the 'shows' in his basement. Even the doctors refused to go near his room without bringing a sizable number of guards along.

There were several other cases of more psychopaths and the list could go on forever.

One could tell that these maniacs weren't at Crescent Hill asylum to be saved. Rather, they were sent there so the rest of the world could be safe from them.

Almost every day, black vans would drive in and out of the high, sturdy gates. Sometimes, these vans would bring in new patients.

Other times, they would leave with body bags of doctors who were careless enough to have let their guards down or patients who had to be put down before they hurt someone else.

Everyone who stepped into the facility, be it a doctor, a guard, or a patient, had just one mission—survive...

Now, inside the asylum was one strange patient that nobody could understand. He never screamed like the other demented patients or attacked anyone. He didn't seem to have a violent bone in him and also never spoke.

He only stared into space all day like he was lost in his own world. If it wasn't for the muddled expression on his face and the medical reports of his brain damage, no one would believe he was mentally ill.

Even sometimes, when other patients unleashed their craziness on him or when the doctors laid their hands on him, he never fought back. His weak nature made him an easy target for doctors just like now.

THUD!

He staggered backward from the forceful impact of the punch he had just received on the stomach and his face contorted. He doubled over in pain.

"Why don't you just say something, huh? Plead for mercy, you mute!" Another doctor snarled viciously as he kicked at the young man's legs directly, causing him to lose his balance and hit the floor.

COUGH!

COUGH!

He coughed heavily on the floor, blood oozing out of his mouth, but the doctors weren't done with him yet. One huge doctor walked forward and lifted him off the ground before—

SMASH!

"Ugh!" The young man cried out as the doctor smashed his head against the toilet bowl. His eyes rolled back as he crumpled to the ground, a pool of blood spreading beneath him.

He panted weakly, his breath shallow, as if his soul was slipping away. Another doctor stepped over him and stripped away the last shred of his dignity.

SPLAT

"Bwahaha!"

The others cackled as warm liquid hit his body. They laughed harder, watching their colleague urinate all over the broken man.

But one of the doctors quickly noticed that the bloodied young man lying on the tiles was having difficulty breathing. He panicked slightly.

"Oh no, is he going to die?"

But the doctor that had smashed his head against the toilet bowl scoffed, "It's better he dies now. He's just a useless piece of shit anyway. When he dies, we will be able to receive the rest of our payment."

They missed the way the young man on the floor convulsed slightly before finally breathing his last. However, just as he became motionless, something strange happened.

Blood trailed down from his forehead to a dirty, rusty chain around his neck. As soon as it touched the small, faded pendant, the blood vanished.

The pendant absorbed the blood greedily and glowed slightly. A soft light pulsed from it and slipped into his still body.

Suddenly, the young man jolted. His eyes snapped open. His previous muddled expression and empty gaze were clear. His eyes turned sharp, clear, and icy blue like the most beautiful ocean.

A chilling aura wrapped around him as questions stormed his mind. 'Who am I? Where am I? Why am I here?'

But just then, answers came crashing down; lost memories flooding his mind like a tidal wave.

He was Kairos Lockwood, the Supreme general of the Atlantis army!

How then did he end up deranged at a mental institute like Crescent Hill asylum?

Kairos' brows knitted as more memories flooded in. Before the army... Before the war, he was once a son-in-law to the prestigious Castillo family.

His paternal grandfather had sent him away to live under the care of the former patriarch of the Castillos family at the age of seventeen.

By the time he was twenty, he had fallen in love with the oldest granddaughter of the Castillo family, Lilith. The entire family, including Lilith’s parents, waged strongly against their love affair.

But the old patriarch had given them his consent to get married. His words were the final say. No one dared go against him.