Golias woke up in a storeroom, beaten and broken in spirit. Next to him was one of the skull scum who ganged up on him, while the other three of them were guarding Vanessa and Role. It was at that time he realised how foolish he really was. He could not match up to an entire gang with just a bunch of kids. He groaned, trying to pick himself up, but was met with a bat to the head to put him back down.

“Ay ay, don’t hurt him too much, boss said he can make up for his mistakes if he does what he asks of him. That means you shouldn’t hurt him too much,” one of the scums informed the other that they were their property.

“We can afford to hit him once or twice.”

He caught a glimpse of Vanessa shaking in fear while one of the thugs held her shoulder. The scumbag placed his hands on her. His mother always taught him that there were men in this world who would get too comfortable with girls—she also taught him something about women, but he forgot.

He gazed at his new enemy, full of rage. He was injured, yet he ran towards the scum at full speed. The one guarding him chased after him, but Golias’ face had already met the bat of his current target. Even then, he did not fall. He forced himself to stand and continued charging with the wrath of a bull.

Suddenly, one of the scum who was watching from the sidelines was pulled through the walls of the storeroom by a metal gauntlet with a grey disk attached face-up to it that had burst through it. The skull turned his focus to the broken wall, leaving themselves vulnerable enough for Golias to knock him out with an upper right.

He picked up the bat that the thug dropped and battered him with it. He broke his left arm first, then his legs so he could not stand back up. The scum screamed for help, but the others remained stunned in fear. Golias busted the skull’s head open; his blood splattered on his face. He smiled devilishly as he wiped the blood off his face.

“What… are.. you. waiting for? Kill him now!” the leader ordered the last remaining scum.

He came charging towards Golias, with his legs shaking. He was in luck as the kid’s body gave up. With this, he rushed in to slaughter the exhausted child, only to have his bat pushed away from his hand by nothing.

“What?”

“Golias… What are you doing?”

He looked at the person who called out his name. A child— younger than himself—wearing a helmet straight out from those children's books about knights and the same metal gauntlet on the left hand that used to grab one of the scum. He recognized that voice from anywhere. How could he forget?

“Revan? You’re here?”

“Don’t say my name dumbass! Can’t you see I’m wearing a disguise?!”

Golias was dumbfounded by his childish response. Here he was, blood on his hands, on the verge of death; saved by his friend who was wearing a weird costume and had weird powers? Normally he would not believe this, but it just happened in front of him.

“Role, Vanessa. Are you two ok?” the weirdly dressed Revan asked.

Vanessa remained silent as she crawled away from the body of the dead pile of shit. Some of the blood was tainted on her. However, There's no time to worry about that when the fight was not over yet. There were still two left. The one behind him stomped at his legs, Golias cried out in pain, only to feel blood sprayed on his face. He could hear the cries of the scum who stopped kicking him. He turned around to see his attacker missing a leg, brutally cut off from him; he lost his balance as he only had one to support him.

“What did you do?” Golias asked the only one he could think of to have shot it.

“Eh? Nothing he didn’t deserve. You of all people should know this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Can you see yourself right now? There’s blood on your face, yet you smile like a psychopath. I didn’t kill him, but I should've done that.”

Golias placed his hands on his face. He realised that he was smiling even when he was near-death. The blood was rising in him, the noises were getting louder. His vision darkened. He felt like it was a nightmare, yet it was all too real. He finally heard the screams of the last thug; Revan had done the deed. A friend he swore to protect was no longer the same.

“Golias! Wake up! We need to go!” a feminine voice grabbed onto him desperately, yet it all faded into ashes in his head.

He did not feel good about leaving his friend behind, but it was for the best. If only he had the heart to kill the thugs. He could only assume that his name was no longer safe. Life was not something easy to take, but Revan had already seen how fragile one’s life could be. If it came to it, he would take a life if it meant protecting those he loves.

Now that he saved his friends, he no longer had any weak points to stop him from his goal. He was in a block of the slums controlled by the skulls; everyone here was a member that served them. Whether forcibly or willingly, if given a chance to liberate themselves, he was sure they would take it. Or so he had heard from a rumour; but even rumours could have some sort of legitimacy.

He walked up to his new companion, Jack as he said his name was. He wore a crimson demon mask over his face and a brown ravaged cloak over his rich clothing. Marked Albalos tends to have easier lives than markless, he did not even know why that was the case. There were all the same to him, but perhaps the great town keeper would know.

“Can you not stare at me like that? It makes me feel uncomfortable.”

“You picking a fight with me, rich boy?”

“No? You’re not subtle at all with your hostility at all. What did I even do to you for you to hate me?”

The privileged never do know how much the poor suffer. Jack walked out of the alleyway—of the one Revan had just invaded—to find the rest of the skulls. Those thugs with bats were still at the bottom of the food chain within the skulls. The “boss” they were talking about was probably the ruler of this block.

As soon as he reached out in the open, he could sense some sort of hostility coming from a distance away. A gunshot crack sounded through the block. He wanted to test the limits of his new power, so this was a great opportunity. It zoomed past his head as he stepped back to cover; this confirmed it. They were out for blood.

“Jack, have you committed the sin of taking a life.”

“No, I haven’t killed anyone ever.”

“Don’t hold me back.”

He rushed forward swiftly, dodging the bullet and catching a glimpse where it came from. A skull using a rifle refined in a way that you would expect from inside the walls. He had some questions in mind, but he focused on the gun.

He came to a stop and raised both his hands to face his palms to the sniper. With this, the conditions were set. He could use the second ability he was taught by the voice in his head. He said it was the ability to lift any magnetic metal. This did not sound too interesting at first. Nevertheless, he still appreciated the power.

He used his power to levitate the gun up, before the sniper could shoot at him. The skull effortlessly tried to pull it back down, but it was not working. Made sense. It only takes the metal’s weight to account. And right now, that gun was light enough for him to hold it.

Although, now he was stuck in a stalemate where neither could attack the other. Jack had other plans. He pulled out a polearm with a straight single-edged sword’s blade stuck to the head of the black wooden stick from out of thin air. Conjuration was the so-called most important skill to have first, but all they needed it for was to bring out their equipment.

He had wondered what other uses it had, but now was not the time for that. Jack coated his weapon in a concentrated heat, and used it to send out a flame slash towards the sniper. He could not dodge it in time, so he had to suffer the burns inflicted on him by the flames. Revan reluctantly let go of the gun now that the skull was taken care of.

“That one was probably a scout. We have to keep moving if we want to find the boss.”

“Do you have a grudge against him?”

“Yes,” Raven walked away before Jack could ask anything else of him.