The air smelled like smoke and blood.


    Luka stood still.


    The ground was covered in ash and charred debris. Buildings that had once been filled with voices and life were now silent, blackened skeletons.


    Bodies lay motionless. Some crushed beneath collapsed beams. Others slumped over shattered market stalls where his mother used to take them to buy bread.


    The sea breeze carried the stench of burning flesh.


    Luka didn’t react.


    He wasn’t sure how to.


    His mother was gone. His father was gone. Everything that had once been his home had been reduced to nothing.


    He should feel something.


    Anger? Sadness? Despair?


    But he just… stood there.


    Sasha, on the other hand—


    She was breathing too fast.


    Her chest rose and fell in frantic, uneven movements. Her hands trembled so badly she could barely hold the bloodied knife she had stolen from one of the fallen soldiers.


    She still hadn’t let go.


    Luka tilted his head slightly, watching.


    What did it feel like?


    That suffocating, twisting pain that made Sasha’s eyes red, that made her grip things too tightly, that made her voice tremble when she spoke—


    Why couldn’t he understand it?


    Then—


    BOOM.


    The ground shook.


    A flash of blue energy.


    Luka turned in time to see a figure emerging through the smoke—


    A massive Onix head exploded.


    Its body collapsed, twitching violently before going still.


    His ears rang.


    What…?


    Then—a voice.


    “Found them!”


    Soldiers.


    They moved in formation, weapons raised, their boots crunching over the debris. Blue energy flickered along their rifles—the same light that had killed the Onix.


    One of them, a tall man in a dark uniform, stepped forward. His long coat swayed as he surveyed the ruined village, face shadowed beneath his helmet.


    He turned his head slightly—listening to something over his earpiece.


    Then his eyes landed on them.


    Sasha stepped in front of Luka instantly. The movement was so fast that Luka barely registered it.


    The man studied them.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    His gaze flickered to the knife in Sasha’s shaking hands. Then to the Onix corpses.


    Then—to Luka.


    His expression shifted.


    “You’re the one who awakened,” he said.


    Sasha’s grip tightened. “How do you—?”


    “We saw it from the sky.” His tone was neutral. “Jōki eruptions like that don’t go unnoticed.”


    Sasha blinked. “Sky?”


    Luka turned his head slightly—


    And saw it.


    A ship.


    It hovered just beyond the smoke clouds, its metallic surface reflecting the firelight below. Massive. Sleek. Blue lights flashing along its hull.


    A military airship.


    The man took a step closer, tilting his head.


    “Are you the only survivors?”


    Sasha hesitated.


    Luka looked around again.


    The realization settled in his stomach like a rock.


    It was just them.


    Then—


    Rustling.


    A faint sound from the debris.


    Luka turned.


    A small figure stumbled out from behind a collapsed house.


    A girl. Younger than Sasha. Her face was covered in soot and dried tears, her small hands clutching a piece of her ruined dress. She was shaking.


    Behind her—more movement.


    Two.


    Three.


    Four.


    More children.


    They stepped out hesitantly, wide-eyed, silent.


    Not a single adult.


    The soldiers stiffened.


    Luka blinked.


    There were more?


    He wasn’t sure why that surprised him.


    Of course there were.


    The Onix hadn’t spared the strong.


    They had left behind the weak.


    The ones who couldn’t fight back.


    The blue glow on the soldiers’ rifles flickered again.


    Luka had seen that energy before.


    Jōki.


    ******


    A power that wasn’t supposed to belong to humans.


    It had existed for centuries, an energy fueled by emotion itself. Some wielded it like an extension of their will, shaping the air, bending fire, strengthening their bodies beyond human limits.


    But not everyone had it.


    Only 40% of the world’s population could use Jōki.


    The rest—people like Luka—could only see it. Feel it in the air, but never touch it.


    Until now.


    Because today Sasha had awakened.


    ******


    Sasha let out a sharp breath. She looked like she was about to collapse.


    Luka simply watched.


    The tall soldier turned away from them, pressing a hand to his earpiece.


    “We have survivors. Mostly children.” A short pause.


    “No. No adults.”


    Luka didn’t know what was being said on the other end, but whatever it was, the soldier’s expression darkened slightly.


    Then, without another word, he turned back.


    “Round them up.”


    His men moved immediately.


    Two soldiers reached for the closest child—a small boy, barely six years old. The kid flinched at the touch, his breath hitching, his tiny hands gripping the torn fabric of his clothes.


    The soldier crouched down, voice calm but empty.


    “It’s alright. We’re taking you somewhere safe.”


    The boy didn’t respond.


    None of them did.


    They let themselves be led away without a word.


    Not crying.


    Not resisting.


    Just walking.


    Luka and Sasha weren’t approached. The tall man simply gestured for them to follow.


    Sasha let out a slow, shaky breath.


    Then—she dropped the knife.


    It hit the ground with a soft clink.


    And they walked.


    Past the burning ruins of their home.


    Past the shattered streets.


    Past bodies they recognized.


    Luka stepped over the corpse of the market vendor who used to sneak him extra bread when their mother wasn’t looking.


    His body was half-buried under rubble.


    His hand was still outstretched.


    As if he’d been reaching for something.


    Luka tilted his head.


    Sasha grabbed his wrist. “Don’t look.”


    Luka turned away.


    The military ship loomed ahead, its ramp descending as soldiers herded the children inside.


    Luka took one last glance at what was left of the island.


    It was already unrecognizable.


    *****


    The military ship was colder than Luka expected.


    The moment they stepped inside, the noise of the outside world disappeared.


    The walls were smooth and metallic, lined with glowing blue panels that pulsed faintly. The air smelled sterile—like metal and something faintly artificial.


    The other children were led to a separate section.


    Sasha, however—was pulled aside.


    Luka didn’t like that.


    His fingers twitched.


    Sasha looked back at him, her face tight with exhaustion. She didn’t resist.


    But her eyes held a silent plea.


    “Don’t let them take me alone.”


    Luka didn’t move.


    He just stared at the soldier gripping her arm.


    The tall officer noticed. He glanced between them before giving the soldier a short nod.


    “Let the boy go with her.”


    The soldier hesitated—then released Sasha’s arm.


    She immediately grabbed Luka’s wrist.


    Her hand was clammy. Damp with sweat.


    Luka didn’t pull away.


    The officer led them down a narrow corridor, his coat swaying with every step. He barely looked back as he spoke.


    “You’ll be taken in for processing.”


    Sasha swallowed. “Processing?”


    “Tests. Identification. Basic scans.”


    Her grip tightened.


    “Tests for what?”


    The man didn’t stop walking. “Jōki potential.”


    Sasha stiffened.


    Luka remained silent.


    He already knew.


    He had none.


    At the end of the corridor, a door slid open.


    The room inside was too bright. Too white.


    It smelled even stronger of metal and chemicals.


    Machines lined the walls—some humming softly, their screens filled with data Luka didn’t understand.


    A group of scientists stood waiting.


    One of them—a woman with sharp eyes and tied-back hair—held a clipboard.


    She barely acknowledged Sasha.


    Instead, she turned to the officer.


    “This is the girl?”


    “She awakened on the battlefield,” the officer confirmed.


    The woman’s expression didn’t change.


    She turned to Sasha.


    “Sit.”


    Sasha hesitated.


    The woman pointed to a metal chair in the center of the room. Thick wires curled around its base, attached to a large machine.


    Luka didn’t like it.


    Something about this place felt wrong.


    Sasha slowly sat.


    The moment she did—metal restraints snapped around her wrists and ankles.


    She flinched.


    Luka stepped forward.


    A hand landed on his shoulder.


    He turned.


    The officer shook his head slightly.


    A silent warning.


    Luka looked back at Sasha.


    She was breathing too fast.


    The woman pressed something on a panel.


    The machine hummed to life.


    Thin, glowing wires extended, attaching to Sasha’s skin.


    They pulsed—


    Once.


    Twice.


    A sharp beep filled the air.


    Numbers flashed across the screen.


    The scientists leaned in.


    Luka couldn’t read the data—but he didn’t have to.


    The way their eyes widened.


    The way their heads nodded in approval.


    The way their murmurs filled the room.


    It was clear.


    Sasha had strong Jōki.


    But then—


    The machine glitched.


    A loud crack echoed through the air.


    Sparks flickered from the wires, the screen distorting.


    The scientist’s expressions shifted.


    The woman at the panel frowned, pressing buttons rapidly. “That’s not—”


    Then the screen flashed red.


    And suddenly—


    The restraints tightened.


    Sasha gasped.


    Her body jerked.


    Something was wrong.


    The scientists stepped back.


    Luka didn’t blink.


    Sasha’s breath hitched.


    Her Jōki flared.


    The machine exploded.