The skies were silent above the endless stretch of cracked earth. The wind carried dust and ashes—remnants of a battlefield long left behind.
Aryan stirred.
His eyes fluttered open, barely able to adjust to the searing light of the suns above. A dull ache pulsed in his ribs. His mouth tasted like iron.
"Ugh… where—?"
"You're awake."
Aryan turned his head, groaning. Kat was walking beside him, dragging a makeshift stretcher fashioned from cloth and scavenged wood. Aryan was lying on it.
"Kat… what happened?" he whispered.
Kat glanced down. "You passed out after charging Roy. Raizen… stopped you. Violently."
The memory returned like a hammer to the skull.
Selena. Frozen. Her lifeless face. The explosion. Raizen's kick.
Aryan's hands clenched around the edge of the stretcher. "She didn't deserve to die."
Kat remained silent.
"I couldn't save her," Aryan muttered. His voice trembled with guilt, rage, and something deeper—resolve. "I need to become stronger. Strong enough to stop this from ever happening again."
The wind howled in agreement, like the world itself understood.
Kat nodded solemnly. "Then keep moving forward. That's all we can do."
A Dusty Road into Danger
Hours passed. The sun dipped low, painting the skies with streaks of crimson and orange.
Aryan walked now, his body still bruised but functional. His fingers tingled with power—flames danced along his skin, harmlessly licking his arms.
"So… I can control fire now," he said, holding out a small flame.
Kat raised an eyebrow. "Makes sense. You Copy Bandit s magic after that intense fight and you broke his neck which killed him ."
"But I also defeated other bandits. Why can't I use their powers?" Aryan asked, confused.
Kat stopped walking. "Because your power copy magic work in different way. Your ability… it's a type of Copy Magic."
Aryan's eyes widened. "Copy magic…?"
Kat nodded. "There are many variations like Copy and Absorption. Yours is copy magic which only activates if you defeat someone stronger than yourself. That's the condition."
Aryan frowned. "So it's not enough to win—I have to overcome someone beyond my limit?"
"Exactly," Kat said. "It's rare. Risky. But powerful. Others have different kinds of copy magic. Some can mimic any spell they see. Some create clones using copied magic. There's even a variant where someone steals powers permanently… but that's just rumor."
Aryan's gaze drifted to the horizon. "So… I need to keep getting stronger. Or this power is useless."
"Pretty much."
A heavy silence followed as they trudged through the wasteland's edge, where bones of ancient beasts rose like spires from the cracked earth.
A New Journey Begins
Aryan looked around. The atmosphere had changed.
The trees were no more—replaced by jagged stones and ancient ruins buried half under the sand. An unnatural chill lingered despite the burning skies.
"Where are we going?" he finally asked.
"To the ruins," Kat replied, eyes serious. "An old Wasteland Temple. Hidden deep within one of the most dangerous regions of this world."
"Why?"
Kat looked at Aryan and smirked. "Because that's where secrets lie. And we're going to need everything we can find if we want to survive what's coming next."
Aryan's fists tightened. He could feel the fire inside him stir—not just the magic, but the purpose.
No more running.
No more helplessness.
It was time to walk into the storm.
Chapter End.