"Go!"
A faint voice sounded at the corner in a dark, slum street.
"Go, Rooney! If you stay here, you're gonna die with me," the same faint voice added.
"Mrrrr..."
Rooney, a skinny dog with ribs poking out like broken bones, rested its head on his leg and whimpered at the command, hesitant to leave.
No matter how hard the young boy had tried sending it away, it refused to go.
Bran was that young boy with the faint voice, sitting by the cracked wall of an old scrapyard at the edge of the slums. His breath came out in shallow puffs, barely warm in the night air. His shirt was torn, his stomach empty, and his lips cracked.
Their appearance was enough to reveal their situation.
Hunger.
Intense starvation.
"I mean it, boy. Go find something to eat. I'm just a loser. I can't get us something to eat."
He didn't want to say it, but it was the truth. He hadn't eaten in two days. His legs were numb. The last job he tried to get told him to come back with clean shoes...
He didn't even have shoes.
The last thing he wanted at this point was for Rooney to die of hunger with him.
"Go, Rooney! Go!"
Bran had to get aggressive with the dog, the only family he had after his parents died.
Just a few months ago, he was doing just fine, living on the resources the Global Police Authority funded to him as compensation for his parents' demise, until he was discovered not to have awakened the Gift, and was thrown out of the house.
His uncle had taken advantage of his misery, claiming everything his father had, and leaving him with nothing.
That was how it all started.
No one helped. He had no one, actually.
Rooney was the only family he had, but today, there was no doubt he would be losing the dog as well.
"Please go."
Bran pushed Rooney forward, urging him to leave.
"Mrrrr..."
"You can't stay with me any longer. I'm going to die. Just go back to the house. Uncle Craster and his family might throw a bone," Bran added.
Even after urging aggressively, the dog still didn't want to leave.
"Mrrrr..."
But at one point, Bran picked up a small stone and threw it at the dog.
"You have to go."
"Eeerhhh..."
Finally, it was at that time that the dog cried and ran out of the scrapyard.
Rooney left, and Bran was alone at the small wooden board house at the corner of that scrapyard.
This was where he had lived since the day fate slapped him in the face, and he was beginning to believe that this was the same place he would die.
After watching the hungry dog disappear into the distance, Bran lay on the cold floor, clutching his belly.
He would literally get sleepy quickly due to the hunger, but the truth was that Bran didn't want to sleep.
"Don't fall asleep," he told himself.
He'd heard stories of people dying in their sleep from hunger and cold. He wasn't sure if they were true, but he didn't want to find out.
So he forced himself up, legs shaking under his weight, hoping that somehow, dawn would come before he realized it.
"Help!!!"
But then, he suddenly heard a voice from the distance.
Bran froze.
He knew what could be happening at that point. The world was full of crimes, so it wasn't hard to figure...
Bran thought of minding his business and lying back, but somehow, he found himself standing up.
Maybe he was just doing it to prevent dozing off, so he just decided to take a look at what was going on.
"Let it go!" the tough masculine voice sounded.
"No!" a screaming feminine followed.
Bran flinched as he stepped out into the street.
Down the road, under a flickering streetlamp, a man in a black coat had a girl by the arm. She looked young, holding her bag tight while the man pointed an icy dagger at her face.
Bran's hands trembled.
He knew he should walk away.
He was starving. Weak. Barely alive.
But his body moved on its own, somehow still approaching the scene. Bran would never develop interest in anything like this, but today... today appeared to be different.
"Hey!" Bran shouted. "Let her go!"
He tried stopping the man as he approached, noticing that it was really a young girl slightly over his age.
But the man didn't turn.
It was as though he didn't hear a word from him, as he continued to drag the bag from her.
Noticing this, Bran grabbed a stone from the ground. It was small and light, but he threw it with everything he had left.
That was the only thing he could do to stop the criminal after discovering that he was almost getting away with the bag.
The rock smacked the man's shoulder at once.
"Argh, crap!" he cursed and turned toward Bran in anger.
Swiftly, the girl took her chance and ran.
Noticing that he was now being faced, Bran turned to do the same.
He knew he'd be cooked if the man caught up with him, so he had to save his life.
He tried running with all his might, despite being so weak he could barely thrust his arms.
But unfortunately, his legs gave out... His belly betrayed him.
"Shit!"
Bran fell even before he realized it, and the next thing he felt was intensely cold metal against his skin.
"You think you're a hero, huh?" the man bellowed angrily.
Pain. Cold. Then warm blood.
Bran felt his whole body turning stiff.
Pow! Pow! Pow!
As if that weren't enough, the man followed up with several kicks and punches to his face.
Bran coughed out mouthfuls of blood, struggling to breathe. It was as though he was at the brink of death.
A starving boy getting beaten to a stupor? It was like having a chat with death.
POW!
With a final strike to his face, Bran lost it.
'Is this how it ends?' he asked himself.
He got completely blurred, and his eyes slowly shut close, losing complete consciousness.
He might be dying today, but he never regretted helping that girl escape.
That was the biggest achievement he had made in his entire life, and he was glad.
But then, just before he blacked out...
An unfamiliar sound rang in his head.
[Ultimate Justice Sys...]