The morning sun rose over the horizon, bathing the landscape in golden light. The gentle breeze stirred the leaves as Amari and Daniel packed up their sleeping bags, their bodies still sore from training the night before. The faint hum of energy from their eyes flickered in the morning glow — a quiet reminder of the power coursing within them.
Amari adjusted his earpiece. "Sam, we're up."
A small click sounded, then Sam's voice came through, clear and calm.
"Good morning, Amari. Daniel. I've located a city not too far from your position. You'll need to head there next."
Daniel stretched, yawning. "Alright then, just lead the way."
"Understood," Sam replied. "I'll guide you as you travel."
With that, the two brothers slung their bags over their shoulders and began walking down the dirt road. The world around them was peaceful — birds chirping, sunlight spilling through trees, and the faint whisper of wind brushing against their cloaks. For a moment, it didn't feel like a journey for revenge or survival… it felt calm. Almost normal.
After a while, Daniel broke the silence. "Hey, Amari. Can I ask you something?"
Amari nodded. "Go ahead."
Daniel hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, "Why do you want to become a hero?"
Amari stopped walking for a moment, his eyes softening. "That's… a long story."
Daniel smiled faintly. "We got time."
Amari looked toward the sky, watching the clouds drift by. "When I was little, before I met you and the others… there was this woman. Her name was Samaya. She took me in after our parents left me at someone's doorstep. She was kind — strong, too. She treated me like her own son. Fed me. Bathed me. Kept me safe. She didn't have much, but she always smiled."
Daniel stayed quiet, listening as they walked.
"She worked as a mail carrier," Amari continued. "One day, while we were walking through the village, we saw a group of thugs harassing a woman — trying to steal her purse. Nobody else was around. Samaya looked at me, then at them, and she said, 'Stay here.'"
Amari's eyes shimmered faintly with memory. "She walked right up to them and said, 'Stop.' One of them laughed and said, 'What are you gonna do about it, lady?'"
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "She didn't back down, did she?"
Amari smiled faintly. "Not even close. She just said, 'You wanna find out?'"
He chuckled softly, remembering. "The thugs all charged at her at once. But she dropped them — one by one. Swift, clean hits. No hesitation. When it was over, she brushed her hands off and said, 'Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't fight and protect others.'"
Daniel grinned. "She sounds amazing."
"She was," Amari said quietly. "When she said that, I remember my eyes lighting up — literally and inside. I asked her, 'Why did you do that?' and she said, 'Because when you see someone in need, you help them.' That's when I decided I wanted to become a hero."
Amari's voice softened. "Three years later, when I was ten… she passed away. After that, I promised myself I'd always help people. I stayed in that house she left me for a while, but… I couldn't stay still. Eventually, I left to find you all."
Daniel looked down. "I'm sorry, Amari. That's a lot to carry."
Amari gave him a small smile. "It's alright. I don't really want to be a hero anymore. Not like that. I just… want to help people when they need it. Not chase danger — just do what feels right."
Daniel nodded, understanding. "That's real. I like that."
Their conversation faded as the city walls came into view — tall, ancient, and covered in vines. The sound of distant chatter and merchants filled the air.
Sam's voice returned through the earpiece.
"You've reached the city. Find an inn and rest there. I'll contact you in two days with your next mission. Use tomorrow to train — and maybe test out those new abilities you've been developing."
"Got it," Amari said.
As night fell, the brothers found a small inn tucked away between glowing lanterns and quiet streets. They ate, laughed lightly, and then fell into bed, exhausted from the journey.
Outside, the moon hung high — silver light spilling across the rooftops. The calm before whatever storm waited ahead.
Tomorrow, they would train again.
Tomorrow, they would grow stronger.