Opening

There’s nothing average about it! “When your

dreams are put on hold for the pursuit of revenge, you soon discover there’s

more to life than you previously could see.”- Hyphen.                                                     The two brothers had no

way of knowing what fate awaited them and their friends as the dust settled

over the rubble on July 2nd, 2022, but they could be sure of one thing, their

days on the side-lines were over.

Thunder fell, as fists clashed with swords

high up in the sky.

  There might have been more to it than that

actually, perfectly timed counters and devastating strikes the likes of which

could bring down deities – but to them, it was just flashing streaks of light

followed by earthquake like tremors and the occasional stray energy wave

“How did it come to

this.” he wondered while standing in the rubble of what used to be the

neighbourhood he called home – looking up at the sky, trying to catch a glimpse

of his father’s devastating power – and the man foolish enough to challenge

him.

19

hours ago…..

  It was pitch black as the alarm clock rung waking Damien up from his slumber.

  With a loud grunt off dissatisfaction, he lazily slapped the snooze button and attempted to

go back to sleep – but he could still hear the ringing. Try as he may to ignore

it, the sound eventually became too irritating for even him to sleep through.

  Finally giving in, he arose, opening his eyes to search for the source of his

irritation.

  The bright light from the early morning sun peered in from behind the window lace and reflected off

his eyes, deepening the grey hue of his irises. On a normal day, he would have

used his long blue hair to shield his eyes from this annoying celestial body,

but today, his grievances were with another evil, one that dared to disturb his

rest - but still, the light beaming in was so strong that he couldn’t resist

but to close just one eye, the left, as he rose from his bed and began to look

around his room.

“Well there’s no way I’m going back to bed now.” He thought to himself as his eye glanced

over everything in the room, from the top drawer in the closet, to the stands

on the dresser and the tiny space under the couch, but he still couldn’t see

what was making that noise.

  He then had an idea. He proceeded to close his remaining eye and listen for the sound, and

to his surprise it worked. He could now get a clearer picture of where it was

coming from – It was under his bed. With a reluctant expression, he opened both

eyes, got down on his knees and reached underneath, pulling out a cherry red

alarm clock with a note attached to its face.

He pealed of the note to reveal the time was 5 o’clock in the morning, and on the

note it read

‘Wakey

wakey dumbass, hurry up getting dressed and come down for breakfast quick, I’m

not missing out on today because of your dusty ***.

-Your

misfortunate fraternal twin, Conner

P.S,

mom said if you’re late she’s eating your bacon’

“Couldn’t I have been born into a normal family!?”

He grunted aloud as both his palms ignited in a golden-orange blaze, melting

the alarm clock, and burning the note in the process. “Sigh! Guess I needed a

bath anyway.” Stating reluctantly, as he stood up and began to undress,

extinguishing the flames and whipping the molten metal sludge from the alarm

clock onto his night stand.

  After what seemed to be a very quick and thorough hot shower, he emerged from the far

right door in the corner of his room, clade in a towel that barely hung by his

waist but still managed to extenuate his thin toned muscular build, as he tied

the back of his hair into a ban and made his way to the in-wall closet that was

parallel to the foot of his bed. Upon wiping himself down, he put on his: black

low rise jeans, grey camouflage hooded vest, white trainers and black hooded

blazer. Proceeding to pack three books and a street skate board into his back

pack. As he made his way out of his room and locked the door, he veered down

the left hall to the downward stair case where he could hear some chatter from

the kitchen below, accompanied by the sounds of pot lids bashing into each

other.

“What are you doing now?” Their father Christopher

sighed with a disappointed look on his face. Besides being a tall and thinly

muscular man, he was dressed in: a white long-sleeved body fit checked dress

shirt, a long black tie, a pair of low-rise black dress pants that hung

slightly above his black high-topped trainers with a white sole, a silver

analogue wrist watch, and a pair of black colorimetric glasses over his

coral-blue irises, that complimented the three white streaks that ran across

the sides of his short black hair. “I thought I taught you better stealth

tactics than that!?” He continued, faming shock and further disappointment.

“Come on babe cut him some slack. I mean it’s not

like he’s intentionally trying to shame his ancestors with those mediocre

tactical abilities.” Monica, their mother, snickered with a spatula in her left

hand as she tried to hold back her laughter. She was dressed in: a short

black-topped flower patterned dress that barely reached her knees as it

complimented her long and curvy hour glass figure, a pair of standard white

trainers, white knee high socks, a trinket around her neck, with a white

diamond patterned kitchen apron that hung around her waist, pulling the whole

look together with her long light green hair that was tied into a ponytail -

putting her beautiful hazel eyes on full display. “Are you sure he’s really

your son?” she said as she snickered more.

“I mean I hope so, otherwise I pity the future of

this gene pool.” Christopher replied cynically, hiding his grinning face behind

the newspaper he was reading.

“Hey spare me the third degree alright; and I

thought parents were supposed to be proud when their kid’s a terrible thief!!!”

An angry Conner, who had a similar build to his brother, remarked facing both

his parents with a fiery expression on his face, as he proceeded to use his

left arm to grab the lid of the pan on the stove and lift a strip of bacon off

it with his right. He wore a: grey body fit zip-up hoodie that had a long white

stripe that ran down from his shoulders to the bottom of the jersey making it

appear as though the grey sides were just attached. A pair of grey low-rise

track pants, a brown checked body fit dress shirt, black high-top trainers, a

digital smart watch on his left wrist, and a gold letter bracelet on his right

that matched the golden hue of his irises and read ‘Tundra.’

  Without so much as a word, Monica immediately walked up to Conner and proceeded to take

the bacon out of his hand, returning the strip to the pan and covered it up

with the kitchen towel that was resting on her right shoulder, along with the

spatula she gripped in her left palm. “Not in this family kid,” she said

ecstatically as she messed her fingers through his short spikey red hair, with

her light hazel eyes fixed to his, “I mean how can we expect you to infiltrate

a military strong hold if you can’t even get passed the defences of a cooking

pot?!!” she laughed it off as Conner’s gaze grew dimer and fixed on her waist

apron.

“Hey I spent all morning on this!!” Conner struggled

animatedly as he snapped back to his senses and tried to take her fingers out

as they wedged between his roots. “Besides, I thought I told you guys that I’m

not interested in moving up to the Opps,” he muttered in a sombre tone, “I’m

much better suited for the ‘Syndicate Division’ y’know.”

“Oh my,” Monica remarked sarcastically, placing her

left arm on her chin, “First your brother and now you; It’s like my sons are

dead set on not following in their wonderful mothers footsteps; Next your

sister will tell me she’s dropping out of the ‘Opps Division’ training program!

All this stress could kill me you know.’ she said sombrely, having the sincere

moment broken by the sinister grin she gave off right after.

“Good riddance!!!” Christopher yelled as he put down

the newspaper and sipped his piping hot cup of coffee – baring no regard to the

heavy steam that fogged up his lenses as he exhaled negatively. “Sigh!! Your

coffee’s always way too cold; It’s like your intentionally trying to give me a

cold.” he remarked in a stuffy voice as he sneezed intensely.

“Uhmm dad, your cups like low-key burning hot. Plus

a cold’s caused by a virus so there’s no way you’d get sick so quickly!!!!” Conner

yelled passionately whilst faming disgust, as he pointed to the bubbling steam

that rose from Christopher’s cup. “You too are something else,” he muttered as

he began to chuckle in amusement, “Oh and that reminds me, shouldn’t Norah be

done with training by now?” he asked in a semi-concerned tone as he eased his

laughter.

  Maintaining a sickly vocal pattern, Christopher proceeded to take on a more authoritative

tone as he replied to Conner’s inquiry. “Well she should’ve been back two days

ago actually,” he stated calmly as his gaze fixed towards Monica, who was

clearing the dishes on the table with an evilly satisfied grin on her face,

“Honey?! What did you do?!” he asked as the fear of an answer turned him pale.

  Monica scoffed as if to emphasize her shock on

the matter. “Bold of you to assume I had anything to do with it,” she uttered

defensively as she slowly placed the dishes in the sink, “I mean all I did was

let her instructors know that if they didn’t put in the extra effort, then

they’d be the ones in the trainees shoes next time,” she mumbled gleefully as

she turned back to face him, “How was I supposed to predict what they’d take

away from that?” she stated, looking increasingly devilish with each passing

moment.

   At that point, both Conner and Christopher

were huddled by the farthest corner of the kitchen table, with the look of

absolute terror plastered all over their faces.

  But then, just as if on cue, Damien walked into

the room, quickly dropping his back pack by the door next to Conner’s as he

made a straight B-line for the pans on the stove, successfully braking the

tension in the room, albeit unintentionally. “Let me guess, mom was acting like

a she-devil again wasn’t she?” he remarked, as if unfazed by the thought as he

bit into a piece of toast.

 “Uhun uhun,” Conner and Christopher remarked in unisons with a fearful gulp, “She’s gone too

far this time, and none of us are safe anymore!!”

“Well that’s the fear of women for you,” Damien

remarked as his expression remained unchanged, “You know you two should be

glad; at least nobody died this time.”

  Hearing that, the two were then able to take

in a deep breath and breathe a sigh of relief as they began to collect their

thoughts. “You’re probably right!” the two uttered in unisons

“We just let our imaginations get the best of us; I

mean it’s not like she’d ever intentionally try to hurt any of us right?!!”

Christopher said as his reassurance turned pessimistic and the room drew

quieter.

  A few moments of silence went by as the

realization dawned of everybody’s heads and their faces went cold from the

revelation.

“Well I’m sure she’d like to keep the witness count

to a minimum at least!” Damien stated optimistically as he broke through the

ice. The comment led to a large burst of heavy laughter from everyone present

as the tense atmosphere was replaced by a livelier wind.

“You know you’re the only one in this family who

gets me these days,” Monica muttered sombrely and enthusiastically as she wiped

a joyful tear off her right cheek and proceeded to collect herself, “So what

gives, you’re never down so early you know. I thought you’d choose to do the

whole morning isolationist loner vibe thing until at least about 6:30?” she

said with a sarcastic and exaggerated gasp, as she bent back to rinse the

dishes in the warm water from the faucet. “Don’t tell me your 17th birthday has got you re-evaluating your terrible life choices,” she mumbled

sincerely, whipping the water from her hands onto her apron in an almost

frantic-like manner, as she placed the back of her right palm on his forehead,

“Wait you’re not sick are you; cause this definitely isn’t like the idiot I

raised?!” She stated as she mocked him in a genuinely comforting tone.“I’m fine mom! Some numb skull just decided to hide

a bunch of beeping molten sludge under my bed!!!” Damien yelled, glaring

daggers in Conner’s direction as he lightly bumped Monica’s hand off his

forehead with a flick of his right wrist.

“Nah I’m pretty sure I left my favourite clock under

there!?” Conner remarked proudly with an air of confusion in his tone.

“Oh I was speaking in the present tense! The melting

was an extra feature I added this morning, thought you might like it,” Damien

snakingly remarked with an air of cockiness as he held direct eye contact with

Conner from across the room. He proceeded to ignite the entirety of his upper

right wrist in his golden-like orange flame, following which the flames concentrated

and compressed into three miniature balls that he began to twirl in and out of

the spaces between the fingers on his right hand, “No need to be grateful!!”

  Consumed by the anger from that blatant attempt to threaten him, Conner’s entire demeanour darkened,

completely loosing himself in his rage as he smacked the table with his right

hand and stood violently to face his brother. Without even so much as a word to

address the high tension in the air, he outstretched his open left palm and

fired off a thick burst of frost in Damien’s direction. The blast was strong,

so much so that it pushed Damien back a few centimetres as it struck his right

hand and completely encased his fire marbles in a thin but strong layer of ice,

freezing them through slowly as they fell to the floor and shattered. But even

so, despite destroying something his older brother valued in retaliation, it

still couldn’t close the flood gates that held back his rage. “You asshole!! What

kind of sorry excuse for a twin even does that!! ?!!!” Conner yelled out with a

deep tone of frustration, as a cold mist began to leak from his body and filled

a small radius around him.

“Bloody e’l!!” Damien grunted hollow eyed through his clenched jaws as his arms flexed then ignited from the elbow down, blasting

apart the ice that encased them as the sheer intensity from the heat he emitted

flash boiled the cold water that sat in the pot on the countertop behind him.

With a demonic smile that barely hide his bloodlust behind the steam that drew

from its teeth, he stared Conner down as the two clashed fists at the centre of

the room in the blink of an eye – and got pushed back by the resulting cyclonic

forces that brought Conner to one knee, but left Damien standing hunched

forward as his hair covered his face and barely visible white streaks began to

flicker from the corners of his eyes. “The kind that doesn’t converse with the

dead.” Damien spoke gently in a tone void of emotion in response to Conner’s

earlier assertion, as the two temperature extremes they were imposing generated

a suction current in the space between them that pulled in any loose light

objects, including Christopher’s newspaper, as the strong wind tunnels shredded

it on sight leaving flakes behind as he grew distraught.

  Monica watched on with pride as the scene grew even more chaotic by each passing

moment, only looking phased when Christopher appeared between the two and

smacked them on the backs of their heads extinguishing the tension – to which

she promptly frowned. “Kill joy!” Monica scowled cross armed to Christopher in

a childish manner as the after image left of him in his seat dissipated.

“I know it’s your birthday and you’re exited; but if

you break anything; I will make sure you each get an assignment so horrible

you’ll remember it on your death beds,” Christopher stated begrudgingly, as he

tried to hide his annoyance with a hollow smile, “So are we in agreement to get

along?!”

“Ugh; He started it!!” Damien and Conner remarked

simultaneously as they glared daggers at one another.

“Just do it!” Christopher insisted as he squeezed

the bridge of his nose with his left hand.

“But it’s my birthday so he has to--” Conner

remarked arrogantly.

“Hey genius it’s my birthday too y’know; plus I’m

older!” Damien interjected as his unfazed demeanour returned.

 “You’re

twins; none of you is older!” Christopher stated at his wits end.

“That’s not possible!!” Conner yelled assertively.

“Says the jackass who shoots frost from his body!!”

Damien yelled back with a notable irritation.

“Since when do low-budget match sticks get an

opinion!!” Conner responded angrily as the cold air around him dissipated.

“Shut it; both of you; now shake hands and make up

already you’ll be late!!!” Christopher remarked, conveying complete and utter

authority.

“Fine!!!” Damien and Conner shouted in unisons as

they glared away from each other and reluctantly shook hands.

“Good.” Christopher said softly as his smile grew

even wider. “So how are you two idiots planning on getting to school?” he asked

as he blitzed back down to his seat before their eyes can even register what

happened.

“Well the guys were pretty adamant about us taking

the bus today; so I doubt if we’d have time to come pick up the vehicles and

still make it to the ‘R3K’ in time.” Conner stated pessimistically as he strapped

on his blue shoulder bag and tossed a Damien, who was placing his dishes in the

sink, his own – catching it with excellent precision as he placed through one

strap and used his free left hand to grab an apple off the table as he blitzed

passed Conner.

“Wait; I thought Luke was still at his aunts?”

Damien enquired, stopped midway through the living room doorway as he bit into

the apple and adjusted the strap length of his bag.

“Yeah but she’s out on a ‘Carrera Division’

assignment, so Luke’s bunking with Gerard and his older brother right now.”

Conner clarified as he pulled a metal comb out of his pocket and attempted to

correct the damage his mother had created earlier.

“And the girls will be taking their Division Placements

tests today rights; Ha-ha, so I guess their preoccupied for a while hunh!!” Damien

chuckled with a nervous yet exited grin and a sparkle in his now widened eyes.

“Oh no need to worry about that!!” Christopher

yelled ecstatically, now speaking in his normal voice with a very satisfied

grin pasted on his face, “I had all events on the organization's calendar

postponed till next week! After all, I can’t have my son pass up his only

chance to ask the girl he likes out now can I?!!; plus it’s the only civil day

your school gave you this semester so I figured you’d wanna impress her with

your newly improved fashion sense!!” He said as he patted Damien on the back

enthusiastically to convey assurance while he stretched out his left arm for a

big thumbs up. “Go get her kiddo!!”

  As if on the

same wavelength, Monica then started to dance hysterically in place as she

rubbed her shoulders and put on an extremely lustful expression that complimented

the hot vapour that rung from her long deep breathes. “Oh my, Grand babies;

Ha-ha-ha; the thought alone is enough to make you wanna--!!!”

“It’s not like that ok!!” Damien interjected as his

face turned redder than a ripe tomato, “And stop being so perverted for once;

you’re my mom for freaks sake!!!” he continued to scold her as the redness in

his face focused on his cheeks and his tone grew mellower, “I was just

wondering if we’d need to add them to any plans for today that’s all.”

“Right?!!!” Monica, Christopher and Conner yelled in

unified disbelief as their unapologetic expressions left Damien dumbfounded.

“Yeah, well what do u know anyway hunh; one of you

is about to get dumped anyway so!!!?” Damien yelled fiercely as the

embarrassment on his face was as clear as day.

“Hey, me and her are all good!!” Conner yelled back

defensively.

“I meant Dad idiot!! Mom’s way too good for him!”

Damien remarked as his embarrassment faded way – though his expression still

seemed to be heightened. Probably due to the news he had just received.

“Of course she is!” Christopher responded as he

kissed Monica’s forehead and walked back into the kitchen, an action that left

a slight blush on her ecstatic face.

“Sigh; and that’s our queue to step!!” Damien said to

Conner suggestively as his eyes rolled and he slowly dragged his right hand

from the fore to the back of his head, revealing the deep contrast in his eyes

that hide behind his long locks.

“Fi-n-ne!!” Conner dragged as he followed suite

behind him, relishing in his brothers recent shame as they both stepped out the

door and onto the concrete porch. “Aright, see you guys tonight!” he yelled

back to Monica as he made his way down the steps, who stood at the living room entrance

with a confused expression on her face.

“Wait but aren’t you supposed to come pick up the

rides after class at 2?!” Monica asked, as she looked very baffled.

“Nah, Dad texted and said he’d have them delivered!

So; I guess we can make the start of most of the onetime events at 4:30!!”

Conner optimistically yelled back in a hurry as he rushed to catch up to Damien

who had already made it to the fence.

“Alright then, take care of yourselves; and try not

to die!!!!!” Monica called out waving goodbye as she placed her left arm on her

cheek and gave off an air of parental pride as she watched Damien walk onto the

side walk and Conner chase after him.

“We gotta pick up Dean first so; no promises!!!”

Damien yelled facing down the street with an unfazed expression, as he pulled

his right arm out of his pocket and waved it in the air to signalled goodbye as

they walked out of view.

:

:

:

:

  The door barely made a sound as Monica placed her arms and back on it, leaning slowly as

she gave off a sigh of relief. It was finally time for her and Christopher to

converse in private – but the dead silence that filled the room was enough to

signal that it wouldn’t be a happy discussion.

“So are we gonna talk about--?” Monica enquired

heartedly in an inquisitive tone just as she was cut off by Christopher.

“Of all days, why’d he have to show up on the one

where I’m too tied up to help you!!?” Christopher mumbled out softly in

interjection, as a blood curdling amount of rage began to pour out from his eye

balls, causing the veins in his sclera to bulge as slight tremors began to run

down his right arm – he grabbed his long black trench coat off the back of the

kitchen door and made his way into the living room.

  Monica took a sigh of relief and slowly approached him as she sensed his tension build,

leaning in and wrapping her arms around his neck – as she stared deeply into

his eyes, causing his arm to stop shaking and his rage to die down. “Listen it

couldn’t be helped, you have to debrief with the High-table and I so happened

to be the only ‘General’ available for the task. Plus it’s my division so; have

some faith that it’ll all work out, ok!” She said in a reassuring tone with an

air of confidence as she pulled her arms back and placed her hands on the sides

of his face.

“You’re right! And I do trust that you’ll be able to do this,” Christopher said with an air of seriousness as he placed his hands

over hers, giving off an empty smile as he slowly pulled them off his faces and

gave her a kiss on the forehead, leaving her partially surprised as he leaned

down to grab his briefcase and proceeded to utter, “That being said, if

anything goes south, just pull everybody back and call me, I’ll be there in a

heartbeat--”

  Monica attempted to interject, but was unable to get a word in past Christopher’s high

conviction.

“-- Cause this time, I’ll make sure I kill him myself.’ He said, getting to an upright position as a blue flame ignited from

his feet and engulfed him in seconds, creating the impression of his body

turning to ash from the bottom going up and vanishing as the flames dissipated

upwards.

 With everyone gone, Monica was left skulking in an empty room, as she watched the scorch

marks Christopher had left behind on the white living room tiles slowly but

surely disappear.

“I swear I won’t let you escape me this time you bustard!” Monica mumbled aggressively to herself over her clenched jaw, as the

rage that filled her depths began to bubble over and project itself outside of

her body, appearing blood red as its sheer intensity caused cracks to form

along the tops and bottoms of the walls that surrounded her. “Oh my, I better

cover this up before anyone sees.” She said in a random shift of personality,

as her expression suddenly became unnervingly sunny – following which she made

her way to the living room television display and pulled a picture frame out from

underneath that seemed to be of her, Cristopher, as well as two other figures –

dusting it off as she hung it next to the formal family portrait they took when

the boys were still a bit younger, about 7 or 8 years of age. “There! Good as

new!” She said still maintaining a sunny disposition as she stared deeply at

one figure in the photo whose face could not be made out clearly – but one

thing was clear, it was definitely taken during a happier time as the figure

appeared to be twirling around, her long blue floral patterned dress waving in

the wind with its frills and slits along each side, complimenting her long dark

hair as well as the two golden streaks that ran parallel along it. “I wonder? Would

you have done things differently??? If it was you that got to live instead of me,

could you have changed it?” She pondered, speaking to the photo as her

expression turned somber – when the cell phone in her pocket began to vibrate,

snapping her back to her senses as she was wiped away her tears and answered it.

“Yeah sure; Let them know we’re having it at 2’o clock; Oh and Sarah! Keep the quote

on quote accidents to a minimum this time!!”

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