The Beach

  Isaac ripped the heavy iron door from its hinges with a grunt of exertion.

  He didn't just leave it there. He tossed the massive slab of metal toward the ocean like a frisbee, watching it splash into the waves far from shore. Turning back, he stomped heavily on the edge of the tunnel entrance, collapsing the sand and dirt inward, burying the secret passage.

  "That should buy us some time," Isaac muttered, dusting his hands.

  He turned to leave, and froze.

  Two figures stood on the dunes, watching them. They wore sleek, dark armor and porcelain masks that revealed nothing.

  "Ah, shit," Isaac groaned. "Guards?"

  "No..." Freya whispered, her voice tightening. "Not Guards."

  "What do you want?" Isaac called out.

  "You," the woman, Safira, replied. Her voice was calm, deadly. "The Fallen King of Olympia."

  Freya’s face went white. She grabbed her scythe, her knuckles turning white.

  "ISAAC, RUN! IT'S SAFIRA!"

  Freya didn't wait. She launched herself at the assassin, her weapon a blur of steel. Safira didn't flinch, parrying the scythe with a pair of daggers.

  At the same moment, the male assassin, Lican, vanished. He reappeared instantly beside Isaac, lashing out with a short sword. Isaac leaped back, barely dodging the strike.

  Freya glanced back, panic in her eyes. "No, no, no..."

  "You should focus on me, dear," Safira taunted, deflecting another blow. "Let the boys play."

  "The bounty on Isaac’s head is big enough to attract the Cowardly Clan of Assassins?" Freya spat.

  Safira paused, tilting her head. "Isaac?"

  Freya disengaged, lunging again, but Safira danced away. Suddenly, a strange, ethereal light began to glow around Freya.

  Safira tensed, preparing for a spell. But the light wasn't coming from Freya—it was consuming her.

  Freya’s eyes widened in realization.

  "No... ISAAC! RUN! RU—"

  POP.

  Freya vanished. Gone. As if she had never existed.

  "FREYA!" Isaac screamed, his voice tearing at his throat.

  Safira lowered her daggers, confused. Lican teleported to her side, sheathing his blade.

  "She disappeared completely," Safira murmured.

  "Then our job just got easier," Lican shrugged.

  "What did you do to her?!" Isaac roared, his fists trembling.

  "Doesn't matter what we did or didn't do," Lican said, bored. "Our job is to capture you. So, how about you come quietly, Fallen King?"

  Safira was staring intently at Isaac.

  "What is the target's name?" she whispered to Lican.

  Lican rolled his eyes behind his mask. "What? Why now? I thought you hated knowing the names. Ugh... (sigh). I think it's Isaac. Happy?"

  Isaac watched them bickering. He glanced up at the darkening sky. Freya is gone. I'm alone against two high-tier assassins. I need an exit.

  "Wait," Safira said, stepping forward. "I need to see something. You... Fallen King. Reveal your face!"

  "Why would I do that?" Isaac scoffed.

  "Yeah," Lican added, genuinely confused. "Why would he do that, Safira?"

  "There is something strange about his," she insisted. "I need to confirm it."

  Isaac looked from one to the other.

  This might be my only chance.

  Slowly, he reached up. He pulled back his hood. Then, he unclasped his mask, letting it fall to the sand.

  He looked Safira dead in the eye.

  "Incredible..." Lican breathed, stepping back. "He's not an Elf. He looks Human. From the extinct Earth? That's rare, huh, Safira? ...Safira?"

  Safira stood frozen. Her daggers slipped from her nerveless fingers, thumping onto the sand.

  She fell to her knees, trembling violently. And then, she collapsed forward, unconscious.

  "SAFIRA!" Lican shouted, catching her before she hit the ground.

  NOW.

  Isaac raised his hand to the heavens.

  Lican looked up, realizing too late what was happening.

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  KRAKOOOM.

  A massive bolt of lightning tore through the atmosphere, answering Isaac’s call. It slammed into his palm, wreathed in blinding white energy.

  Lican’s eyes widened in terror. He hoisted Safira over his shoulder.

  Isaac didn't hesitate. He hurled the bolt.

  "GRAAAH!"

  Lican teleported away a split second before impact. The lightning bolt struck the dune where they had been standing, exploding outward with the force of a bomb. The beam of energy didn't stop—it shot horizontally across the landscape, illuminating the sky for miles around.

  Nearby Village

  Derek squinted against the sudden brightness. "Look... what is that?"

  Mia gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes instantly.

  "Isaac..." she sobbed. "That's a lightning bolt. He's close! We have to go!"

  "Lightning?" Derek asked, confused. "What's a lightning?"

  "Mia, wait!"

  But she was already running toward the horizon, fueled by hope. The others scrambled to follow her.

  The Dragon Palace – Royal Dining Hall

  The crystal chandeliers rattled softly.

  "...so she said—ah, of course! Do you want a license to be the Court Jester too?" Ryu laughed loudly, swirling his wine.

  Polite laughter rippled around the long table.

  "Alright, alright," Yamato chuckled, raising his goblet. "A toast. To family. Especially mine."

  Everyone raised their glasses. Aiko sat quietly, staring into her wine, her expression hollow.

  Ryu stood up, clearing his throat. "I want to take advantage of everyone's presence here."

  Aiko looked up sharply. "Ryu, what are you doing?"

  "Lord Yamato," Ryu began, ignoring her. "Second Father of Dragons, father of the beautiful Princess Aiko, and my beloved Father-in-law... I want to ask for your permission. Permission to give you the greatest gift a father could want from his daughter."

  He grinned.

  "A grandson."

  Aiko went pale. "WHAT?"

  Applause broke out around the table. Yamato looked at his daughter, then at Ryu. Finally, he glanced at Queen Sasaki, whose face was unreadable.

  "You have my permission," Yamato declared.

  "FATHER!" Aiko cried out, standing up.

  "It is for the best, my daughter," Yamato said dismissively.

  "Do you have any idea what you're saying?!" Aiko shouted, tears streaming down her face.

  She turned to run.

  BOOOOM.

  A blinding flash lit up the night outside. The shockwave hit the palace a second later. Every window in the Great Hall shattered inward, showering the guests in glass.

  The Ancient Dragons at the table stood up instantly, their eyes glowing. Aiko fell to her knees, trembling.

  "The Mother Lightning..." she whispered, staring at the electrified sky. "It's Isaac. He's near."

  The room fell silent. Everyone stared at the display of raw power outside.

  Aiko closed her eyes. She reached out with her senses, sniffing the air like a predator tracking a scent. In her mind's eye, she saw him. Running. Alone. Desperate.

  "He is in Valoon..." she choked out. "Near the Hell Border."

  Yamato’s eyes widened. He exchanged a dark look with the Ancient Dragons.

  Aiko saw Isaac stopping by a lake, splashing water on his face. She opened her eyes, determination replacing the fear.

  "Isaac... Come back..."

  She stood up.

  "I'm going after him."

  "Daughter, no!" Sasaki exclaimed.

  "Aiko, stop!" Ryu barked, stepping in her path. "I do not give you permission to leave!"

  "ENOUGH!"

  Yamato’s voice shook the very foundations of the castle.

  "Aiko! Go to your room immediately. I will speak with you shortly."

  "But Father, I—"

  "I SAID NOW!"

  Aiko flinched. She turned and fled the hall, sobbing. Sasaki shot a worried look at her husband before rushing after her daughter.

  Yamato stared out the broken window at the fading lightning.

  "We need to send reinforcements to the Hell Border," he commanded, his voice grave. "I feel something is about to happen. Something that will change everything."

  The Dunes

  SPLASH.

  Cold water hit Safira’s face. She gasped, jerking awake, coughing up seawater.

  "What happened? Where are we?" she stammered, looking around frantically.

  "We had to run. That’s what happened," Lican replied, wringing out his wet cloak. "And what the hell was that, Safira? Asking questions in the middle of a job?"

  Safira sighed, rubbing her pounding temples.

  "Great. A sigh," Lican muttered. "That’s your answer? Seriously? I don't even want to imagine what Mother will do when she finds out about this failure."

  Safira ignored him, her ears twitching. She looked toward a cluster of rocks.

  "Did you hear that?"

  THWIP.

  An arrow whistled through the air, aimed straight for Lican’s throat. He reacted instantly, tilting his head just enough for the shaft to graze his mask.

  "Well, look at that... he's actually fast," a voice laughed.

  Derek stepped out from behind a dune, spinning a bow in his hand. Behind him, a dozen armed figures—The Renegades—emerged from the shadows, surrounding the assassins.

  "Who are you? What do you want?" Safira demanded, reaching for her daggers.

  "We are The Renegades," Derek grinned, nocking another arrow. "And we’re hunting you."

  "Why?" Lican asked, genuinely confused.

  Black smoke swirled in the center of the circle. It condensed, taking the form of a young woman. Mia stepped out of the darkness, her eyes glowing with menace.

  "Why?" she repeated softly, smiling. "Because you don't get to touch Isaac."

  The Border Village – The Rusty Tankard

  Isaac pushed open the wooden doors of the tavern. The air smelled of stale ale and sweat. He walked to the counter, ignoring the stares, and ordered a drink.

  "Need something else?" the barkeep grunted, wiping a glass.

  "Yeah. A carriage," Isaac said, taking a sip.

  The barkeep paused. "We have stables out front."

  "Not that kind," Isaac said, his voice low. "The kind that doesn't ask questions."

  He slid a heavy pouch of coins across the scratched wood.

  The barkeep glanced at the pouch, then looked left and right. He leaned in.

  "Behind the tavern. There’s an old man loading crates. Tell him you need to see your family. He’ll understand."

  "Thanks."

  Isaac finished his drink in one gulp and headed out the back exit. In the alleyway, a grimy old man was securing a tarp over a rickety wooden cart.

  "Hey."

  The Old Man didn't look up. "What do you want?"

  "I need to see my family," Isaac recited. "In Hell."

  The Old Man stopped. He looked around the alley, checking for guards.

  "Hop in. We leave in five minutes."

  "Okay."

  Isaac climbed into the back of the cart. It was cramped. Huddled in the corner were a man, a woman, and a young girl. Refugees.

  Isaac nodded to them and settled into a dark corner. He peered through a gap in the canvas. The Old Man climbed into the driver's seat and snapped the reins.

  As they approached the massive border gates, tension filled the cart. The wagon stopped.

  Isaac activated his Sight. His vision shifted, turning the wooden walls transparent. He watched the Old Man speaking to the Hell Kingdom guards, handing over a few coins. The guards laughed and waved him through.

  "Shit..." Isaac whispered, relaxing his grip on his dagger.

  The cart lurched forward, crossing the line. Isaac let out a long breath. Made it.

  "First time in Hell?"

  Isaac turned. The man in the corner was smiling nervously.

  "You could say that."

  "Don't worry," the man assured him. "Just keep your head down, don't touch anything, and you'll be fine."

  "I'll remember that."

  "I'm Kenji," the man said, extending a hand. "Pleasure to meet you. This is my wife, Aya, and my beautiful daughter, Olivia."

  The little girl waved shyly.

  "Pleasure to meet you all," Isaac said, shaking Kenji's hand. He hesitated for a split second. "My name is... Joe."

  "Joe," Kenji nodded. "Strong name."

  They shared a smile as the cart rattled deeper into the dark forest of the Hell Kingdom. Isaac leaned back, closing his eyes.