“Master!” A distant voice called out to him. “You're awake!” What? Where? The battle! His eyes snapped open in a jolt. He reached out, trying to use his domain, but something stopped him. “Don't do that, you're in bad shape.” Ah, it was him. His hazy eyes landed on Crow's hooded figure. “So it was you…” His lips were dry, he couldn't speak properly. Slowly licking them, he paid no heed to his suit's flashing indicators, instead trying to focus on this man's darkened features. Was he… confused? When he let his suit retreat from his face to let his eyes take in more natural light, he saw his expression shift drastically.

“Master!” He spurted out, shocked. “You…” Before he could continue, Slava interrupted him. “I told you not…” to call me that. He fell silent once he noticed it. He'd unconsciously moved his hand to his face. Ripples on his skin? Scars? No… wrinkles. As he’d moved his hand in front of him and his empty hand was revealed, Slava almost gasped in shock. His hair and beard had grown whiter and longer, and his skin was also dryer. He sighed, lowering his hand to the ground, and letting his head lean against the wall behind him. He'd grown older, what exactly happened? How far did he go?

No, this wasn't the time, from the looks of it they were still in Henosis, they had to get out of here first. Meeting his complicated gaze, Crow spoke. “Would you like me to bring you to the others?” He could heal from this with time, but he had to rest. And Sasha wouldn't probably be too pleased with his current appearance. Smiling, he looked down at his other still suit-covered palm. In it were the seeds, glowing with a mysterious neon green hue.

“No,” he said, clenching his fist. “Bring me to Thorn.” Crow's eyes shook for a moment before he sinisterly smiled like he always did. Seeing this, Slava took it as his understanding and put the seeds into his mouth. Feeling his quasi-limp body being picked up, Slava bit on them.

“As you wish, my liege.” This guy really didn't want to leave it alone. With weak green mist escaping from his mouth and nose, Slava slowly passed out with a smile on his face. That's when Crow stood up, looking to the side where the sound of commotion was getting louder and louder before being enveloped in a cloud of dark smoke.

“Slava, Slava…” he heard a distant voice calling out to him. “Hey, little star, you know the food isn't going to eat itself.” Wait, he knew that voice. The child looked up from his plate. “You should also eat, Akasha, stop focusing on your brother so much.” His mother was gorgeous, even in her humble garb, her carefully tressed hair showing the care she put into her appearance. She was almost a picture-perfect copy of her daughter, their biggest difference being their eyes. She had tender green eyes which overflowed with motherly love, while Akasha's were sharp and scrutinizing even when she attentionally smiled at her brother.

Akasha… Slava felt his heart clench up. What was this? Where was this? Why was she here? And he…

“No, father!” Akasha suddenly shouted out. “Our people are suffering! And the weak just simply have to endure, bite their time? A world ruled by the strong? Preposterous, then what about the children? The Union is bound to crumble if that's how things are supposed to be.” When they'd started talking, the child had spaced out, he didn't understand what they were talking about. But their conversation kept getting louder and louder until he had no choice but to lend an ear.

“Akasha, be careful of what you say!” Their father finally said in an authoritarian tone. It was the first time Slava listened to him speak. His appearance wasn't menacing, in fact, his dishevelled blond hair, mixed with his deep blue eyes. Made him look serene and composed. But now his demeanor had completely changed. The way he frowned while meeting his daughter's gaze made the young boy flinch. The mother who'd been silent until now spoke with a soft yet threatening tone.

“Dear, I think we should leave it at that for today.” His eyes slowly crossed hers before landing on the seemingly frightened child. “Yes, I think you're right,” he said, his expression softening as he smiled at his boy.

“No! I can not accept this!” His sister suddenly stood up. “You see? This is why we're stuck here! This is why we can't break away from this vicious cycle! We keep willingly ignoring it just because we fear it!” The man of the house's eyes were now stone-cold, showing no emotions as he calmly spoke. “Akasha…” but she continued as if she hadn't heard him.

“This is what the revolutionary army fights for! We will conquer our fears! We will rebuild our future in the image of the west! We will take back our freedom! Our cities will flourish and soar into even greater heights…” She was entranced in her speech. She looked like she would never stop until the sound of something shattering resounded throughout the room. When it did, the room fell into silence and every gaze turned toward its source. Their father's hand was bleeding, he'd shattered the glass of water he was holding.

No one dared to say a word. Akasha, who'd been standing up this entire time, slowly sat back down under his scrutinizing gaze, while the child in front of her was left fear-stricken, clenching his mother's hand so hard that she began to bleed. Despite all of that, still, no one dared to move. It was like the world had been frozen.

Slava was shocked, he couldn't understand this. It was like a standstill. But why? His family…

“Ding… Dong!” Their mother slightly shook at the sound of the doorbell ringing. As the child was distracted and slowly released his grasp on his mother's hand, the father stood up, glancing toward the door. The room's eyes followed him until he stopped, bowing down to witness what stood behind it.

This was the first time Slava saw his father show this expression. The child seemed to have noticed it too because he grew even paler. It was fear. Although that fear didn't seem to paralyze him as he spread his hands out in front of him. Following his gesture, his back began to glow, electric arcs crackling around him.

“Go! Now!” He screamed without looking back, his widened eyes turning bloodshot as his whole body shook. Before he had the chance to understand what was going on, his mother dragged away the child. She hadn't hesitated. As soon as she’d heard her husband's words, she’d rushed towards the back, dragging her son along with her, while Akasha followed. They both knew what was going on when he clearly didn't.

“Akasha!” His mother screamed as she stopped to pick the child up in her arms. He saw as her shock turned to determination. Her eyes lit up, and she ran past them to the balcony. Almost immediately after she left his sight, he heard the sound of the balcony door opening. She'd jumped…

Slava looked at his father, peaking over his mother's shoulder, his imposing crackling figure standing in the doorway. For some reason, he looked to be sweating and when their bright blue eyes finally met, he smiled, his skin beginning to melt, showing signs of bone. This was the first time he saw him smile so genuinely.

Slava couldn't even register his shock as the front door was blown away. And almost instinctively, without looking back, as if she'd felt it, his mother moved to embrace him. Watching her tears fall onto his face, he looked up just in time to see her resigned expression, before a shockwave spread through his body.

Blinking, his vision slowly cleared up. Mother… He could see two blurry faces, one covered in blood, holding the other one's head. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but the crouched figure soon stood up, and the other slowly crawled to his side. She was telling him something, but he couldn't hear, his head was ringing, and he felt something soft touch his cheek as his eyelids closed again.

When he opened them back up, he didn't know how much time had passed. There was blood, dead bodies, rubble everywhere no sign of his home or his family until he turned his head…

“Good morning, little star,” his mother softly whispered. His dazed expression soon twisted and tears began to flow. Right next to him, leaning on the same piece of rubble, was his mother, covered in blood. As he turned his body to face her, he grabbed her hand, dropping his gaze and closing his eyes. Weakly moving the hand he had grabbed, she reached out for his cheek.

“Don't cry, you'll be alright,” she smiled, whipping off his tears. No matter what she told him or how much she tried, she couldn't get his tears to stop flowing. But no matter how much he cried, there was one thing she wouldn't let him do. While barely being able to keep her eyes open, she would grab him, distract him, anything to stop him from looking around. She wouldn't let his gaze leave her. Anything to stop him from witnessing the horrors going on around them.

As she was talking to a clearly not listening Slava, her gaze suddenly shifted behind him, relief washing over her face. Softly smiling, an indiscernible whisper left her lips. Closing her eyes, the hand that was grabbing his gradually went limp.

“Slava, Slava… SLAVA!”

Amongst all the chaos, a young girl was rushing towards him, screaming his name. Seeing the fruitlessness of her effort, she accelerated her pace, almost stumbling over the corpse of a dying soldier. When she finally reached him she tripped, falling over him, but even then, the child kept crying, paying no heed to his surroundings. “You can’t be serious! Slava! Snap out of it, we have to go!” said the young girl while recovering.

She shook him a couple of times before turning his head, forcing his dull blue eyes to cross hers. “Listen to me, Slava, I’ve found where the Americans are hiding! If we follow them, we might have…” She suddenly halted her words. Finally, noticing, in all the chaos, what her brother was holding without letting go.

Even though he was looking at her, his gaze was empty. Instinctively, as soon as she had stopped talking, the boy’s tearful gaze dropped back to the unmoving body. “Mama will wake up, right? I just have to wait a little longer, then we’ll…” before he could finish his words, she embraced him.

“No Slava…” she said with difficulty, “Mama and Papa are…” she choked on her words. “They're not coming back.” These words hit Slava like a truck. The image of his father melting away, the sight of his mother slowly dying before him, her skin growing cold. His eyes were flooded with emotions that he didn't understand. Unable to restrain himself, he burst out in a piercing cry that slowly melded into the surrounding chaos.

Before he knew it, Slava's eyelids closed under the weight of his sorrow. When he woke back up, he found himself on his sister's back. He could feel the air getting colder under the ominous grey sky. He could only imagine how she’d struggled through the frozen streets, trying to move forward, past the fighting Awakened, the crackling lightning and crumbling buildings.

As he moved his arms around her neck, she took a turn into a dark alley. After walking a few more steps and making sure no one was following them, she finally lowered him to the ground. Without a word, Akasha smiled, extending her arm. Returning her smile, he grabbed her hand, and they continued through the foggy street. He was scared, the street looked endless and felt suffocating. He wanted to leave this place as soon as possible… As he was thinking that, he felt something tugging at his arm. Akasha was behind him. Tugging at his arm, she was barely keeping up with him. He was so engrossed in escaping that he didn't notice her. She was panting, but when their eyes met, she simply smiled, signalling for him to keep moving. Slava didn't think much of it. He didn't like this place. They needed to leave now.

As they began approaching the end of this sinister alley, Slava started to hear audible cheers and muffled voices getting louder and clearer. With elated breath, he lunged toward the crowded square when he was once again grabbed from behind. Too shocked to react, he let himself be dragged into a deserted building. Falling onto the ground, he crossed eyes with his exhausted sister, catching her breath, leaning on a nearby wall.

Slava was tired and worried, but seeing his sister in such a state stopped him from complaining. After she regained her breath, they started to climb the building's stairs, the cheering outside only getting louder.

“I promise you peace and prosperity under a new rule!” Step after step, the grey walls, imprinted themselves into his mind. His legs were going numb, but he didn't falter, stopping only to wait for his sister.

“This is the end of the Bàn Shéns’ rule over us, the end of the Lightning God's tyranny!” As if replying to his words, the sound of thunder roared. “Do not fear! It is how they control us! The West is with us!” The loud voice was drowned by cheers when they finally reached the top.

Hearing unidentifiable voices coming from the next room, he turned to his sister. He was about to say something when she put her hand in front of his mouth, signalling for him to keep quiet.

They got closer and closer. Slava couldn't understand what the people were saying, but he could tell they were arguing. One was complaining, while the other kept interrupting him. Slava knew it was English, but he still couldn't understand them. There was only one word he understood, and it made him shiver; 'Scern'.

Slava was shaken, but the child wasn't, and when he came back to his senses, the child was already crouched in a corner, watching his sister nervously walk through the doorway. He was covering his ears. He couldn't move, she said she would come back, he had to listen. When he listened, it always went well.

Despite all the noise and chaos, he stayed put. First, the cheers stopped, morphing into screams and desperate cries, followed by the sound of thunder and explosions.

“Don't move, don't listen. Don't move, don't listen. Don't move, don't listen.” He shook, whispering the same words over and over, staring at the floor. He sat there, unfazed until something new came into his vision. Taking his hands off of his ears for a moment, just in time to hear the explosion, he froze in fear.

Looking up, his eyes met the pieces of glass and rubble now scattered around him. Dazedly, he completely let go of his ears.

“Not bad, you have potential, I've never seen an awakening like yours before!” A voice thundered, seemingly impressed. “It's a shame the Tānlán didn't recognize your talent, isn't it?” He recognized this way of speaking. The bad people always talked that way.

Despite knowing this, he couldn't help himself. With now much calmer surroundings, his body almost moved on its own toward the mesmerizing voice. Crawling past the unrecognizable doorway, paying no heed to his now injured hands, he scanned the layout of the room and was instantly absorbed by the scene that lay beyond the shattered glass walls. A sea of blood, innumerable charred corpses, some still seemingly squirming others unrecognizable. It was as if a gruesome play had taken place, but in some twisted way, the spectators had become part of it.

“You monster…” he heard his sister say as she spat. Moving his eyes to follow the source of the sound, he was petrified. There, in the middle of the room, was his sister, half-naked, her clothes tattered, her back glowing as she was being held by the neck. The imposing man holding her was floating in the air, dressed in luxurious traditional cloth, blue lightning spreading through his surroundings. His most discerning characteristic was his long white hair flowing in the cold breeze.

Somehow, overshadowing him was the warm glow coming from his sister's back. A warm glow that calmed him down. It came from a single feather encrusted into her skin, surrounded by all kinds of patterns and familiar circuitry, emphasizing the plume's majesty.

“Oh?” The man said as their eyes finally met. Akasha's expression shifted as she also noticed him. “Slava run!” She screamed in horror. But whether it was because of fear or the man in front of him, the child couldn't move. As soon as their blue eyes intertwined, it was as if he'd been ensnared by a spell.

Leaving his sister floating in the air, he moved toward Slava. All she could do was watch as he got closer and closer. When he got close enough, he flicked his finger and the child felt his body float into the air until their eyes were inches away from each other.

Akasha's screams were ignored as the fear-stricken child turned under the man's gaze. Once in a while, he would stroke him, seemingly enjoying his sister's reactions.

“What beautiful eyes he has,” he said, grabbing him by the chin. Looking from one eye to the other, he suddenly froze. “I wonder…” he said, releasing his chin and backing off. “I remember Blizzard mentioning something about stimulating talent through pain and suffering…” he turned to Akasha, whose face was now dripping with tears. “No, please… let him go… I'll do anything…” her face twisted. “I wonder…” he murmured, a smile creeping up his face. “Would I finally be able to face a worthy opponent?” He turned back towards the child, ignoring his sister's pleas.

“If only Shén allowed us to fight directly,” he shook his head, lightly grazing the child's arm. He himself didn't seem to notice his gesture until his sister's bloodcurdling scream. “I'll kill you, bitch!” She screamed. “You fucking bitch! Let him go!”

Feeling a slight itch in his arm, he looked down and that's when his charred arm fell onto the floor. “Humans are so fragile.” At that moment, it was like a switch had been flipped in his brain, whether it was from shock or exhaustion, his face twisted into an ugly expression, and his dry, tearless eyes closed by themselves.

“Already? Well, we can still have some fun. The cries would've annoyed me anyway,” he heard the man say before losing consciousness.

When he opened his eyes again, his vision was hazy. He could hear his sister's sorrowful cries as she constantly whispered something into his ear. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” She murmured. “I'm sorry, little star, I couldn't protect you…” a much more overpowering voice soon reached his ears.

“Well, this was disappointing, I'll have to bring it up at the next council.” Slava could only vaguely see his figure standing behind her. “Don't worry, Slava, everything will be alright.”

As he tried to move, he felt numbness spread through his entire body. Something was clearly wrong with him. In that moment, looking at his sister's blurry face, he finally understood what was going on and weakly moved his lips. When nothing came out, he felt his sister move closer, and with all of his strength he whispered. “I'm sorry.” He heard his unfamiliarily hoarse voice say as some cold wetness spread to his eyes, his vision reddening.

Akasha shook before embracing him. “It's okay,” she managed to say after some time. “You'll soon meet with papa and mama… and you'll… be happy,” she almost choked on her words.

Slava felt his eyes getting heavier. And in a final effort that took all of his strength, he managed to let out a question. “But… what about you?” and as if to answer his question, he saw a hazy, ghostly figure appear behind his sister. He was looking at her, his gaze cold yet somehow caring. Black and white hair, sharp blue eyes, crossed arms and an outfit that felt out of this world. Seeing this, his lips curved up.

For a second, their eyes crossed during which he lightly raised one eyebrow before the man's gaze turned to us…