Fallen Star

Chapter 2

I should have known this would happen. Frankly, only an idiot wouldn't have seen this coming. It had been years since I last dealt with a Malefic user. People were crafty; they innovated. They changed. It was only natural for the drug to have been improved upon and altered since the last time I had to face off against its addicts. I should have seen this coming.

And now I was gonna die for it.

But I was furious.

Me, die to a Malefic drug user!? No way in hell. That was something that I refused to let happen. All our hard work, all their sacrifices, their deaths... As the witness to all of that, as their successor, as the last survivor, no way was I gonna shove all that down the drain by dying here to this bastard.

I was one of those who struggled against evils like this. I was one of those who triumphed against evil. I brought peace. I fought for peace. I fought alongside them. I carried their legacy. Call me a fool, an erroneous heir, an improper heir, someone who didn't deserve or act like a person who lived up to those shining legends, but I was one of them.

I couldn't die here.

I threw my gun to the ground just as the goon brought back his massive fist. My free hand was already clenching, and adrenaline rushed through my body like water in a broken dam. It was now or never.

I would not die here.

Not to the kind of person I hated most.

My knuckle began crashing forward just as I was staring down my impending doom in the form of the goon's fist. His punch was rocketing towards me so much faster and it was so much larger than my scrawny body. I was still going, though.

Then a light showed up; so blinding I had to screw my eyes shut and look away. Whether it was coming from in front of me, from above me, or within me, I didn't know. But I felt my fingers grip something hard and cold. Whispers of power and strength wove their way up my arm and though I was still blinded, I felt a rush of confidence burst through my body.

With a last shout, I thrust my arm forward... And the light dissipated.

I blinked, not sure if I just blacked out or if I just warped through time for a few seconds. I was suddenly aware of a crushing weight on my right arm and I looked down, only to see the body of the goon flopped down upon me. Appalled, I shook him off and stepped back, but it took way more work than I thought it would. He was like jelly; he plopped onto the ground without a fuss and I was sure that he was knocked out. That's when I saw the blood and realized he was bleeding out all over the dirt. Fights with rowdy Alphas could get pretty violent, but I didn't have the tools to cause a stab wound.

That's when I noticed it.

My right arm, covered in blood𑁋the goon's blood𑁋and gripping a shining silver sword. My hand was firmly clamped around the handle and though it had just been buried into the dirty flesh of an Alpha criminal, the blade was pure silvery-white and without a single stain. It was a long sword, with a triangular blade that tapered at the end and embedded with clear bevels. On closer inspection, it seemed to be shimmering like moondust with faint but beautiful and mysterious carvings woven into the steel.

Where the hell did this come from!?

A wave of panic washed over me and I looked at the Alpha goon. He was definitely bleeding out, but he was breathing. I didn't stab any vital organs it seemed. A rush of relief punched me in the gut so hard it knocked all the panic out of me and I felt myself breathing again. I mean, I'd done my job; this bastard wasn't going to mess with Omegas anymore. He'd learned his lesson.