Chapter 8: The Lioness

It is difficult for me to recall with absolute clarity the extraordinary events that have become my life. As my time slowly draws to its end, I find myself reminiscing about the present more so than the past. I suppose the reason for that is that I have always had to focus on what is right in front of me. But now, I find myself needing to prepare for the future, and that is why I must leave something behind so that future generations do not repeat my mistakes.

The Dark Creature taunted him. In the darkness, he heard it laughing in its cold, vile voice. It blamed him for their deaths. Ryan saw flashes of lightning, the Dark Creature wielding a huge, demonic sword and chopping through hundreds of Elven warriors at a time like a knife through butter. It reached out to grab him, its black-scaled hand glinting with silver claws. The beast wanted him … wanted to drag him down to the depths of hell with it. He was going to die.

And then he woke up.

Ryan sat up with a start in his home … and by home, he meant a small hut that he put together from cardboard, wood, and anything else he could find. A hodgepodge of pilfered goods, half-eaten apple cores, and broken bottles littered the ground surrounding a pile of old newspapers, magazines and bits of dirty clothes that served as Ryan’s makeshift bed. Not the most eloquent of abodes in looks or fragrance, but for a lowly orphan child scraping on the streets, it was a hard-earned comfort.

The cardboard castle lay in an old alleyway and was fortunately out of the rain, except in the most severe of storms. Ryan even put a dirty old rug over the entrance, so it almost felt like a real home. He still couldn’t believe his luck in finding the place. So far, nobody had come to bother him, not even the Preservers knew where he lived.

The hideout sat in a pretty remote region at the edge of town. From there at the top of a hill, Ryan had an eagle-eyed view of the rest of Tarrus. Technically, the entire planet of Tarrus was one giant conglomerate of a city. Even though people often called Fernady a town, the place acted as just a small, poor region of the bigger city that was the planet of Tarrus itself. Ryan had sometimes tried to venture out of Fernady, but the Patrollers always deterred him and sent him back. Something about not having the right permits.

Ryan rose, groaning, observing the cramped confines of his deficient home, and became startled to discover Hannah Lioness sitting next to him.

She gave him a motherly smile rarely revealed. “You finally awake, moron? I was getting worried.”

            Ryan’s head felt like a bunch of brownies had crawled inside and threw a drunken party. “What just happened?” he groaned.

            Hannah’s expression hardened. “You inhaled some strangling gas. It forces your throat to constrict, making it impossible for the lungs to receive air. Fortunately, I’ve run across some before and I know how to counter it.”

            Ryan started sitting up. “How the heck did you-” Then he looked down at his chest and perceived a long, thin glass tube sticking between his pectorals. “AAAAAAH!”

Hannah put her hand on his chest and spoke soothingly. “It’s okay. I’m a professional at this sort of thing.”

“What the heck is that supposed to mean?! There’s a freakin’ shard of glass as long as an ant-eater’s tongue sticking into my nipple! How is this okay?!” 

Hannah gave him one of those looks, much like his mom used to give him when he said something dumb. “You remember what I told you, right? While you were in the grip of the strangling gas, you couldn’t get any air into your lungs. That glass is shaped like a straw. It allowed me to bypass your throat and introduce oxygen back into your system, at least until the effects of the gas wore off. That ‘freakin’ shard of glass is what kept you alive.”

Ryan couldn’t help but feel a little stupid as he rubbed his head sheepishly. “Oh, Um. Thanks, I guess. I suppose that is kinda’ cool.”

Hannah nodded. “You’re lucky. If I hadn’t sensed that something was amiss, you’d be singing your last song.”

A new question came to mind as Ryan thought about things a little more carefully. “Hey, wait a second! How’d you get past those motion-sensitive laser cameras?”

Hannah gave him a face that almost seemed like sarcasm. “I ran really, really fast.”

Ryan wanted to inquire further when he noticed the singed robes as well as several burns on Hannah’s arms and legs showing through the cloth. He realized that she had risked her life to save his. Still, she had been lucky to walk away with only minor burns. Those lasers could vaporize someone at point-blank range.

She must be as fast as mom to be able to avoid those lasers.

At that moment, Ryan could hardly recall a time when he felt more ashamed of himself. He had given Hannah a hard time, and she nearly fries herself like a piece of bacon trying to save his sorry hide. He felt like the lowest of the low-leveled lifeforms. “I think I owe you an apology,” said Ryan humbly.

Hannah gave him a pitying look. “Do you think, or do you know, Ryan Uruks?”

Ryan sighed and finally conceded, “Okay. I apologize. If I had only listened to you, none of this would’ve happened. I wouldn’t have a deadly straw sticking in my chest, and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I’m really sorry.”

Hannah’s expression softened. “Apology accepted.”

Ryan began to realize that something else didn’t quite add up. “How’d Shaver Creed get his hands on something like that blue gas? And more importantly, how was he smart enough to use it like that? I once saw him spend hours in heated battle trying to pry open a can of beans. The beans won!”

Hannah’s face suddenly turned cold and calculating, like she had thought about that herself. “I’m not sure, Ryan. I can tell you with certainty that Shaver Creed shouldn’t have been able to get his hands on that gas. It’s a top-dollar item, usually reserved for professional assassins. The fact that he had some rigged to his safe can only mean that someone gave it to him … someone with a great deal of affluence.”

Ryan rubbed his chin suspiciously. “You know, for a missionary, you seem to know a lot about assassination stuff.”

Hannah smiled again, this time more playfully. “I never said I was a missionary, kid. I only told you that I’m here to help.” Hannah then carefully removed the thin piece of glass and quickly put a bandage on the wound. The bandage absorbed a small trickle of blood.

“Can you teach me that trick sometime?” asked Ryan hopingly.

Hannah carefully cleaned the glass tube with a handkerchief while she spoke. “This is an old technique that I learned from some Mermaid surgeons. It’s better used for their kind since they live underwater and water flows better than air, but I have adapted it to be used for humans. It’s very tricky to master. For instance, if I had stabbed you in any other place besides the precise spot that I did, you would be dead. And there’s not a treatment for that either.” Hannah said it so matter-of-factly that Ryan felt chills going up his spine.

Ryan had one more question to ask her while she seemed so talkative, but he dreaded the answer. “Do you think that strangling gas trap was meant for me personally?”

Hannah didn’t answer right away; she preoccupied herself with her doctor's bag for storing the tools of surgery. Judging by the looks of her equipment, she was pretty well off. She then rose to her feet, or at least crouched since Ryan’s box didn’t have enough room to stand in. “Ryan, I need you to come and stay with me at my home.”

Again, Ryan sat speechless, and he had to admit, a little embarrassed to be invited to a lady’s house. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

She held up her hand as if to silence him. “The Preservers know it was you who broke into their safe. Their lookout saw me dragging you away. They’re going to be looking for you to make sure you’re dead, and when they find out that you are not, they will endeavor to change that fact about your biology.

“This area may be remote, but it’s still exposed. It’s only a matter of time before they find you here. Your only chance is to come with me. No need to worry. I don’t expect you to make up your mind on your oath right away. I have an apartment at a hotel on the outskirts of Fernady. You can stay there until the pressure has died down here. Meanwhile, I’ll get a hold of some proper authorities to deal with the Preservers. If they’re dealing in weapons like strangling gas, then their existence is something I can no longer tolerate.”

Ryan tried to think of a way to object, but found his mind going blank. Without further explanation, Hannah grabbed him by the ear, painfully lifting him to his feet, and led him out of his box. To Ryan’s relief, it would be the last time he set eyes on that dingy box ever again. After a lengthy ride in a taxi hover vehicle, Hannah brought Ryan to the nice side of Fernady. He had always known about it, but never could find a reason to go there - with everything being too expensive. And the Patrollers in that part of Fernady were extra vigilant, so he wouldn’t have had much in the way of opportunities for theft. Still, as he gazed up at the towers that hovered over the slums of Fernady, Ryan had always wondered what it must’ve been like to live in the rich part of town. Thinking back on his past fantasies about the place, he was not disappointed

The hotel they stopped at was massive, at least a hundred floors up; the grand luxury hotel called the Iskandar, an epitome of posh. Though the clerks and attendants gave Ryan some sideways glances when he first walked in, one look from Hannah and they scurried away. In fact, they almost seemed a little intimidated by Hannah’s presence, and not just because of her stern face.

The hotel manager recognized Hannah immediately, giving her a keycard to the elevator that led to her penthouse suite. Though the lobby of the hotel seemed impressive with its golden-rimmed furnishes and silver pillars, it was nothing next to Hannah’s suite, so Ryan’s memories of the hotel itself were a bit muffled in comparison.

The penthouse sat on the very top floor of the hotel, and it looked like a virtual palace to Ryan’s young eyes. For the first time in five years, Ryan didn’t have to sleep in a box out in some smelly, cold ally. He didn’t have to scrounge around for food, and he didn’t have to worry about Shaver Creed and his thugs roughing him up every other week. In other words, it felt like the closest thing to a home that Ryan had seen in five years.

Whoever Hannah Lioness really is, she is one rich chick.

Ryan had to admire the splendor of his new digs. The place was huge. When she said apartment, Ryan thought that she meant apartment, not penthouse. Everywhere he went, he found a new wonder to behold. The house boasted an aristocratic chandelier that floated in the hallway. A golden masterpiece with old-fashioned scented candles and candelabrum suspended by anti-gravity lifters high above an exuberantly decorated hall. Throughout the penthouse, he found paintings, marble statues, and even artistic holograms.

Most of the relics seemed to have religious significance as they often depicted robed people praying before white, glowing creatures that Ryan could only guess to be Angels or Light Wraiths. The white stainless-steel floors displayed a sense of cleanliness that Ryan had never known before. Pillars boasted green, spiraling plants that ran down the length of most of the walls.

Everywhere Ryan went, service droids seemed to fly out of nowhere to wait on him hand and foot. The droids came in various geometric shapes and colors. They were about as big as Ryan’s hawk, and mostly shaped like pyramids, cylinders, squares, or spheres. They all had a single, blue mechanical-eye in the center and little arms with metallic fingers sticking out of the sides.

The droids came in shades of blue, green, red, and yellow, with occasional variations here and there. They made strange chirping noises and always greeted Ryan warmly when he passed by. Ryan even named a few of them, and when they weren’t cleaning, he could actually play games with them like hide-and-seek or catch. Ryan couldn’t remember playing games since his time as a kid exploring the woods around the colony with the butterbarts as company. Even though being around the lifeless automatons weirded him out a little, he had to admit, having someone give him free back massages whenever he wanted had its perks.

The only unpleasant experience Ryan endured while staying involved the time that he first walked in the door and Hannah sniffed him and said he needed a bath. Faster than he could blink, a couple of service droids scooped him up and carried him to the bathroom. Then they unceremoniously tore off his clothes and dumped him in the biggest bubble bathtub that he’d ever seen; or it probably would have been if he’d ever seen one before anyway. Even when staying with his parents, they always used sonic showers.

Although Hannah presented him with clean clothes afterwards, Ryan requested that she just wash his tattered, sleeveless shirt and black jeans with holes. Hannah compromised and presented him with clothes of the same design, though Ryan ripped up the new fabrics slightly to make them seem more familiar. Hannah made several attempts to prompt Ryan to choose some form of footwear, all of which were rejected.

Ryan finally remembered what a full stomach felt like, receiving three square meals a day prepared meticulously by the cooking droids, or even by Hannah herself. Occasionally Hannah would join him … other times she would disappear, sometimes for hours, though to where she would not deign to answer. Ryan's favorite part was getting his own room with a big fluffy bed that seemed to swallow him; plus, staying dry and out of the rain is no small perk either. Though Ryan felt unused to pampering, he certainly didn’t mind it that much.

During his stay, Ryan tried to find out everything he could about his hostess, but she dodged his questions ruefully. From what he could tell, Hannah didn’t stay in her penthouse too often as there were no holo-pics of family or friends. The only artwork to be found was the generic kind of holo-depictions that one would normally find in a hotel. Things like holovids of ancient monuments or natural beauties found throughout the universe, such as the flying rivers of Riverdon, or the massive Dragon statue that breathed fire on the Space Dragons’ home planet.

One day, Ryan found a painting of a young man about his own age. The painting caught his eye because it wasn’t a hologram like most of the other depictions. Someone had done this one by hand. The young man in the painting had short blond hair and blue eyes like Hannah’s. As Ryan looked at the painting at a certain angle, he could have sworn that the young man had golden scales just like he did, but then he convinced himself that it must’ve been just a trick of the light, or maybe even a quirk of the artist.

Even more disturbing was the fact that the young man kind of reminded Ryan of his father, or at least the shape of his face and jaw, though Ryan thought that he might’ve been seeing what he wanted to see. When he asked Hannah about it, she suddenly became very tense and said that a Seer gave it to her many years ago. He didn’t ask about it anymore after that because of the forlorn face she got as she stared at the painting.

On the upside, Tyrant would fly in through Ryan’s window every once and awhile, bringing him some tasty treats to snack on. Surprisingly, Tyrant actually brought edible food for a change, but the bird usually ate the best things himself … the greedy little pheasant.

Ryan never figured out how the bird even found him considering how far they flew in the taxi, but one day Tyrant just landed on Ryan’s head while he lounged on the balcony and things resumed a sort of familiarity that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. Fernady might have its dark spots in Ryan’s memories, but Tyrant wasn’t one of them, at least for the most part. It almost felt like Tyrant had always been there from the beginning, eager as ever to peck Ryan on the head to get his attention.

As Ryan watched the fat little hawk chomp down his food like a piranha with feathers, he idly thought about Hannah. In many ways, living with her felt a little like living with his mother. She cooked for him, cleaned up his room, even joked around with him. However, it frustrated him knowing that she kept secrets … almost like she mistrusted him.

One evening, Ryan lounged in his bed idly playing with Tyrant, who kept pecking his fingers. Suddenly, Ryan heard a cough and a thud like someone had just fallen to the floor. Ryan ran down the hall to see Hannah Lioness on her knees clutching her chest and gasping for breath.

Ryan ran to her side. “What’s wrong?!”

Hannah tried to put on a brave face. “Oh, it’s nothing, kid. Just an old wound that acts up every now and-”

Hannah's coughs cut her explanation short. The more recent bout of coughing sprayed blood, and then she collapsed to the ground breathing heavily. Ryan almost fainted. The last time he’d seen so much blood on someone heralded back to Toramirese. Ryan had difficulty breathing himself at that moment. He felt like passing out, but then he thought of Hannah Lioness in agony, a woman who cared for him when no one else would. In the back of his mind, a thought kept repeating itself over and over again.

Not again! Never again!

With strength that surprised even him, Ryan heaved the taller Hannah Lioness into his arms and dropped her on the couch. As he ran to retrieve some medicine and order a medical droid, Ryan vaguely regretted the fact that he might’ve dropped her too hard. He tried to alleviate the burden of shame by telling himself that he was in a state of panic. Ryan helped where he could by dabbing her head with a wash rag while the droids did most of the work, scanning her with a red light and applying injections to her arm.

As Hannah started regaining consciousness, she pushed his hand away from her head and said in a very ungrateful voice, “What do you think you’re doing, moron?”

Ryan realized that she referred to the wash rag, and sheepishly, he admitted, “It’s just something I saw on the network once. I thought it was what you’re supposed to do when someone’s sick.”

Hannah shook her head in bewilderment. “Of course it’s not what you’re supposed to do when the problem is with the internal organs and not the head. You only use a wash rag if someone has a fever.”

Ryan felt himself turning purple again for the first time in years. “Yeah, I knew that! I was just testing your medical knowledge. You passed!”

“Are you … turning purple?” asked Hannah in astonishment.

Ryan tried to cover his face in shame. “It’s because I’m part Saurian, alright! It happens sometimes when I get embarrassed. Kind of like a weird, alien version of blushing.”

“Don’t worry, I think it’s kind of cute,” said Hannah, chuckling slightly.

That made Ryan blush even harder. “Anyway, I’m sorry for putting a wet rag on your head,” said Ryan, trying to steer the topic away from his freakish nature.

“It’s the thought that counts, kid. I appreciate the gesture,” said Hannah affectionately as she put a hand on Ryan’s wrist.

At that moment, Ryan felt a special kinship with Hannah Lioness that went beyond words. He would’ve liked to think that the two of them had somehow bonded in this awkward moment. He wanted to ask her the question that he'd been dying to ask since he met her. Ryan hesitated because she had saved his life, and he didn’t want to take advantage of her hospitality. But what choice did he have? Even in her weakened state, she could still talk to him, right? He had waited for five years to find answers about his past. 

With as much civility as he could muster, Ryan asked meekly, “Hannah, what are you not telling me?”

Hannah sighed deeply, as if she expected this sort of question, but dreaded to answer it. “That depends, Ryan. What is it you wish to know?”

Ryan had enough of her beating around the bush. If you want to hide something, don’t act so mysterious all the time!

            Struggling to keep the frustration out of his voice, Ryan spoke through clenched teeth, “I think you know exactly what I need to know. I need to know how you fit into all this. Why you singled me out and nobody else. I need to know what happened to my family, God da-”

Hannah raised her hand in her usual way when she wanted to silence him. “There’s no need to curse.”

Even though he promised himself that he would be gentle with Hannah, Ryan felt his cheeks flush with anger. “I thought you weren’t religious.”

Hannah gave him a knowing smile. “Never said I wasn’t, kid. You just assumed I wasn’t after I told you I wasn’t a missionary.”

Ryan raised his hands in frustration. “There seems to be a lot of things you’ve neglected to mention, lady. Like why you once told me that in order to live with you and your ‘brethren’, I have to renounce any hope of ever becoming an Elemental. And then you pull some fancy glass straw trick, and you expect me to just go along with you when the more I get to know you, the more I don’t know you.” Ryan meant to say something else that sounded cooler, but his frazzled emotions scattered his thoughts. He composed himself and spoke softly, but firmly. “Hannah, you knew my parents, Richard and Brianna Uruks.” He did not pose it as a question.

            Hannah didn’t answer straight away; instead, she pulled a small holo-photo from her pocket. She handed it to Ryan as if it was more precious than the royal rings. Ryan gasped at an image of his father.

Tears filled Hannah’s eyes. “They’re gone. Both of them, gone forever. I wanted so much to help him. I would have even given my life to save your mother. But it just was not meant to be, my young friend. You want to know who to blame for their deaths? Look no further, for in my weakness, I sentenced the both of them to death just as assuredly as their executioners.

“You make choices in life … some good, many bad … and when the bad choices are made, it makes no difference how much you may want to take them back. Some choices must be endured no matter how repugnant the outcome may be. There are some things in life that you simply cannot prepare yourself for until you see them with your own eyes … until you wake up one day and realize that everyone whom you once held dear to your heart is gone forever, and you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”

Ryan had always suspected that his parents died. But still, hearing it spoken out loud hit him harder than he thought possible. With tears in his own eyes now, Ryan stood up and ran out the door.

“Ryan, wait! Please!”

But Ryan refused to listen to her any longer. Until that moment, he could never have known just how much he secretly hoped beyond hope that there existed a chance for them to be alive. Now that hope was dashed forever by the only person left in Ryan’s life that he thought he could trust; the person who claimed responsibility for their deaths.

Ryan barely listened to Hannah’s fading cries as he dashed through the door of the penthouse. He paused for a moment when he heard her cough again, glancing over his shoulder to see her at the threshold to the door on her knees, blood leaking between her fingers as she covered her mouth. He almost went to help her, but thought that it must’ve been a trick of some kind. Besides, even if it wasn’t, she didn’t deserve his pity … not after the things she admitted to. Stuffing down all feelings of sympathy, he ran into the elevator and pushed the button for the first floor, and then he collapsed to the elevator floor and wept. Ryan didn’t know if Hannah had a hand in his parents’ demise, and at that moment he didn’t care. She had said so herself. Even if she considered herself their friend once, she had just stood by and let them die. He could no longer trust her. Just when Ryan had secretly hoped that he might have a family again, this happens.

Never love again! Never love again! Never love again! 

As soon as the elevator hit bottom, Ryan bolted from the hotel office undeterred by the gasps of surprise from the other guests. He pushed through the revolving doors while a thunderstorm raged outside and ran straight into the sneering face of Shaver Creed. The thug laughed in triumph as his gang surrounded Ryan. He noted a drastic increase in their numbers this time, and some packed heavy artillery. Ryan felt that this encounter entailed more than just a simple beating; this time the wolves had come for blood. Shaver Creed’s greasy, acne-ridden face seemed even more slick than usual because of the pouring rain. The flashing lightning gave him a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

“Well, well, well! Wha' we 'ave ere boys. Tha lil' half-breed piss-ant who thought he could get away wi' stealin' from us,” declared Shaver Creed while grinning like a crocodile.

Many of his thugs started laughing and jeering with him, as if their combined efforts could make up for their lack of vocabulary. Ryan noticed that the newcomers didn’t join in the laughter. The new, stoic members looked older than Shaver's usual adolescent recruits. Even though they weren’t as crude as the other gang members, they seemed a lot more disciplined as they held their weapons with clear competency, and that made them even scarier.

Shaver Creed continued bragging unabashedly. “They told me you weren’t dead,” said Shaver Creed, gesturing towards the new members. “I didn’t believe 'em at first, but these new friends of mine can be very persuasive. Now that I finally have the chance of skinning yer worthless alien hide, it’ll be more than worth the trouble of tracking ya down, ya cowardly lil’ bastard.”

Ryan had taken all he could stand from this guy. Day after day, Ryan suffered the abuses that Shaver Creed threw at him and those like him; and now, finally, he had endured enough. It wasn’t like his life had any meaning left. He would die soon anyway, so he might as well have some fun while he could.

With as much gusto as he could muster, Ryan declared in a loud voice, “That’s funny. I’m a coward, and you’re ganging up on a fifteen-year-old kid with like … forty armed goons. Who are these new guys anyway? They’re a bit more seasoned than you’re usual dweebs. Are they your babysitters or something?”

Shaver Creed stood speechless. It had been the first time Ryan had said anything to him … the first time anybody had worked up the nerve to stand up to him, and he seemed uncertain on how to respond.

Ryan smiled coldly, which seem to freak Shaver out as he took a wary step back. Then Ryan said, “What’s wrong! Is it that shocking to learn that there’s someone who’s not afraid of you?”

            Shaver tried to regain some of his lost dignity from the slight. “So ya' do talk … big deal! Jus' means yer' dumber than ya' look. Mouthin' off at me like tha' will jus' get ya more punishment.”

            “Shut the hell up, you pimple-faced moron!” returned Ryan with even more ferocity than he knew he was capable of. “You’re not even worth insulting, so why bother? I just learned that everyone in my life worth caring for was killed by some damn monster, so you really think a jumped-up little turd like you can scare me?”

            Shaver's mouth hung open slightly in astonishment.

His hesitation only emboldened Ryan further, who felt brave enough to bite a lion. “Well, come at me, bro! We doing this thing or aren’t we? After all the crap I’ve been through, I could use a little distraction.”

After hearing his bold proclamation and seeing a hint of madness that had become prevalent in Ryan’s features, a few of Shaver’s own thugs subconsciously took a step back from the boy.

Ryan felt pleased to hear some of Shaver’s men whispered urgently in alarm. “That half-breed’s nuts, man!”

“I don’t like that look in his eyes.”

Shaver finally got ahold of himself and managed to man up enough to look Ryan square in the eye and respond. “Whatever, freak. Ya' don’t fool me with yer' big talk. Yer' scared shitless and ya' know it.” Shaver then turned back to his troops to regain control. “Ya' hear that, wimps. This little piss-ant's jus' bluffing. Actin' tough to cover up 'ow scared he is!”

            Ryan kept smiling. “You know what I think. I think you’re the one who’s scared, Shaver. Oh sure, you talk big like any bully when you’ve got your apes to back you up … but deep down, you’re the piss-ant, afraid to fight the scary half-breed. That’s why you never came at me one on one, because you know I’ll kick your ass from here to the Emperor’s Palace!

            Shaver Creed grimaced in anger. “Ya' wanna go, brat? Jus' yous' and me. I don’t need these retards.” He ripped off his jacket and threw it to the wet pavement, but Ryan saw the truth in his eyes; Shaver Creed was afraid.

All sense of self-preservation abandoned, Ryan let his anger rule his actions as he laughed maniacally. “Bring it on, you chicken-headed dipstick. Maybe I can beat the stupid out of you.”

Shaver Creed lunged at Ryan, just as he hoped he would. Ryan side-stepped and broke Creed’s wrist with a quick chop of his hand. Something snapped in Shaver’s hand, and he went down to one knee crying out in pain, Ryan had no idea how he did it, but it felt good as he relished in his newfound power.

Then Shaver quickly came to his feet and pulled out a knife with his good hand. Not an ordinary knife as it glowed with a blue light and sparked with an electric current running through it. Ryan thought that he remembered reading about this particular knife somewhere, but he couldn’t remember any details about it.

Suddenly, Shaver Creed advanced towards Ryan with newfound determination. It surprised Ryan that he could move that quickly given his condition. Ryan dodged Shaver’s quick knife thrusts as best he could. Despite his good fortune at the beginning of the battle, Ryan had never had a serious fight in his whole life, and Shaver seemed to have him trumped on both fighting experience and bloodlust.

Little by little, Shaver drove Ryan back towards the other Preservers with their weapons trained on him. Shaver lunged at him once again. As Ryan dodged, time seemed to slow down as Shaver suddenly changed the direction of the blade. Ryan somehow managed to dodge again as a burst of speed rushed into his body, and he delivered a full-fisted punch to Shaver’s face.

Shaver staggered back as he clutched his bloodied nose. Ryan wanted to shout a victory cry, but his fist felt like he had just punched a mouth full of metal teeth … which he did since Shaver had most of his teeth replaced with iron.

So instead of shouting a battle cry to intimidate his foe, Ryan let loose a big “OUCH,” clutching his hand and looking like a kindergartener who suffered a sticker in his finger. In pain and humiliated, Ryan shook as his vision became dizzy. He found that he could no longer tell his body what to do anymore as he stood frozen and shaking. Ryan managed to look down and saw that blood seeped from his arm, but more than that, the wound glowed faintly with a blue light just like the knife that Shaver wielded.

Shaver Creed grinned in triumph. The blood dripping from his face gave him a very sinister appearance. “Ever heard o' Electric Iron, half-breed? Tha’s wha' this baby’s is made from. Does'n even 'ave to be fatal. So long as it breaks the skin, it paralyzes yer' body with an electric pulse. Them dumbass Elementals call this ‘ere beauty a Psionic Knife. Stole it from the Ministry of Lightnin' meself and then had some bloke fix it up so a Pure-Skin like me could use it. Tha’s jus' like those Elemental assholes, always keepin' the best stuff fer themselves. They’re no better than alien trash like you.”

Despite his petrification, Ryan continued to glare at Shaver and say, “Says the guy who just had his ass handed to him by a kid and had to cheat in order to win. Cheater!”

 Shaver punched Ryan in the gut with all his might.

Ryan doubled over and coughed up blood. Shaver had a lot more brute strength than Ryan gave him credit for.

Shaver enjoyed himself, reveling in his victory. “Don’t matter no more anyhow. The only reason you nicked me is cause o’ that stinkin' lizard blood that’s made ya' into some kind o’ freak. I knew the day that you showed up 'ere, you was nothing but trouble. Everyone did, they was jus' too scared to do anything 'bout it.”

What does he mean by that? Did I do something when I came here?

Being the obnoxious, gloating type, Shaver kept going, “Looks like yer' not so badass after all, twerp. Yer' even lower than the alien scum that spawned you. After today, everyone will call me a hero for offing a little monster like you.”

Shaver Creed raised his weapon for the final strike, but Ryan no longer cared. What did he have left to care about anyway? His parents were gone. Everyone thought of him as a freak not worthy of existence. Hannah probably thought so too.

Shaver’s right. All of them are right. I’m nothing. I’m scum. I should have died that day, not my parents. I don’t belong in this universe, so I might as well just lie down and die.

And then, Ryan heard a voice that awakened him from his dark thoughts of death. “Get away from that boy!”

Ryan and the rest of the Preservers looked up to see Hannah Lioness falling from almost a hundred stories up.

She’s nuts!

She fell faster than a falcon could fly, with her head angled towards the ground like an arrow. Then, just when Ryan thought it over for her, she pushed a control in her hands, and rockets shot out from her sides, slowing her descent. Ten feet from the ground, she unstrapped the rockets from her back and jumped into the face of a Preserver.

Most of the Preservers were too stunned to respond at first, but the quiet ones didn’t hesitate to aim their weapons at Hannah. But before they could train their guns on their target, Hannah spun in a circle, kicking two Preservers in the face with an expert swing of her legs.

She then performed an extremely acrobatic backflip just as two Preservers fired their weapons at her from either side and ended up hitting each other instead. She landed on one man’s shoulders and then locked her feet around his neck before turning in a circle. Ryan heard a loud snap! as the man’s neck broke. But no sooner had the man started to fall did Hannah jump from his back as lithely as a cat and turn her attention on the other gunmen.

Her punches looked faster than bullets and just as devastating as Ryan heard ribs crack and limbs snap from her blows. She took down thug after thug with inhuman-like reflexes and speed. Hannah Lioness fought off forty men with guns using only her bare hands.

Unfortunately, her momentum seemed to be fading. Even through the night and the rain, Ryan's keen eyes pierced through the darkness and saw that she showed signs of slowing down. Her moves became sluggish, her breathing heavy. She dodged bullets, broke ribs with fast and powerful punches, even tossed fully grown men around like ragdolls … but it all took its toll.

Within a heartbeat, some of the bigger men surrounded her, locked their arms around her, and pressed her to the ground before she could react. Then Hannah started coughing blood again and Ryan knew that whatever her condition, this time it might kill her.

Despite the agony clearly evident on her face, she managed to scream at Ryan, “What do you think you’re doing, moron?! Run! Get out of here! I didn’t come down here just so you could die with me, now get!”

Ryan didn’t understand how he could run, but then he looked around him and saw that all the Preservers that had surrounded him had been rendered unconscious or were now dead. The rest held down Hannah as if she were a rabid dog; even Shaver seemed more preoccupied with her. None of them paid attention to Ryan, almost like the same magic his mother used. Ryan also noticed that the effects of the electric knife had worn off as he moved his limbs. If he wanted to, he could just run away, and he’d be home free.

Despite Ryan’s resignation to die, the temptation to flee and live had more power than he wanted to admit. It felt so natural to just save his own hide while he had the chance. Nothing would stop him. In the back of his mind, Ryan thought he felt the presence of the Dark Creature that killed his parents.

Are you really going to run away again, boy? said the voice of the Dark Creature into Ryan’s mind.  Forgive me for saying this, but that makes you seem rather impotent in my opinion.

Despite the fact that Ryan knew that he wasn’t really hearing the voice, that it came from his imagination, an icy feeling of dread washed over him and made it impossible for him to think clearly. 

Well, what are you waiting for? Flee or die. You didn’t seem to quibble over that choice last time. Flee or die!

The words ‘flee or die’ kept repeating themselves in Ryan’s head, and he found them strangely compelling, as if entranced. He turned to run, but then he got the strange sensation that this had happened before, that he had experienced a similar decision like this one, and had chosen to save his own life at the cost of another’s. At the same time, a thought kept repeating itself over and over inside his head.

Not again! Never again!

With fire in his heart, Ryan repressed the evil voice in his head and charged the Preservers.