Chapter 3: The Smiling Sacrifice
.....
SNAP.
The sound was sharp, like a dry branch breaking in the winter. But it wasn't a branch. It was actually Mo Seven's shin bone.
Seven's right leg bent at a sickening, and impossible angle. The moment his foot had connected with the Rakshasa's heavy metal gauntlet, the physics of the world had reminded him of a very cruel truth: he was a human with no Divine Essence, and he was kicking a mountain.
"Agh!" Seven let out a strangled gasp, he felt his lungs catching in his chest. Hiss... huff...
He instantly realized that he was completely outmatched. The Rakshasa hadn't even tried to block his kick. The alien had been moving its hand "gently" by its standards, yet that gentle movement was enough to shatter a human's limbs. This was a Black-Haired Rakshasa. And According to the data Seven had memorized from school, the color of their hair showed their rank or levels. Black hair meant this soldier was a soldier rank, easily stronger than an Advanced-rank human cultivator. Which was the level of most of his teachers.
Seven was nothing compared to his teachers and even his teachers can't take this Rakshasa down. He was below the mortal rank which was the lowest human rank. He was a Null.
But even as his leg hung uselessly and the agony surged through his nervous system like liquid fire, Seven didn't fall down. He gritted his teeth so hard that they creaked.
"I've already died once," Seven thought, as his mind began racing with a clarity that only comes when death is knocking. "I died a hero on earth. If those hateful Gods want to watch me die again, then fine. But I'm going to make sure they see something worth watching. The final show"
He remembered the video. About The Zenith, Kaelen Vance, who stood in front of a giant Rakshasa while protecting a child, with a bored, and confident smile. The scene was something just like this. He wanted to be like the zenith. Seven forced his face to change expression. He forced his lips to curl upward into a nonchalant, and cocky smirk. He forced his eyes to look lazy, as if this world-ending alien was just a minor annoyance on his way to go get coffee.
He stood straight in front of the sobbing little girl, shielding her with his broken body. As He wobbled on his one good leg, but his gaze remained steady.
"If I die here," Seven thought, his thoughts dripping with sarcasm that was directed at the heavens, "at least the news tomorrow will say a 'Trash' acted like The Zenith. Take that, you stupid Gods."
The Rakshasa tilted its massive, spiky-haired head. It reached out a hand, its fingers were as thick as sausages, and it gripped Seven's forearm while raising it up. It didn't even squeeze hard, but the sheer density of the alien's grip caused blood to spray and leak from Seven's skin.
Squish. Drip. Drip.
The alien spoke. Its voice was deep and gravelly, sounding like multiple stones grinding together in a mixer. "So fragile... weak humans."
The pain was now screaming in Seven's body. Seven's arm felt like it was being put through a meat grinder. His vision began to spark and blur with white dots. But he didn't pull himself away. Instead He leaned forward, his Zenith-style smile still growing wider.
"Is that all?" Seven whispered, his voice was shaky but defiant. "My grandma... Can squeeze harder... than that."
The Rakshasa's black eyes flared with a sudden, cold irritation. It did not like the look in this small creature's eyes. It raised its other hand, the massive metal gauntlet glowing with a red hum of kinetic energy. It was going to crush Seven's skull like a grape.
"Die, insect," the alien growled.
The fist started to move. It was so fast that it looked like a blur of red light and black metal. Seven closed his eyes, his heart beating one last time before he'll see the hateful Gods again. Ba-dump. "Save the girl," was his final thought.
"Don't move."
The strange voice didn't come from the street. It seemed to echo from the air itself. It was calm, cool, and carried a weight that made the very molecules of the alley freeze in one place.
The Rakshasa's fist stopped an inch away from Seven's forehead. The alien had froze mid-swing, its muscles were bulging, and its black hair was standing straight up, but it couldn't move a single millimeter. It looked more like a statue caught in a moment of violence.
"Release the kid," the strange voice commanded.
CRACKLE.
Suddenly, the Rakshasa's grip on Seven's arm vanished. The alien didn't just let go; but its arm was forced back by an invisible power.
Seven's body tumbled to the ground, his broken leg hitting the pavement with a dull thud. "Nnngh!" He groaned in pain, while clutching his shattered limb. He looked up through his blurred vision.
There was a man walking toward them. He wore a long white coat that didn't seem to have a single speck of dust on it. He moved with a lazy, and rhythmic stride, his hands were tucked into his pockets. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes, and reflected the fires of the crashed ship.
This was.
Kaelen Vance. The Zenith.
"You're quite a long way from home, big guy," Kaelen said, while looking at the Rakshasa with a bored expression. "And you're making a mess of my favorite peaceful planet. That's a strike."
The Rakshasa broke free from the invisible pressure it was under, letting out a roar of pure rage. "GRAAAAAAAH!" It charged forward, its gauntlets were glowing bright red as it unleashed everything it had.
Kaelen didn't even take his hands out of his pockets. He just slightly tilted his head.
"Second strike," Kaelen murmured.
The air around the Rakshasa suddenly turned into a solid wall. The alien slammed into it with a loud CLANG, as if it had hit a mountain. Before it could recover, Kaelen appeared in front of it in an instant. not through speed, but it was as if the distance between them had simply stopped existing.
"You're boring," Kaelen said. As He tapped the alien's chest with two fingers.
BOOM!
An invisible shockwave tore through the Rakshasa's body. The alien's black battle suit shattered to pieces. The Boney spikes on its forearms snapped off. The giant was launched backward, while tumbling through the air like a ragdoll until it hit the wreckage of its own ship, and exploding into a cloud of purple mist. Without cursing any further damage.
Around the street, people began to emerge from the shadows.
"It's him!" someone screamed. "The Zenith! Kaelen Vance is here!"
"Oh my gosh! On Hig17?! The Greatest Hero and cultivativor is on our planet?!"
A massive crowd began to form, people were cheering and weeping with relief. Among them was a man called Dice he was holding a high-tech camera-sphere. He's a journalist with a [Camera Eye] Divine Essence. He was live-streaming the entire event to the interstellar web.
[Live Chat: Galactic Feed]
* Ben66: OMG THE ZENITH! HE'S SO COOL!
* User28666: Wait, did you see that kid? The one who stood in front of the girl?
* Shoeshine454: Yeah, his leg was totally broken but he didn't move! Who is he?!
* Cjkin0: He's a Null! He's from my The Zenith just saved a Null! That kid is a legend!
*User28666: what's a null
*Cjkin0: a null is someone without a divine essence my teacher said they're very rare. One in a thousand years
The entire chat room was exploding with pity and awe for the boy who had tried to play the hero without a divine essence.
Kaelen Vance ignored the cameras and the cheering crowd. He turned his back to the media, his long coat blocking their view of the boy on the ground. Then He knelt down beside Mo Seven.
Seven's consciousness was fading fast. In his vision The world was turning into a gray fog. The pain was so intense that it had become a dull, and distant hum. He looked up at the man he had idolized his whole life.
"Kid. Your body had moved before your brain did," Kaelen softly said, his voice was low only for Seven to hear. "I haven't seen that in a long time. You remind me of someone... Someone very close to me."
Kaelen's sunglasses slightly slid down, revealing eyes with blue iris that seemed to hold the depth of the void. "It seems you're a Null. This is my second time seeing a null. A very rare abnormality. The world and the people think you're empty..."
Kaelen reached out and touched Seven's forehead. A small, brilliant spark of light flickered from his fingertip. "But emptiness is just a vessel waiting to be filled."
Seven's eyes fluttered. "At least... I get to see my idol... before I die..." he whispered, his voice was barely a breath. He looked past Kaelen toward the little girl, who was being gathered up by her mother. "Save... the girl..." He whispered.
Kaelen Vance sighed inwardly, there was a small, sad smile touching his lips. "Even now, after all that, he still thinks of the girl first."
"You aren't going to die today, kid," Kaelen whispered. "You deserve this."
Seven didn't hear the last part. As the light from Kaelen's hand touched him, and strange warmth flooded his cold, and broken body. The darkness finally took him, and he completely blacked out.
Kaelen stood up, his back still to the cameras. He looked like the perfect hero, humans strongest cultivator. the Symbol of victory, but his mind was far away, thinking about the boy who had smiled at a monster.