Sunday, July 7, 2013

Metronome - Chapter 1: Yasome the Avenger

The night was cold and gloomy. It’s almost past 12 midnight and Yasome, 12 years old, still couldn’t sleep due to an unexplained uneasiness. He went downstairs when a loud noise barged into their house.


“Sister? Big brother?”


Yasome just froze there, with the blood oozing from the dead corpses. He was surrounded by three military soldiers who, in a flash, killed the boy with their rifle guns. It gushed through his chest as he coughed and breathed his last, laid down on the floor, still trying to grasp what was going on…

“Why is this…happening…to me…”

And thus, the soldiers left the boy for the dead.

“Well, that’s a wrap today, boys.”

“Just a few more disobedient residents in this town and we’re good to go.”

Suddenly, a glowing substance radiated from inside Yasome’s body, which blinded the soldiers. His appearance slightly changed: his black hair turned snow white, his eyes turned red from blue, his height increased by a few inches, and his weak personality was somewhat inverted into a more sinister, mysterious aura.

Without hesitation, he fired energy shots towards one of the soldiers. He then formed blades out of the white energy and killed the other two.

He simply walked forward as if nothing happened…like he was a completely different person.

Meanwhile, an older man stared from the distance, in the soldiers’ uniform.

“Good job, my boy…you must become stronger for me…and for him…”

Yasome then walks forward, meeting more soldiers and defeating them single-handedly, while trying to avoid commotion. His senses tell him to go to a specific place – the place he was given the ‘power’.

“Welcome to LENCO! We’ve been expecting you for years now, Mr. Yasome Luna!” said the woman officer at the gate. “Please, come inside for briefing of your objectives.”

Walking towards the corridors, he goes to a room where he meets a white-haired woman who’s much older than him. She smiles a little and then talks to him.

“Please, have a seat, newly-awakened Weizan.”

“W-weizan, huh?” Yasome wondered. “So that’s what we’re called?”

“Yeah,” said the woman, drinking her cup of tea. “What’s your name again?”

The boy, whose appearance and personality have changed since that incident, could still remember it all. Looking at his hands which were stained with blood, he wipes them with a tissue and smiles.



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