Lost In Chaos

Kaz lunged forward, the chaotic energy coursing through him like an unrestrained storm. His violet glow lit up the porch as he closed the distance between himself and the guards in an instant.

But something was wrong.

Before he could make contact, his momentum froze mid-step. The world spun violently, and an unbearable coldness gripped his neck. In a single heartbeat, Kaz saw his own head tumble from his shoulders, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

Panic surged through him as he instinctively reached for his neck. His trembling fingers found no wound, no blood—nothing but unbroken skin. He looked down, confused and shaken, only to find his body still intact.

The imp buzzed around him frantically, its tiny claws clutching at his hair. It screeched, its usual mischievous nature replaced with genuine fear. Kaz turned his gaze toward the guard.

The man smirked, his eyes glowing faintly with a crimson hue. "Mind tricks," the guard said casually, his voice laced with amusement. "We're not stupid enough to fight chaos head-on."

Kaz's fists clenched, his anger bubbling just beneath the surface. But he knew better than to push his luck. Not yet. These men weren't ordinary enforcers—they were prepared for him. He had no choice but to surrender.

With a reluctant sigh, Kaz raised his hands and stepped toward the vehicle waiting at the curb. The guards followed closely, their weapons still at the ready.

As the car rolled forward, Kaz stared out the window, his thoughts spiraling. The chaos within him churned, tempting him with visions of destruction and escape. But he smacked his own cheek, forcing the thoughts away.

"That's the trait talking," he muttered under his breath. "The stronger I get, the harder it is to resist..."

He shook his head, determined to maintain control. Whatever this facility was, it would no doubt be chaotic. And chaos was his domain, after all.

The car eventually stopped in front of a towering structure that glinted under the sunlight. Kaz stepped out, squinting at the massive building.

The facility was unlike anything he'd ever seen. Its exterior gleamed with a strange combination of glass and stone, but neither material looked entirely natural. The glass was foggy, yet sturdy, as though it had been fused with some dense mineral. The metal reinforcements, too, shimmered with an otherworldly hue. Kaz could tell immediately—none of this was from Earth.

"Move," one of the guards barked, gesturing toward the entrance.

Kaz followed reluctantly, his imp perched nervously on his shoulder. The group made their way to an elevator, its walls lined with the same alien metal. As they ascended, the air grew heavier with tension.

When the doors finally slid open, they revealed a grand office space. The room was wide and luxurious, its walls lined with monitors displaying live feeds of various Rift zones. In the center, sitting in a sleek chair, was a man Kaz recognized immediately.

Ryuma.

Kaz froze, his eyes narrowing. His dragonling companion looked... different. Ryuma's small, horn-like stumps now protruded slightly more, their tips sharp and polished. His golden eyes, once bright and youthful, had turned into reptilian slits, gleaming with an unsettling intensity.

Yet, despite the changes, Ryuma's face broke into a familiar grin. "Kaz!" he called, his voice full of excitement.

Kaz wasn't as enthusiastic. "You asshole," he muttered, crossing his arms. "I thought I was about to get experimented on!"

Ryuma's grin widened, clearly amused. "Well, I guess I still could," he joked, leaning back in his chair.

Kaz groaned, rolling his eyes. "Not funny."

Ryuma stood, his sharp gaze scanning Kaz with interest. "You've changed," he remarked, his tone more serious now. "Your energy feels... different. Stronger. Did you evolve your trait?"

Kaz smirked, his cockiness returning. "Yeah. Son of Chaos, remember? This is what happens when you mess with gods—or their remnants."

Ryuma nodded, clearly impressed. "Good. You'll need that strength for what's coming next."

Kaz raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

Ryuma's expression turned grave. "The Rifts are getting worse. The next one is going to be far more dangerous than anything we've faced so far."

Kaz's mind flashed back to the desert and the Riftspawn they had barely survived. If this next Rift was worse, they'd need every advantage they could get.

Ryuma continued, his tone lighter now. "That's why I brought you here. I wanted to see if you'd be interested in joining the Military Academy Program. You wouldn't have to actually enlist, but it's the best place to train and prepare for what's coming."

Kaz frowned, considering the offer. The idea of being part of a structured program didn't sit well with him—his trait thrived on chaos, not order. But Ryuma's suggestion wasn't without merit. The academy would provide resources, training, and the chance to learn about the creatures they'd face in the Rifts.

"What's the catch?" Kaz asked cautiously.

"No catch," Ryuma replied with a shrug. "You'll get to train, learn combat techniques, and study Riftspawn behavior. Plus, they offer bonuses—like rank assessments, style-forming techniques, and more. It's not a bad deal."

Kaz leaned against the wall, mulling it over. The academy sounded useful, but it also sounded... dull. He wasn't the kind of person who thrived under rules and regulations. Still, the thought of gaining experience before the next Rift was tempting.

And if he got bored, he could always create a little chaos to keep things interesting.

Kaz smirked at the thought, but quickly shook his head. "Damn trait," he muttered.

Ryuma tilted his head. "What's that?"

"Nothing," Kaz replied quickly. Straightening up, he met Ryuma's gaze with a newfound determination. "Yeah, why not."