Threads of the Soul

Click click click

The sound of fingers snapping repeatedly filled the evening air, a small spark appearing with every click, until finally that spark blazed into a small, candlelight flame. The flame flickered softly in the breeze, fuelled not by a wick or oil, but simply burning as it hovered in the air just above a man's thumb.

Placing a cigarette between his lips, the man lifted the flame up to the end until it glowed softly, before flicking his hand to douse the flame. He took a long, slow drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke swim within his lungs for a few moments until he finally exhaled. Puffing out a few rings of smoke before coughing and exhaling the rest of the smoke cloud.

As he gazed over the field of blood and corpses in front of him, as the powerless people scrambled about to clean it up, the smoking man couldn't help but laugh softly. The air around them was dreadfully cold, hints of frost gathering on the ground and smaller patches of blood freezing if left for too long.

While the cold nipped at their fingers and drew the heat from their bodies as they worked, he was perfectly comfortable relaxing and having a smoke. He didn't even need to worry about the cold, the air around him shimmering with a light heat haze as his skin faintly glowed.

He could feel the occasional hateful glares shot his way and could see their lips moving as they muttered to each other, Though the words didn't reach his ears. But the gazes never lasted long and the muttering stayed as just that. Pointless mutters, never trying to stand up for themselves.

'Yeah, that's what I thought. Pathetic. Just little worms, parasites living off us. You couldn't even earn a free gift of power because you're all so worthless. I don't even know why they make us project you, it should be you on the front-lines, risking your useless asses.'

Spitting at the ground in front of him, it took a few seconds to fall before it finally splattered onto the blood stained ground. That was because while this man was relaxing, he wasn't actually standing on the ground. He was, in fact, sitting comfortably atop a 4 metre high wall that surrounded the building behind him.

There were a few curious features about this wall that one would notice at first glance. For one, the wall was not built from brick and mortar, nor steel rebar and concrete. It wasn't even built from wood. As a matter of fact, this particular wall was not built at all. There were no connecting blocks nor binding agents, there wasn't even a door to get in and out. It was completely solid, all the way around.

The only thing that broke up its solid pattern was, curiously enough, the word 'WALL' across it. All the way around it, for the entirety of its length and the word as tall as the wall itself, the outside showed the word 'WALL' back to back. This word itself was not written, instead it appeared to be carved into it meticulously as if to make sure anyone who looked at it knew exactly what it was.

As for the material of the wall, it seemed to be grown out of the road itself. As if the road was going along normally then spontaneously decided that it ought to go vertical for a few metres and create a wall all by itself.

The building that the wall was surrounding was quite a large and ornate structure. With white walls that had been marred with dirt and dishevelment over the countless years, tall pillars at the entrance and heavy, wooden doors. At the top of each pillar was a square outcropping at the edge of the roof, atop of which sat intricately carved statues of ancient roman gods in flowing togas.

However, despite their appearances they weren't actually relics from the roman invasion all those centuries ago and had instead been built in appreciation of the style in the early 1800s.

This was the library of the city. A grand building filled to the brim with hundreds and thousands of books on countless subjects. It hadn't started as such, its purpose shifting over the years, but to those that currently lived in the city, this was all it had ever been.

Before the living radiator sat atop the wall could even finish half of his cigarette he was suddenly smacked hard across the back of the head, nearly making him topple off his seat atop the wall.

"What the hell! You almost made me fall you bastard, you better apologise quickly or else…"

He whirled around, the anger of an easily bruised ego plastered across his face as steam literally puffed from his nose, yet as soon as he laid eyes on the perpetrator the anger instantly melted. A look of fear and worry quickly replaced it as his threats caught in his throat, his voice becoming nothing more than a whimper.

Letting out an audible gulp, the smoking man stared up at the one who had slapped him as he gazed back at him with a pair of blazing golden eyes.

"Or else what? Go on, tell me what's about to happen."

Sirius spoke with a chilling tone as he glared down at the fearful smoker, his golden eyes brightening ever so slightly as if he was getting ready to blast a searing hole through the smoker's head.

Under the intensity of that gaze, the smoker stammered over his words, his mouth opening and closing like a codfish gulping for air, as he desperately tried to formulate an apology to their best warrior. He didn't want to be the idiot who disrespected the one person who could solo a terrifying beast.

But before his brain could catch up to his predicament and actually spit out an apology, Sirius dropped the serious act. Letting out a hearty laugh, he slapped the smoker on the shoulder, a little lighter this time.

"I'm just fucking with you man, calm down."

"Oh…right…ha…haha"

The smoker let out a shaky laugh, his back an absolute river of sweat as he tugged at his collar nervously. He stood up, trying to move away from the golden god, only to feel his hand gripping his shoulder tight.

Wincing in pain, he was reminded of the sheer difference between the two of them. Not just in the scale and usefulness in their abilities, but in their stats. He might have looked down upon the ones without powers, both figuratively and literally, but even he wasn't stupid enough to forget his place.

The best he could do was produce a small fireball that didn't fly very far or do very much damage, his main ability was simply generating heat for himself and those nearby. But even that small amount of power was enough to make him feel superior to the powerless, because even then he felt like the new breed of humanity. Homo-superior.

Yet, compared to this man? Who could blast fearsome beasts from the sky and sear their flesh with nothing more than a glance. Compared to that, he was nothing. The fact that their stats were vastly different only compounded that difference.

Food was distributed by meritocracy. The more you worked, the more you ate. Everyone got at least some evolved meat, but the fighters and actually useful people got more of it compared to the before-times processed food. Even powers weren't enough to guarantee that you got a good meal of proper meat, but that wasn't enough to convince some that they still weren't naturally better.

For all these reasons, as well as his mutual respect and fear of the golden eyed man, meant that when Sirius forced him to turn, he didn't resist and that when he slowly reached forward, the smoker stayed perfectly still. Even when the cigarette was plucked from his lips and tossed onto the ground, he barely moved. Keeping as still as the statues that loomed above him.

"You know, you really shouldn't smoke when you're on guard duty. You never know what might…"

boom.

The smoker frowned slightly, watching in confusion as Sirius trailed off from his friendly and cheerful lecture and instead narrowed his eyes in befuddlement. The smile melting away from his lips to be replaced by a deep frown.

"You never know what sir?"

"Sshh."

"Mmff!"

Letting out a muffled cry, the smoker froze up once again as his question was met not with an answer but with Sirius clamping his hand tight over his mouth. He glanced down at the hand, before looking up at Sirius with utter confusion. But the golden eyed man wasn't focusing on him, instead he was looking off into the distance, straining his ears to listen for even the smallest sound.

Boom. Boom!

"Do you hear that?"

However, despite asking the question, he didn't bother waiting for an answer. Instead he dropped off the wall, gesturing for all the powerless corpse collectors to stop their work. A deafening silence filled their surroundings, so quiet that you could hear the heartbeat of the person beside you. Or that's what they thought it was.

Boom! Boom! BOOM!

The thunderous sound grew louder, stones beneath their feet starting to leap around and dance with excitement at every beating of that colossal drum. It quickly became clear that this was not their heartbeat. They didn't have long to guess what it was before a tyrannical beast straight out of their nightmares came lumbering into view.

Every footstep shaking the ground, its skin blackened from god knows what. A deadly tail swinging back and forth as an impenetrable shell scraped against the buildings as it passed.

Screams filled the air, routinely drowned out by the rumbling footsteps of the colossus as it loomed ever closer. Panic filling the corpse gatherers, some sprinting towards the wall in search of safety while others simply froze. There were more than one soiled trousers at that horrific sight.

Yet while others feared, Sirius felt only confusion. For he was not focused on the looming threat, but the human figures which were perched on its head, one of which was strikingly familiar.

"Is that…Astra? Who the hell is she with?"