The Universe Of Tomorrow

Cycle of the Damned: The Rise of Aterna

Chapter 1: Whispers of a Forgotten Past.

In the dimly lit alley of a city that never sleeps, Rixa finds herself in a precarious situation. With vibrant, untamed red hair and horns curving from her head, her unique appearance is the least intriguing thing about her. She's dressed in a punk-rock ensemble, an eclectic mix of leather and lace, adorned with trinkets and chains that seem to have more stories to tell. Her ears are pointed, and her eyes glint with a mischievous spark, even now as danger looms.

Pinned against the cold brick wall, the thugs loom over her. Their grips are tight, fingers digging into her skin as they dangle her with a threatening sneer. The words "You need to pay up or we are going to have to take payment in other ways," hang in the air like a foul scent. But Rixa? She grins, her smile a defiant blade against their brutishness.

"That's pretty kinky," Rixa retorts with a daring tilt of her head, her voice a melody of mockery and confidence. The thugs laugh, a chorus of scorn and disbelief, as they brand her an abomination, a creature beneath their concern. They couldn't be more wrong.

"Oh really?" Rixa's voice is silk, her eyes glinting. In an instant, her hands come up, and from her palms, a torrent of black smoke billows out. The spell she casts is as swift as it is dark, and the thug's laughter turns to coughs. Released from their hold, she hits the ground running, her feet pounding against the pavement as she darts out of the alley.

With a quick glance behind her, Rixa doesn't see the world in front of her, her mind racing with the thrill of escape and the anticipation of retribution. She's free, for now, a wild spirit against the city's underbelly.

Rixa's breath was ragged, her heart pounding in her chest as she fled. In her haste, the world was nothing but a blur of shadows and light. She collided with something unexpectedly solid, a force like hitting a wall, and she tumbled to the ground. Dazed, she looked up, her vision clearing to reveal the person she had run into.

It was a girl, standing amidst the hazy glow of the city's neon lights, an air of raw power swirling around her. She had striking features that commanded attention, a fierce energy emanating from her stance. Her hair was a cascade of darkness, flowing and wild, touched by streaks of silver that caught the ambient light. Her eyes, sharp and discerning, held a depth that seemed to pierce through the night.

The girl's attire was both tactical and defiantly stylish, from the structured jacket that hugged her frame to the heavy boots planted firmly on the wet pavement. Her gloves, knee pads, and utility belt suggested a readiness for unforeseen challenges. She was the calm in a storm, the still point in a turning world.

As Rixa gathered her wits on the cold ground, the sinister shadows of the thugs loomed closer, their grins wide and malicious. It was then the girl spoke, her voice cutting through the tension, "Hey you." Rixa and the thugs turned towards her, the former with a spark of hope, the latter with a flicker of doubt. "Are you in trouble?" the girl asked, her tone steady and strong. Rixa's response was a silent, urgent nod, her eyes conveying the gravity of her plight to this enigmatic potential savior.

The girl's warning hung in the air, a clear threat to the thugs who only responded with derision. They brandished their weapons with a crude confidence, one with the cold glint of a gun in hand. The girl exhaled deeply, a sigh of resignation, before she stepped out into the street, turning her back to the scene as the thugs focused on Rixa.

But their triumph was short-lived. As they pinned Rixa down, the leader barely managed to voice his taunt before his head vanished in an abrupt, gruesome spectacle. His lifeless body slumped to the ground, causing a moment of stunned silence before the girl's frustrated voice pierced the night. "Shit, that was too powerful. Let me try again."