First Light of a New Age

Chapter 86: The Current Imbalance

1970, Saturday, 4th Week, August

In a small room that was dimly lit by the faint glow of a night light shaped like a dragon. Posters of mythical creatures plastered the walls from dragons flying through stormy skies, elves aimed with bows drawn, and warriors from games he'd grown up playing with their swords glowing with magical energy. In the corner sat a shelf, cluttered with figurines of heroes and monsters alike. The boy, no more than ten, sat cross-legged on his bed, clutching a worn book in his hands. It was his father's, full of stories from lands he could only dream of.

"🎵 It's just me, myself, and I. Stuck in my bedroom living in this world you left behind… 🎵”

His eyes flicked toward the window, half-expecting to see his father appear on the other side. He never did. The boy closed his eyes and continued, letting the words carry him.

"🎵 Dreaming of all these monsters that I'll never get to fight…🎵"

His heart ached. He could picture his father, brave, strong, and adventurous, out there somewhere, battling creatures like those in his games. The thought both thrilled and terrified him.

"🎵 But boy, I wish I could so I could bring this world some light! 🎵"

The lyrics came easily, but the boy's throat tightened. His father had left when he was young, too young to understand why or where he'd gone. All that remained were stories and tales of battles that his father told him in bed.

"🎵 Cause I'm stuck with your stories. But no clue who you are…🎵" he sang, his voice softer now, like a whisper in the dark.

Tears pricked at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He had to be strong, just like the heroes on his walls.

"🎵 And no idea if you're dead or just too far…🎵 " 

The boy’s gaze fell to the open book in his lap. His father’s words were written inside, his handwriting looping and jagged in places, as if he’d been in a hurry. He couldn’t read the last note clearly, but he didn’t need to. He knew his father had been searching for something, or someone, important.

The boy raised his chin, determination filled his young heart. 

"🎵 Somebody tell me, come and give me a sign. If I fight those monsters. Is it you I'll find?🎵"

He took a deep breath as his voice grew louder now and the words bounced off the walls. 

"🎵 But so then. Give me sirens and cyclops! Give me werewolves and a hydra…🎵"

He stood with his fist clenched, as if ready to take on the creatures himself. 

"🎵 I know life and fate are scary. But I wanna be legendary! 🎵"

His voice wavered on the final note. He imagined himself, sword in hand and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with his father, ready to fight every beast and monster the world could throw at him.

"🎵I'll fight vampires and chimeras. The minotaurs, even Cerberus. I know life and fate are scary, but I wanna be legenda-"

And then—

Thud!

The memory shattered.

He was no longer in his small bedroom, no longer a boy with dreams, but was replaced by an intimidating dark cloak man on the busy street and the noise of Aquarius city crashing into him like waves.

He was interrupted when a man had bumped into him hard, knocking him out of his thoughts.

"Watch where you’re going, bitch," the man snarled, shoving past without a second glance.