False Gods: Disciple

Chapter One: Flickering Light

[Log Start] The Earth, as I once heard from the records, was a flourishing planet. Life once existed in every corner of the world... At least, it used to...

This Earth became a desolate, ravished, wartorn globe. Only towers, whose foundations could engulf entire cities remain, looming high above surrounding rubble.

The sun's merciless heat beats down upon this parched Earth, most of humankind hoveled within the towers' walls. Thousands of others however, are forced to live tooth and nail in these wastelands, struggling for survival, their pleas made furtively to us, who live safely within the tower walls. [End Log]

Empty cans, coated in layers of rust, clattered to the ground, Nemzio haphazardly throwing them from a heap of scrap, the pile never seeming to diminish against the pale, worn bricks

"Come on.. Let me find something," He muttered to himself. Nemzio was desperate for food back at home, not only for him but for his brother, and once sunset arrived, scavenging would be nearly impossible with other scavengers around.

Nemzio dragged a particularly large piece of concrete to the side, its jagged edges scraping against his calloused palms. Beneath this was a cache of unopened cans, their labels degraded after so many years, but in the shadow, they seemed intact.

"Hey kid," Nemzio jumped at the sound of a new voice, and reflexively placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, eyes flicking left and right, surveying the area. "You might wanna hand those over;" the voice continued, it belonged to a man by the sound of it, a tough one at that.

"Ya see, this is our turf, but if you hand those over, we'll let ya go, no fuss." He announced, voice carrying loudly across the room as he made his leisurely approach, grinning smugly at Nemzio.

"You shouldn't underestimate your enemy, anyone in the wastes should know that that's-" Nemzio unsheathed his sword, "-A good way to get sent to Hell!" He shouted, lashing out at the man, the tip of his ancient blade appearing to draw a shallow line of blood from the man's chest.

"You bastard! Do you know who you're dealing with?!" he roared, clutching his chest to stop the wound, his other hand sliding to his waist, unsheathing a dull longsword. Nemzio stood atop his pile of scrap and got a good look at the man. He was of average height, muscular, and wearing a faded T-shirt with torn sleeves in combination with his ripped trousers.

"Now I do," Nemzio replied simply, "And now I'm confident-" He broke off, hearing footsteps from above, glancing quickly above him, he thrust the flat of his blade above his head to block an attack from a man in the rafters, then, swiftly countering the attack, he raked his blade across the attacker's stomach as they tried to get out of range.

"Two against one-" Nemzio pointed out, his voice shifting from surprise to a chilling calm as he advanced towards the pair sword drawn; blood on the tip forming a large, crimson teardrop, glinting in the fading sunlight.

Nemzio dashed forward, closing distance between him and the two thugs near instantly. He swung his blade horizontally, testing the first guy's reflexes, and how well he could use the longsword. The thug parried the attack with ease, lunging forward and past Nemzio as he sidestepped and turned, sending the second man's knife skating past his ribs, leaving a clean, shallow slit along his left side.

Nemzio winced in pain, but didn't stop, parrying the knife-user's next attack before rolling past a diagonal slash from the longsword.

"You two are a pretty good team," complimented Nemzio, letting a two-handed swing from the longsword user slide down the tip of his blade as he held it above him, while avoiding the knife-wielder's relentless assault, "But I can see right through you," he continued, thrusting the length of his blade straight through the knife user's hand with a well timed parry. They cried out, knife clattering on the ground as the hilt slipped free, the gleaming knife coated in dirt and blood. Nemzio, lips curled viciously as he tore his blade jaggedly out of their hand, tearing longways across their palm. "Don't expect an mercy from me, I'm just doing what I have to to survive," Nemzio said icily, resuming a fighting stance to face the remaining thug.