Post by Asher. on Mar 5, 2019 22:19:02 GMT
[ CHAPTER X. The Dragon's Nest. ]
Before the lecture began, a middle aged woman scuffled to the podium. The Uron Brigade all took a collective moment to yawn and brace themselves against some words to inspire them to work harder. She looked about as inspiring as my geography teacher, and she gave up the will to try a long time ago. But when she spoke, every word was written in fire and emblazoned against the board.
"I realize that in this room there are vastly more teenagers than people my age and older, but if you'll excuse me dears, I'm speaking to the adults. She signals at the back left table. You are imbeciles. Cretins. All of you. You bring these kids here to solve problems they didn't create without telling them that there is an easy solution to all of it that doesn't require risking their lives. This doesn't empower them, it creates anxiety, and an irrational fear of failure. You bring them here and put them on stage, telling them that their generation will change the world, save the world. They can't. Of course they can't, but you can. You can and I'll tell you how."
A hologram is generated from naught, a rather large bodied male with no visible clothes tattooing himself on the white board's surface. It begins mimicking and acting out the speaker's words in different sequences and moments with visual representations.
"You have power and that's all these so called "Other Worldly's" care about. Power. Influence. Abilities. Makes you Gods, really. Just change the way you choose who defends what little we have here, and you'll change the world. Make boring changes, don't send anyone you don't need unless a fucking dimension is being torn open. Train them - He points to the children using most of the space in this classroom - to use as little power as possible when taking out their enemies. It's like... What's the word... Genocide, but much, much more fluid. Learn how to teach your own forces to serve you. None of this is difficult, and even if it was - the entire planet, your kids included, depend on you doing it."
Was this real? How'd they know how to garner his interest and keep it at a sub-par point all the same? He had no clue where they were going with their compendium of reports and fallacies, but he wants it to stop. His fist berates the desk and sends a plethora of splinters into the air. The God of Tranquility really wasn't having school today.
_____
It's as if the entire world stops to take a look at the scene he's causing behind them. The lecture is brought to an abrupt halt, the student in question slowly rising from his seat. His voice is thick, yet unheard, silk piercing the awkward silence and saying fuck you to the laws that prohibited it.
"May I be excused? I need to use the restroom."
A derelict, curved finger directs him to his desired locale.
He walks out of the door, debris and wood plastered to his knuckles. Out in the hallway. He was one of those greedy "Other Worldly" beings this woman spoke of, and albeit not true, those widespread lies incite a mean person in the heart of an all around docile teenager. He usually was better at taming that angry and intense side, but other times, the beast gets a little un-caged and wreaks havoc until its restrained. This was another part of his studies, but at such a young age, his mind will always be affected by the outcome and discovery, however strong it may be.
Before Avrim Ladon, before the Scarlet Moon Empire, before he'd garnered the title of One Punch King, there was the Uron Brigade, a collective of infantile Gods, an order for a world forsaken and regressing to ashes and dust.
With these notions in mind, the world becomes to resemble melting wax, spawning coalescent tendrils from the brink of reality. The hallway is no more, and with a few waves of ether accompanying his travels, he's gone.
_____
All he had, now, was a balance. Sometimes, the balance ( ether ) within his body is overcome by temperament ( nether ), which sort of fuels a shift in power. That power embodies his rage, and the rage permeates his mind and strengthens his fire. When this happens, there's a place he liked to visit, known as the Dragon's Nest, and upon arriving there as he did, the signature scent of cherry blossom's flood his nose. There's a Dojo erect, just beyond the town's limits that he frequents, but doesn't join. The Ryuusei Dojo holds no partners.
Still, his verdant hues love to wander, drawing him into peaceful spars and ramen. In this realm, there was no hatred, no darkness, only light. A Holy land, such as the scripture written on his back and etched to his soul forevermore. He steps forth, not phased in the slightest by the rigors of dimensional travel. That goes to show how profound and visceral he is, and at that age? That was all you needed, because your ambition and resolve was at its highest.
His uniform is a gray suit, embroidered with accents of green, or the color of life, as some may say, and a pair of black dress shoes. He's standing tall and looking good at a solid five foot eight, and weighing a total of one hundred and ninety five pounds, he's an ecto-mesomorph in this day and age, ( as opposed to the pinnacle of Gods we're used to seeing ) an immaculate muscle build still prevalent and noticeable.
He's wandering down the streets, filled with cries of the joyous, good-smelling foods, and 'welcome back's'.
Hyojin Elyon Ryuusei, as per the creator of this world, shall always be welcome, so when he's feeling as though his darker side is seeping through, he comes here, a simple town, devoid of darkness that degrades it, and its title.
After his usual wanderings through seas of people ceases, he'll walk to the Pond of Serenity. That's his location — Under the large oak, meditating. If anyone needed to find him, all they had to do was look for gold.