A powerful surge assaulted David's senses, and panic abruptly seized his thoughts. His hand instinctively reached for the comforting coldness of steel, his newfound courage.

  " You are being pulled away, " Brahan stated matter-of-factly. His advice, cryptic and enigmatic, hung in the air. " Remember to always side with the underdog and prevent rock-on-rock violence! "

  With a flourish of fluttering sleeves, Brahan waved goodbye. Unease settled over David at the words as a feeling of space folding occurred around him.

  How had Brahan known before he had? A last alarmed stare, begging for a lifeline, was cast upon Brahan. To David's astonishment, they weren't the twin orbs of yellow warmth he had become accustomed to from the old man but instead burning gold orbs with slitted pupils of black.

  ---------------

  David was dropped out of a rift in space, a tear in the fabric of reality itself, as a blue text box popped into existence.

  Once more, David found himself in a cavernous hall, where ancient columns mounted with torches lit the darkness with warming light.

  His once-fearful mind sought courage within as he gazed about. Scuttling browns, he had discovered before, scuttled about in familiar-looking halls. Children dressed in nothing but fur, linen, and wool battled over the sparse resources.

  A flash of red and green caught his attention. Something foreign had invaded the place he had previously ventured out into. Two more insects had joined the brown beetle as they increased the diversity of sustenance he could procure.

  Sporting a shape that defied logic, with brown multifaceted eyes sunken into its chitinous plates, three antennae adorned its head in multi-directional guidance, the head elevated far off the ground, the gaster scarping the cavernous halls, and a thorax bending forward and low was an ant, unlike anything he had ever seen.

  It sported massive chitinous plates colored in deep crimson, massive hooks at the end of each of its many legs, and sinuous straw-like needles replaced its mandibles.

  The ant, towering as tall as David himself, was ultimately subdued by a determined group of five youths who worked together in a concerted effort. Through a collective sense of urgency, they cracked its hardened shell, skillfully evading its clumsy, lumbering movements, and watched it bleed out.

  With shrieks of pain, as the creature bled out, the children danced about ripping chunks of succulent flesh from within cracked chitin. Some even began to drink its blood.

  A gentle breeze of lyrical delight danced across his ear, a fleeting whisper of beauty amid the chaos. Another blue box materialized, violently interrupting his view of the macabre scene.

  With curiosity, the white-on-blue text disappeared from his view. What was a bite of surprise delight, David wondered, watching all the children erupt in a brawl before him.

  A quick gaze ran to the gray-skinned youths, analyzing their behavior. The tussle ended with practiced kicks, fists, and the occasional use of the forehead.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  While not entirely mechanical, the fight was choppy and appeared wooden on the surface. Underneath the sight, currents stirred within David as a scene of the past broke through his mind.

  All strikes were direct. The powerful force of rotation from the hips ended in vicious strikes aimed at the neck. While mostly off target, the nails of the younger than adults once hit bit deep neutralized targets in the blink of an eye.

  Even seemingly random kicks quickly brought foes to their knees; unable to rise again, these children were the first to succumb.

  With the dust having settled, two opportunistic outsiders had claimed victory over the initial five as they devoured the prize of the now-dead red ant.

  Children tore into the pieces of meat, eagerly consuming them while washing them down with streams of hemolymph. Meanwhile, another group of opportunists appeared as the conflict continued.

  David remained impassive, hand on the leather-wrapped hilt, scanning the bodies of the initial five. Four of them had no signs of life, no groaning moans or stirring of the hand, but the smallest of the bunch's chest rose in labored breath.

  Quick steps made short work of the distance separating David from the runt of the pack. As he knelt, he scanned the wounds. Deep gashes revealed meat in the shoulders, broken bones penetrated the skin of the shin, and numerous minor ailments along the arms deepened the method used to attack the child.

  Currents that had stirred within David were all but confirmed now. This was a style David had been familiar with before the Green had changed his world—a particularly vicious style focusing on quickly overpowering opponents in lethal strikes.

  As David's epiphany struck, he realized the ramifications of his discovery: children trained in tiger-style martial arts. His mind remained puzzled, missing a crucial point.

  Just hours before this ordeal, all the children were... instinctual at best. Not the budding practitioners they now appeared to be. Had he needed longer to heal his broken body than he thought, or was something mystical at play here that he couldn't understand?

  With thoughts abound inside his head, David drew deep as a wind raised a faint divine hymn near him. He focused ever closer to his core as he visualized stitching flesh and setting bone.

  Inside his body, there seemed to be a miniature version of David's, tirelessly operating within the confines of an emergency hospital. This tiny figure wielded gleaming, sanitized instruments, navigating a world of sterile components with skilled precision. With unwavering focus, he meticulously tended to the wounds before him, infusing each action with a sense of urgency and care as if trying to heal the flesh and the spirit of those in need.

  A green glow suffused his hands and the child's leg as David's fingers danced about in grace. His claws traced the rough edges of spread skin and sharp points of broken bone.

  David's breath became faster and faster as something inside of him drained away, leaving him light-headed and bereft of might. He continued on.

  The green glow seemed to sputter as its shining light ebbed and flowed. Magical song quivered the air around the duo but held on with David's sheer determination.

  With a final pop, the air stilled, and the light disappeared; David gazed at his first real display of magic. Deep wounds and missing flesh still riddled the small youth before him, but no more shards of broken white penetrated his legs. David clicked his tongue in annoyance, as his magic hadn't fully cured the child.

  " This has to do little one, " David stated. " But try to lean into your tiny frame and strengths, as you were quicker than the rest. Guerilla tactics are your best bet. "

  The child's face was filled with confusion as he kept gazing back and forth between his legs and David.

  " Why did you heal me with the Song? " the child asked. " How are you able to use the song anyway? "

  " I wanted to; it's that simple. As to why? Brahan trained me in it. "

  " Brahan? " The child sputtered out. " The Brahan seer of the path? He is your oraculi?"

  Oraculi? It was a word David did not recognize. Annoyance began to fill him at his inability to ask Brahan about it, but he quickly pushed the feeling away.

  " Yes, " David stated simply.

  Next, the child's gaze fell upon the sword at David's hips.

  "You have a weapon? Already?! " the child shouted, eyes wide with surprise. The startled question sent a ripple of tension through the others, whose gazes narrowed as they approached.

  Preparing for a fight, David cast a gaze of scorn at the child at his feet as he drew his sword. With the flourish of ringing steel, he leveled his two-handed sword aggressively at his opponents.

  After the display of magical prowess, his body felt heavy and unresponsive, resisting the call of his will. It was as if a container of mysterious origin and ancient design had been depleted, leaving him weary and reluctant to engage.

  " Vom Tag, " An eery touch of a voice seemed to claw at his attention.

  An image filled his mind of a man wielding a sword even longer than his own. The man's torso slightly rotated to the right, both hands gripping the steel and extending it behind his back while wielding it high. Instinctually, David adjusted his stance to match the figures.

  With a half step backward and a turn of his hips, the broad blade whistled down from overhead. It picked up speed as David's enemy barely stepped in range.

  A heavy thunk, kicking up dust close to David's feet, sounded from the blade as it slammed into the ground.

  " Linke Nebenbut, " The voice sounded again, sending another image into his brain.

  Without casting another glance at the two lifeless pieces of meat that had once posed a threat to him, David focused intently on capturing the vivid image in his mind.

  David stepped forward with the blade tip resting on the ground, bending his front knee. He positioned the sword's tip behind him and kept the hilt close to his hips. As he swung, he greeted the enemy with a wide slash to the right, flexing and extending his wrists mid-swing.

  The youth's eyes turned gray as his torso separated from his legs. The fire of life was gone as David had turned him into a corpse.

  " Breathe, " the voice urged David, its tone sharp and insistent.

  With a sudden jolt, he became aware that he had stopped breathing, his mind reeling as the weight of his actions settled upon him. He had followed the cold, disembodied voice without question merely because his body was tired, leading him to commit the unthinkable act of ending the lives of two children—innocents barely older than... her.

  A dark and twisted sensation clawed at the fringes of David’s consciousness, a nauseating reminder of his transgression. Tightly bound in rusty chains, a memory tugged at the corners of his mind, and David desperately wished it would remain hidden, forever shrouded in darkness.

  " Forget, " the voice commanded, simple yet resonant.

  Those words pierced David's core, their power overwhelming and immediate. Like an incantation, they swept through him, and he felt the tendrils of that haunting memory begin to fade. It wasn’t erased; instead, it was wrapped once more in chains and cast into the abyss of his mind, submerged beneath the turbulent waters of his tumultuous thoughts.