Chapter 6: The Day of Catastrophe

Eight years ago…

A creature that looked dressed for a Christmas party: a jumpsuit painted in red, brown and black, a white-based mask with an enthusiastic smile carved across it, and a weird pointed hat with two floppy points, each tipped with a bell.

…

Name: Quagmire, Clown of the Living

Classification: Nightmare

Scarlet Kin – Apocalypse Manifestation

Threat Level: Catastrophe+ (Uncontained)

…

The clown stood taller than any building in the human domain, tall enough to see for miles in every direction, yet it refused to stay still. It held a scythe nearly as tall as itself, swinging it while its movements shook the earth.

Flames, arrows, wind, earth, anything humans could throw at it… everything in their arsenal at that moment was futile against the Quagmire.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the Third District, Maroon, a child with hair held in cream locs, sat by the corpses of his entire family.

It took one swing from the Catastrophe-level threat to split his parents in two, parents who did everything they could to protect him.

Worse, the child’s house was destroyed in the process, and all the destruction happening outside—loud, horrific screams, explosions, desperate attempts for survival—ate into his mind.

Yet after sitting near their corpses for what felt like forever, unlike so many who’d lost their minds or their will to shed tears, this kid managed some.

Not a few, not little. The hiccups that wracked him for days were born of his terror that day.

“I had to pray every day to whoever cursed us, hoping… hoping I could become one. I wanted to be an Akuma too.”

Julien rested on his bed, eyes fixated on the white ceiling.

’Akuma’ was what some people without Inheritance called those who had one. It meant “devil”,” evil spirit”, or “demon.”

“Why pray for it? You could’ve been a Royal Knight, an engineer… anything. And if the Quagmire killed your parents, shouldn’t you hate Inheritance?”

Scar eyed Julien peripherally. He rested on his own bed in a similar position.

“Be for real, bro. I wanted to kill the Quagmire. You don’t do that with bruised fists or metal gadgets.” Julien clenched his fists. “These same people who call us Akuma will come running the moment another Catastrophe-level threat appears.”

He wore a soft smirk and shrugged his shoulders.

“The last time a Hostile‑level threat Dreamwalker appeared, most of them were pissing their pants. Even the so-called Royal Knights.

“So don’t expect me to care about their opinions when it comes to my vengeance.”

Scar smiled.

He had his share of trauma eight years ago. The same day Julien lost his parents, Scar lost his too, but under different circumstances.

He never saw the Quagmire, even though it was massive enough to be visible from his and Julien’s districts.

All he remembered was being pulled through a window and held tight under someone’s arm to save his life.

Scar abruptly sat upright and turned to Julien.

“Hey… what do you think? Maybe you could come with me to visit my old man sometime. We’ve got bread. The best around, actually.”

Julien turned to him with a confused expression, but it softened in seconds.

“Sure… but you know you need at least two wins in a row before you can go home, right?”

As soon as he spoke, Scar’s mouth fell open like his jaw had come unhinged. This had nothing to do with the duels and wins, but rather with the old fart, Isaac.

’He’d think I’m gay.’

Of course, he would.

All Scar wanted was to let the man who raised him see his first friend in eight years. Having asked Scar countless times to bring a lover home, Isaac was bound to jump to the wrong conclusion.

Scar slapped his forehead in disbelief.

“What’s wrong? You don’t think you can win the rest of your duels?” Julien asked, then immediately sat upright as well, his eyes sparkling.

“I saw your fight yesterday, Scar. Haven Velanora… she was way too into it. It was like she’d never seen humans before.”

He reached for his chin and stroked it for a second.

“Why would she care about you? You don’t look rich enough for someone like her to be your friend. Oh! Now I get it, she looked indifferent because she came to see Amell fight… and he lost.”

Scar could only give him a lazy stare. He felt so insulted. Sure, he didn’t have five bronze coins to his name and couldn’t even afford half a loaf of bread. But come on…

“You little fucker… so I can’t be her friend, but Amell can?”

Julien remained deadpan.

“Can you? This afternoon, you nearly died just asking a lady for salt… and she wasn’t even close to Haven’s beauty. What would happen if you actually spoke to her? Piss your pants?”

Scar had no intention of letting it end there. He clapped back, and before long, they were both throwing indirect insults at each other like kids.

While they spoke, a loud and persistent announcement caught their attention. The room had to fall completely silent before they could hear what it said.

“Alert! Intruder detected! A Scarlet Kin is approaching!”

…

Name: None

Classification: Daywalker

Scarlet Kin – Generic

Threat Level: Danger

…

“Ha! A Daywalker.”

As mere students of the Supreme Academy, they could only sit on the sidelines and watch the Moon Killers do their thing… until their levels decreased to tier-5 or below. Only then would the academy be more than a safe haven.

Scar’s mind, though, wandered elsewhere. Due to his situation, being pursued by his nemesis Dain, he couldn’t use his Inheritance, at least not in a way that would draw attention. But considering he’d be fighting every week until he reached tier-5, he needed to do more than throw fists.

This reminded him of something he’d been thinking about since he got his Inheritance.

The Precognition of Fate remained a loyal servant of the Ruler of Zeus. With their foresight, couldn’t they sense that the Flames of the Unknown still existed?

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