The morning sun bathed the fields of Augustine in gold, but a quiet tension clung to the air like smoke.Orion and Cyrus moved through their morning routine in silence, a heaviness hanging over them they couldn't quite name.
"Morning, old man."
"Morning, Orion," Cyrus replied, his eyes distant. "Feels like something's... wrong today."
They loaded the carriage with practiced ease, but unease settled deeper with each passing moment. As they tied down the last crate, Cyrus glanced toward the rising sun. "Let's move. The city waits for no man."
Then a voice cut through the stillness.
"Well, well... it's been a while, Cyrus. Or should I say—Cyrus the Eternal Flame?"
They turned sharply.
Leaning against a nearby building, arms crossed and a cruel smile curling his lips, stood Sheriff Malden. The malice in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Malden," Cyrus growled, stepping in front of Orion.
With a flick of his wrist in a quick draw motion, tendrils of dark energy lashed out from Malden like serpents, hissing through the air. One struck the house behind them, the shockwave shaking the earth. Inside, Orion's family stirred awake—moments before their world came crashing down.
Malden's aura surged. Cracks split the walls of Orion's home. Then, faster than Orion could blink, a tendril of shadow shot forth, piercing Cyrus through the side. The old warrior staggered, managing to avoid a fatal blow—but he bled.
"No!" Orion screamed as the house collapsed, fire blooming from the blast. The screams of his family were snuffed out beneath the rubble, leaving only silence and smoke.
He froze. His body wouldn't move. His home, his family—everything—was gone.
Malden laughed.
"Guess I overdid it. But harboring a wanted man? That's a crime equal to the outlaw in question...Should've stayed gone, Cyrus."
As the flames devoured what remained, Cyrus gripped Orion's arm.
"It's too late for them," he said, voice tight with pain. "We have to go. Now!"
They fled in the carriage, Malden's mocking laughter echoing behind them like a curse.
By the time they reached the outskirts, Cyrus was fading. Blood poured from his wounds.
"Orion…" he gasped. "Listen to me. I carry a chaos shard. When I die... it'll pass to you."
"No. Don't say that. You're not dying," Orion said, his voice cracking.
"It's the only thing that can stop him." Cyrus coughed, hard. "Go to Constellion. Find my old crew. They'll help you."
With those final words, Cyrus slumped over, the light fading from his eyes. The shard of chaos pulsed within him, slowly transferring to Orion, binding their fates together even in death. Orion felt the shard settle into his own body—hot, ancient, and alive.
Constellion
The city was loud, crowded—but Orion felt empty. He wandered aimlessly, asking about the Eternal Flame gang, but no one seemed to know anything. Hope withered.
Eventually, he stumbled into a dimly lit tavern. Smoke and old ale filled the air. He approached the bar.
"I'm looking for the gang of the Eternal Flame," he said quietly.
The barkeep raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
"Cyrus sent me. I need answers."
The tavern fell silent.
"Cyrus… the Eternal Flame? Haven't heard that name in years…"
A figure stepped out of the shadows. A tall man with a scar across his face, graying hair, and sharp, weathered eyes.
"Typical. Sends a kid to do his dirty work."
"I need your help," Orion said.
"Help?" The man scoffed. "Boy, what you need is to leave my bar."
"I'm not leaving. Not until you talk."
The man walked up to Orion, face-to-face.
"I wasn't asking."
Orion hesitated, turned to go—but stopped in the doorway.
"Tell Cyrus to be a man and come himself next time."
"There won't be a next time," Orion said, voice low. "Cyrus is dead."
The man froze. The room fell quiet again.
Jace paused, studying Orion intently, the look in his eyes showing the truth behind his words.
The tavern was silent, the weight of Orion's words hanging thick in the air. Jace's expression hardened, his jaw tightening as he processed the news.
"Dead?" he repeated. The word hit him like a punch.
"Sheriff Malden killed him. And my family."
He clenched his fists.
"He told me to come here. To find you. Said you'd help."
"So that's how it ends, huh? He really couldn't outrun it," he muttered. "After all these years…"
He looked back at Orion, studying him.
Orion stepped forward, desperation creeping into his voice. "He told me to come here. To find you. He said you could help me."
"Help you? Why should I? That bastard abandoned us two decades ago. Left us to rot while he played house in the countryside."
"Because I've got nothing left," Orion replied. "And I don't know what else to do."
For a long moment, Jace said nothing. But he saw it—the fire behind the boy's eyes.
A spark of Cyrus. Not the man who left, but the man he once followed, Jace sighed, rubbing his temples and turned to the others in the tavern—grizzled men and women watching in silence.
"What do you all think?"
One by one, they stood and nodded.
Jace cursed under his breath.
"Fine. One week. That's all you get."
"What?"
"We're going to train you if you cant survive that then you'll be out on your ass faster than you can blink."
Orion stayed. And the real trial began.
The Training
The training was relentless. Jace didn't hold back, nor did the others. They drilled Orion day and night—combat, strategy, survival. If he faltered, they knocked him down. If he failed, they made him do it again.
But Orion endured.
Through bruises and exhaustion, through the ache of his body, he pushed forward. Not because he wanted revenge, but because he needed it.
At the end of the week, Jace stood before him, arms crossed.
"You're not ready for 5 Points."
Orion tensed. "Then why waste my time?"
Jace smirked. "You're not ready for them. But you're ready to lead."
Orion blinked, stunned.
"We're done, Orion. We're too old for this fight. It's time for a new generation to take over."
He pulled a gold ring from his finger, tossing it to Orion.
"And that means you."
One by one, the others handed him their rings—symbols of a legacy passed on.
"We were strong because we stood together," Jace continued. You want vengeance? Build a crew. Find people who believe in something. Make them believe in you."
Orion looked at the rings in his hand, their weight sinking into his soul.
"I… I'm not sure I can."
"You will," Jace said, resting a hand on his shoulder. Then he stepped back.
Jace cracked his knuckles.
"But first—one last test."
Before Orion could think, Jace lunged. The attack was swift, but Orion moved on instinct, blocking with ease and countering with a force that sent Jace staggering to the ground.
Jace smirked, looking up at Orion.
"Heh, you'll do just fine. Now listen up: if you're going to carry our name, we have an image to uphold. We never target women or children, and we don't waste time on those weaker than us. There's no glory in picking on someone you know you can defeat. However, when you make a name for yourself, there will always be someone trying to prove something, so don't go getting yourself in a situation you can't get out of."
Orion exhaled, steadying himself. He looked at the rings, then at the men who had once been the most feared gang in the land.
He had his title, and now, he had a path.
As he turned toward the door, stepping into the night, one thought burned in his mind.
Malden.
He was coming for him, and he would burn 5 Points to the ground to do it.
Jace took a shot and leaned back in his chair.
"If you survive long enough, maybe you'll be the one to fix this broken world."