A Cynic's Odyssey

Heralds. Humans that have been selected by the codex, a seemingly sentient system put in place by an unknown being that selects warriors, typically between the ages of seventeen to twenty, to wield great power and defend their world.

They use those gifts to venture forth and into the desolate world of the forgotten lands. Once they passed the first trial within this realm each one would come to possess a special and unique power that grants them the right, and ability to travel to the forgotten lands and slay the void born. Creatures corrupted by the same power the Heralds now wield.

Metahuman is a term humanity has given to the Heralds chosen by the codex. These people are ranked by the quality of their ether core, from weakest to strongest being awakened, ascended, Exalted, Luminary, Transcended, Ethereal, and Sovereign, while metahumans are separated into four classes.

Namely, class one metas, comprised of awakened and ascended Heralds. Class two metas are those who have reached the exalted, and Luminary ranks. Class three metas, Heralds of immense power that have reached the transcended and ethereal ranks. And finally class four metas. A rank reserved solely for the god-like existences known as sovereign's. The people of this rank are so few in number, that of the few hundred million surviving humans, there are less than ten.

As far as Mathew could tell, the metahuman that was in pursuit of them was no higher than class one, seeing as the task of catching up to a speeding car and killing them where they sat would be an all too easy one for those of higher classes.

Which was in itself a terrifying thought. If they were capable of that what other feats could they accomplish?

Mathew spun and watched in disbelief as the mysterious meta launched the jagged spear of ice forward like a missile. Shards of glass pelted them relentlessly from behind as the frozen projectile whistled past them and burst through the windscreen, striking the road a few dozen meters ahead.

The effect was practically instantaneous. Detonating on impact, and from it, a massive wall of ice erupted from the ground and stood tall like a glacier being born.

"Fantastic!" Mathew barked sarcastically.

"What's next, hail? Summon a snowstorm while you're at it!"

With yet another roadblock that gave them no choice, Mathew felt his stomach lurch as with an abrupt turn of the steering wheel, his mother sent the car screeching into a narrow alleyway.

The lead car reacted just as quickly, following them without losing a sliver of momentum, but the two following weren't so fortunate. Both collided head-on with the barricade of ice. Metal crunched and glass shattered. It was a cacophony of noise that barely registered through Kaleb's adrenaline-fueled haze.

The death toll only continues to rise.

They now only had one pursuer and somehow needed to make it out of the district and back to the highway. Bursting out of the alleyway and onto another busy street, their pursuers emerged racing down the street at high speeds, but it was too late. After slipping into a car park and shutting off the engine only a few moments earlier, they manage to lose their pursuers. It took nearly half an hour to accomplish, but finally, they had done it and made their way back to route one.

***

Now cruising down the highway, Mathew's gaze was locked on his mother. The young cynic was lost In thought for a while, then a few miles later, frowned and told her in a demanding tone.

"Stop the car!"

She looked at him with an expression that said, really? Ignored his ridiculous demand then looked back and continued driving.

A quiet moment passed. Then another. And another.

Finally having enough of his mother's silence and obscurity, Mathew snapped. Grabbing the steering wheel with both hands and wrestling it away from her. The car veered wildly from side to side, sending the car spinning out. The tires tore at the asphalt as she slammed her foot on the brakes, bringing the car to a bone-jarring halt in the middle of the road.

The short period of silence that followed was deafening. Broken only by the sound of Mathew angrily throwing a door open and getting out. His mother turned to him, enraged by his recklessness, and asked in an incredulous tone.

"Are you insane? You could've killed us!"

Mathew turned back, shot her an unimpressed glance, and said.

"Yeah, because you were doing such a stellar job of keeping us alive. I figured I'd just be speeding up the process."

Without granting her an opportunity to respond, he turned back and slammed the door shut.

She frantically undid her seat belt, got out of the car, and chased after him. Only a few seconds later she had caught up and grabbed his arm. With all the strength she could muster she pulled him back and demanded in her most authoritative tone.

"Get back into the car right now Mathew!"

The young cynic opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again, and as if returning her gesture, he kept silent and just yanked his arm out of her grasp.

"What the hell do you think you are doing? I said get! Back! In! The! Car!"

After a second thought, he finally said something, but it wasn't what she had expected to hear.

"What am I doing?... You're really asking me that?... What are you doing Mom? We're not in some crazy action movie. Did you miss the part where we were almost turned into roadkill back there?... Or am I just crazy and I imagined all that?"

His mother froze. Her expression softened as she tried to maintain her composure. She reached out once more but hesitated, her hand hovering in the air before retreating. Finally mustering up the strength and finding the courage she said, in an almost pleading tone.

"Mathew... I know how this looks. I know you have many questions, and you deserve answers to all of them. But I want you to know that I'm doing this to keep you safe."

Mathew's expression hardened further.

"Safe!? By speeding into oncoming traffic and refusing to stop?... Genius plan, Maybe next time we can try jumping off a bridge—double the thrill. I mean, we have the same odds of survival anyway, so why not!?"

His mother inhaled sharply, averting her eyes and glancing down the road from where they came. Steadying herself, she spoke in a firm but quiet tone, saying to him.

"Mathew, enough! I know you're angry, and honestly, you have every right to be. But you still can't speak to me that way and just walk away, regardless of what I've done. I am your mother."

She crossed her arms as her voice grew quieter, almost pained, then continued.

"Maybe I... miscalculated. But the last thing I need from you right now is your cynical sarcasm. So please Mathew. Just get back in the car. We'll talk about this later. But right now, we can't afford to waste any more time."

Mathew paused for a long moment and just stared at his mother. After a while his lips parted nd he said in the most irritated tone he could muster in that moment.

"This is just bullshit!"