Kenzie stood in the storage room, looking up at the swirling portal of Negative Harmony above him. Its dark vortex churned violently, an abyss ready to swallow him whole. Suddenly, black lights poured out from the portal like rain, cascading over him. A wave of dread washed over him as the dark lights seemed to seep into his skin, filling him with a chilling negativity that twisted his thoughts and emotions. It was as if all the joy and hope had been drained from the world, leaving only an oppressive darkness in its wake.
In a split second, Kenzie found himself standing in the middle of the night. The wind howled around him, whipping through his hair and clothes with an almost feral intensity. The night was strangely illuminated, bathed in an eerie, silvery light. As he looked up, he saw not one, but six moons, each varying in size and brightness, casting an otherworldly glow across the landscape. He realized he was standing on the rooftop of a towering structure, the edges dropping off into a seemingly endless void below.
“Hope you are a worthy opponent,” came a voice from behind him. Kenzie quickly turned to see a man standing a few feet away. The man’s hair was very long and wavy, a striking blond that caught the moonlight. His green eyes were fierce and clever, filled with a penetrating intensity. His lips curled into a slight smile, adding an air of confidence to his fair face. He stood tall and straight, his demeanor exuding subtlety and poise. He was dressed in an elaborate battle suit, complete with intricate armor that gleamed in the silvery light. The wind tugged at the man’s cloak, adding to his imposing presence as he faced Kenzie with a calm, almost eerie composure.
In the blink of an eye, the man vanished, leaving only a whisper of his presence in the chilling night air. “Or an ally, perhaps,” Kenzie heard from directly behind him, the voice sending a shiver down his spine.
Panic surged through Kenzie as he spun around to find the man standing there, his presence both unsettling and intriguing. Adrenaline coursed through him, and he quickly moved away, instinctively summoning his Echo. The air crackled around him as he focused, readying himself for whatever might come next, every nerve alert and on edge in the eerie stillness that followed the stranger’s sudden reappearance.
“I can sense anger in you,” the man said, his green eyes piercing through the darkness.
In response, Kenzie pressed a chord from his Echo, feeling the familiar energy surge as it morphed in his hand. The ethereal light transformed into a sleek sword, its blade shimmering with a faint glow.
“Enough talking. Let’s fight,” he said, lifting his sword and assuming a ready stance, his expression shifting to one of fierce resolve.
The man motioned his hand, signaling that he wasn’t finished. His demeanor betrayed not a hint of fear or tension. Instead, he exuded an unsettling calmness that only heightened Kenzie’s unease.
“You are the second Resonant to enter the Negative Harmony,” he continued. “Your father was the first one.”
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication.
“The entity your father fought was just for me to test the waters,” he continued, his tone mocking. “But do you think you have even the slightest chance of defeating me?”
In an instant, the man vanished again. Kenzie’s eyes widened as he tried to track his opponent’s movement. This time, he realized the man wasn’t disappearing; he was moving so fast that it seemed like he was vanishing into thin air.
Before Kenzie could react, he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest. The impact was so powerful that he was thrown backward, rolling across the ground. His sword clattered away from his grasp, and he struggled to regain his breath as the pain radiated through his body. The world around him spun as he tried to push himself up, his mind racing to comprehend the speed and strength of his adversary.
As soon as Kenzie regained his footing, he was met with a barrage of blows. Each strike came with lightning speed and precision, a brutal mix of punches and kicks that left him reeling. He could barely register one hit before another landed, pain erupting in waves through his battered frame. His opponent moved with such speed and agility that Kenzie felt as if he were fighting a phantom, each blow a reminder of the immense power he faced.
Kenzie’s attempts to defend himself were futile. His arms ached from trying to block the attacks, his legs buckled under the onslaught, and his vision blurred with each impact. It felt like he was trapped in a nightmare, each second stretching into an eternity of pain and struggle.
While enduring the random hits, Kenzie summoned his sword back into his hand. With all his remaining strength, he swung it in a powerful, sideward slash. The force of his attack was so intense that the wind seemed to wallop around him, yet his blade only cut through empty air.
As the momentum of his swing carried him around, he refocused and saw his rival standing far away, completely composed. The man’s stance was calm, his expression unchanged, as if the ferocious assault had been nothing more than a casual exercise.
Kenzie tried to weigh the situation. He knew the gap between their abilities. His eyes darted around, searching desperately for an escape route, but found none.
“This is all my father’s fault,” he thought bitterly, his emotions swelling within him. Anger at his father surged, intensifying his resolve.
Fueled by this rage, Kenzie dashed toward his enemy, his attacks now driven by raw fury. He channeled his anger into each strike, his movements becoming faster and more aggressive. He swung his sword with a newfound intensity, aiming to overwhelm his opponent with the sheer force of his assault. His opponent’s speed matched his own, effortlessly avoiding every blow. The man’s movements were fluid and precise, each dodge executed with an almost mocking ease. Despite Kenzie’s relentless onslaught, his enemy remained untouchable, his calm composure unbroken amidst the flurry of attacks.
Kenzie’s breath came in ragged gasps as he continued to press forward, his frustration mounting with each missed strike. The gap between them seemed insurmountable, yet he refused to back down, driven by a desperate need to prove himself and to unleash the anger burning within him.
Soon, his opponent struck again. A powerful kick landed squarely on Kenzie’s chest, the force so immense that he was thrown violently backward. He hurtled through the air, his body colliding with the edge of the tower. Desperation fueled his reflexes. In a swift, instinctive move, Kenzie plunged his sword into the ground, the blade biting into the stone and halting his fall. He clung to the hilt, his body dangling precariously over the edge. Gritting his teeth, Kenzie pulled himself up, muscles straining as he fought to regain his footing on the narrow ledge.
As soon as Kenzie managed to climb back onto solid ground, he was met with a sword pointed directly at his face. The weapon was strikingly similar to his own, but its blade was a dark purple and black, swirling with an eerie energy that seemed to pulse and emanate from its core.
“Kill me,” Kenzie said, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. He stared into his opponent’s fierce green eyes, defiance and resignation warring in his expression as the dark blade hovered mere inches from his skin.
His opponent lowered his sword and said, “I can feel your anger, son.” His expression softened, a hint of sorrow crossing his features. The shift in demeanor was disarming.
“Let me help you,” his opponent continued. “Let us channel that anger to a purpose. I will make you strong. I will give you purpose. I will give you what your father failed to give you.”
Kenzie’s mind raced as those words hung in the air. He felt a tumultuous mix of emotions—anger, confusion, and a flicker of hope. The man’s proposition was enticing, the promise of strength and purpose tempting in the face of his own frustration and bitterness.
“There are many like you who will need my help. Help me reach them and help them with their sorrows.” The man extended his hand, offering it for a shake.
Kenzie stared at the outstretched hand, his thoughts a whirlwind.
“Who are you?” Kenzie said.
“I am the Light-Bringer.”
Without a word, Kenzie extended his hand and shook his opponent’s.
* * *
“They are here, Kenzie,” Kellan said with a steady voice. He held up a pair of binoculars, focusing intently on the scene below.
They were standing on the rooftop in the early morning, the sky still dark with only the faintest hint of dawn creeping along the horizon.
Standing next to Kellan was a girl with dark blue hair, tied neatly behind her in a practical, yet stylish ponytail. Her sharp eyes gleamed with a calculating intelligence, as if she could assess every situation in an instant. She wore a sleek, fitted jacket over a dark blouse, paired with practical pants and sturdy boots, an outfit designed for both movement and utility.
Beside Kenzie stood a tall man, his short black hair neatly cropped, emphasizing the ruggedness of his strong jawline. His muscular frame was visible beneath a simple, dark shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, and fitted jeans that accentuated his tough build. He exuded an air of quiet strength, his posture confident and unwavering.
“Do you think they’ve found the Resonance Key?” Titus asked Kenzie.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Kenzie replied. “Do not use your Echoes unless absolutely necessary. I have a strong feeling that my father can detect their energy. That’s likely how he figured out about the tracking device Kellan put on their vehicle.”
“If soon it leads to a fight, then each of you should pick your opponent,” Kenzie continued. “Ivy, summon a Gore Hound. That way, it’ll be five against five. I’ll handle my father.”
“Are you sure you can handle your father?” Ivy asked. “If you remember, he easily vaporized the Gore Hound I summoned at Maplewood University.”
“The Light-Bringer believes I can,” Kenzie answered.
Everyone nodded silently.
“They are entering the hotel now,” Kellan remarked.
“Turn on the bug, Ivy,” Kenzie said.
Ivy nodded and pulled out a small, sleek device from her pocket. She carefully adjusted a few settings on its touch screen before pressing a button to activate it. The bug was sophisticated, designed to transmit audio wirelessly to their receiver. She handed a compact earpiece to Kenzie, then took one for herself.
Kenzie inserted the earpiece, adjusting it slightly to fit snugly. He then turned on a handheld receiver, a device about the size of a smartphone, which began to emit a faint static. Ivy fine-tuned the frequency, and the static gradually cleared, replaced by the ambient sounds of the empty room they were monitoring. The hum of an air conditioner, and the occasional creak of the building were all they could hear for now.
“They’re not in their room yet,” Ivy whispered, her eyes focused on the receiver’s display.
“We’ll wait until we pick up their conversation,” Kenzie replied.
A few minutes later, the faint sound of a door creaking open came through the receiver, followed by the soft thud of footsteps entering the room. The rustling of fabric suggested someone was taking off a jacket or setting down a bag. There was the distinct click of a light switch being flipped. The muffled scrape of chairs being moved and the soft clink of metal, possibly keys or coins, being placed on a table followed. Soon after, they heard the sounds of zippers being pulled and items being packed into suitcases
“Where’s the Conductor?” They heard a female voice.
“Professor Mackenzie went directly to the hotel lobby to check out.” A male voice responded. “He told me to bring his suitcase with us.”
“We’re moving to a new hotel.” Another male voice chimed in.
“Where?” the female voice asked again.
“Professor Mackenzie said we’re going to find one nearest to the cave,” replied the first male voice.
“Remember that the spy probably knows we’re staying here. We need to be more careful,” A different male voice added.
“The gold tuning fork, is it still with the Conductor?” the female voice then asked.
Ivy removed her earpiece and turned to Kenzie. With a thoughtful expression she continued. “Maybe we can lure your father to come to us,” she suggested. “After all, he thinks you’re already dead.”
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