Asher

Dawn Era, Year 423.

The first Sunday of June was met with a deathly silence over the patchy brown and yellow landscape.

In a corner of this desolate land, a rock stirred, and a rock scorpion, nearly a meter in length, emerged from beneath it. Since the Battle of Dawn, half of Earth's species had vanished. The majority of those that remained had evolved into dangerous creatures.

The surviving humans called these beings "Hazardous Species."

The rock scorpion was on the hunt for food when suddenly, an immense and ominous presence arose from afar. It was so vast, it was as if a mountain range had taken to the sky. The scorpion looked up to see a shadow creeping across the land.

This shadow was so expansive it nearly spanned the horizon. Moving at a slow but steady pace, the shadow was cast by a floating island as large as the state of Texas—Babylon, one of humanity's greatest creations post-Dawn Battle. Powered by Cubic energy, Babylon followed a predetermined orbit around the planet, much like a near-Earth satellite.

By evening, Babylon was but a silhouette against the distant sky. The desert came alive once more. Creatures like the rock scorpion began to move towards the western edges of the desert, where a small mining town lay. To these creatures, humans were nothing more than delectable prey.

The town was small, home to a few hundred souls. The dwellings were simple, with tin shed houses considered luxurious. Most were makeshift shanties of wood and rusted metal.

A perimeter of barbed wire and sharpened wooden stakes encircled the town, deterring the less formidable Hazardous Species. At night, a handful of hunters stood guard at the town's exits, torches ablaze.

Nightfall didn't bring complete darkness to the wilderness outside the town. Blue, green, and red phosphorescence flickered in the dark. Suddenly, a rough gunshot echoed from the town's entrance, and the wandering lights in the night dwindled.

A man in a cowboy hat, clad in a patchwork plaid shirt and worn jeans tucked into greasy boots, holstered his still-smoking double-barreled shotgun. In his prime, with steely blue eyes and a face framed by a bristly blue beard, he cursed under his breath.

"Damn, Hazardous Species are multiplying."

"Come on, Uz. You're the best hunter in town. More creatures mean more money for you, right? I bet you're secretly thrilled," teased a bald black man with an eyepatch over his left eye and a mechanical prosthetic for his right leg. He carried a submachine gun, second-hand but more powerful than the cowboy's shotgun.

"Shut it, Biggs. I'm serious," the cowboy retorted, clearly annoyed.

"Ease up, Biggs. Don't rile Uz. He's not in the mood," chimed in the last hunter, sporting a miner's hat and a leather jacket, an odd combination. He twirled a dagger in his hand, the blade casting orange halos in the firelight.

Biggs laughed, slapping his head. "Right, I almost forgot. Loretta's due tonight."

"That's not the worst of it, Biggs. Our dear Uz here hasn't even kissed Loretta, and she's about to pop," the dagger-wielding hunter added with a sardonic chuckle.

Uz's angry voice cut through the night, "For the love of God, if you don't shut up, I'll use this gun on you!"

Their laughter only grew louder, and just as Uz was about to act, a woman's piercing scream came from within the town. The hunters looked towards the town as Biggs sighed, "Some lucky bastard got to Loretta. But any man who leaves a woman like that... ain't no man at all."

The knife-wielding hunter turned to Uz, his voice grave, "What's your plan, Uz? Loretta's not just a girl now; she's a mother."

"No matter who she is, I'll take care of her!" Uz declared, brooking no argument.

A barely audible sigh drifted away with the wind at the town's edge.

In a modest tin house at the town's center, several middle-aged women bustled around a bed.

"Push, Loretta. I can see his little head."

"For God's sake, spread your legs a bit more."

"That's it. Use your abdominal strength, miss!"

Childbirth was arduous, but it was only the first hurdle for a new life. Fortunate for this infant, he had a strong mother. With a final, guttural cry, the new life was born.

"Look, it's a boy." A woman with short hair wrapped the newborn in a tattered blanket and placed him before his mother.

The young mother, exhausted, gazed at her blood-streaked son. His nose was straight, and his large, bright red eyes curiously surveyed this strange new world. His lips were a firm line, hinting at defiance. Unlike other newborns, he was eerily quiet.

The women whispered among themselves until the short-haired woman silenced them with a glare. She spoke softly, "Loretta, he's your son. Have you thought of a name?"

The young mother nodded, her eyes filled with complex emotions, and whispered, "Asher. His name is Asher."

At the sound of his mother's voice, the baby's expression tightened. He turned his head to the woman who had given him life and, for the first time, his lips curled into a smile.

He laughed.

Seeing this tender smile, the mother felt the flames in her heart subside.

In June of the Dawn Era, Year 423, Asher was born, his first memory being his mother's beautiful, weary face. And while people remembered the infant who did not cry, none knew that Asher was born with memory.

The world moved on, the gears of time grinding ever forward. The elite on Babylon enjoyed their pleasures, and Maurice, the newly elected president, had just celebrated a grand feast. Meanwhile, in an inconspicuous corner of the world, an extraordinary life had begun.

Fate has a way of leaving little surprises when least expected.

Dawn Era, Year 428, on the last Saturday of autumn, the clang of the winter supply rally rang through the town.

As a woman carrying a large sack of food entered an alley, several men nodded to each other and followed.

As dusk fell and night descended, the woman in the alley realized she was being followed. She quickened her pace. Just as the men were about to strike, a double-barreled shotgun emerged from the shadows, its dark muzzle silencing them.

Uz, still in his cowboy attire, stepped out from the shadows, shotgun raised. A cigarette dangled from his lips, nearly spent. He spat out the butt and growled, "Get lost!"

The men retreated under the threat of the gun and disappeared into the alley. Uz approached the woman, "Looks like I got back just in time, Loretta."

Lifting her headscarf, she revealed a lovely face and sighed, "I owe you another one."

"Don't mention it. I might need your free medical services if I get hurt," Uz joked, tipping his hat with the gun's barrel, a broad smile on his face.

"Here, let me carry that. Looks heavy."

Uz took the bag from Loretta, and they walked home together to a tin house—simple, but sturdy enough to withstand winter's chill. As they entered, a small figure crashed into Loretta's arms. She scooped him up. Under the light was a five-year-old boy, more robust than his peers.

His rare silvery-gray hair shimmered under the light, like a myriad of tiny stars.

The boy's youthful face already bore sharp features, promising a handsome man in the making. But now, a small bruise marred his cheek, causing Loretta to frown, "What happened?"

Panic flashed in the boy's eyes before he looked to Uz for help. Uz shrugged helplessly, and the boy bit his lip, "Today, Moss from next door called me a white-haired pig, so I..."

He glanced at Loretta's stern expression and continued, "So I punched him in the nose, then he pushed me down, and I got this by accident. But don't worry, Mom, I sorted him out. He won't dare call me that again."

Uz whistled, "Not bad, Asher. Moss is a year older than you, right?"

"To be exact, he's 13 months older!" Asher corrected.

Loretta shot Uz a glare, and he fell silent. She sighed, stroking the boy's hair, "Asher, not everything can be solved with fists. And what if you meet someone you can't beat?"

Asher's bright red eyes spun, and he blurted, "I'll run away, then come back when I'm bigger and stronger to settle the score!"

Proudly, he added, "But Mom, I haven't met anyone I can't beat yet. Uncle Uz taught me some great stuff."

Uz's face twisted with embarrassment as Loretta turned to him, and he chuckled, "I only taught him how to protect himself, really."

"I just remembered, Biggs needed to discuss something with me, so I'll head off now."

With that, Uz beat a hasty retreat. Watching his back, Loretta shook her head, "Come on, let's have dinner."