3 Name's Grey

The boy betrayed no hint of surprise at the revelation, his mind struggling to grasp the meaning of the unfamiliar words that had just been spoken.

"Wizard? One of you?" he repeated, his voice tinged with confusion.

"Ugh, this is gonna be tougher than expected," Tony muttered, rubbing his eyes wearily before squatting down beside the boy.

"For starters, my name is Tony Tolstoy – just call me Tony though," he said, extending his palm in a gesture of camaraderie.

"Your name?" the boy inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"Yep, now what's yours?" Tony responded, still expecting a handshake from the boy.

The boy fell silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in deep thought. It wasn't often that he had been referred to by a name – in fact, he struggled to recall any instance at all. But then, like a distant echo, a vague memory stirred within him – a faint recollection of being called by a name, by someone. At least, that's what he believed.

"G-grey," the boy – now Grey – introduced himself tentatively.

Tony immediately clasped Grey's hand in his own, causing the boy to startle in surprise. "That's a great name. Now, Grey, let me start from the beginning – well, that's for sometime later. Let's start with the basics," Tony suggested, his tone reassuring.

Grey couldn't shake the odd sensation that washed over him whenever Tony referred to him by name. It was a strange yet comforting concept – the idea of giving names and using them to address one another.

"Umm, so for the first thing first, we are Wizards – I, the crazy girl outside, and you too," Tony began, his voice laced with a mixture of patience and excitement. "We are different because we were born to do things that humans couldn't and can't do at all."

Grey listened intently, a glimmer of understanding dawning in his eyes as he absorbed Tony's words.

"We live longer, and we're scarce in population – not like anyone can be a wizard, right?" Tony chuckled, breaking the tension with a hint of humor. "And most importantly..." He paused, his hand disappearing behind him momentarily before reemerging.

"We can do magic," Tony declared, his palm alight with a sphere of light the size of a tennis ball. The glow illuminated the hut, casting dancing shadows on its walls.

Grey's gaze fixated on the sphere of light, his emerald eyes reflecting its brilliance. But just as suddenly as it appeared, the light vanished in a blinding flash, leaving the hut cloaked in darkness.

"This is just a glimpse of what I – we – can do," Tony explained, his voice tinged with a note of resignation. Placing a comforting hand on Grey's shoulder, he continued, "With time, you'll understand a lot more. Maybe we can find some elves to treat your amnesia too. But for now, we must leave."

Still reeling from the spectacle of the light, Grey blinked dumbly, struggling to find his voice. He opened his mouth, but no words came out, his mind racing with questions and uncertainty.

"Say it, whatever is on your mind," Tony encouraged, his gaze steady and reassuring.

"Umm, what's the weird sound?" Grey asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Sound?" Tony raised a brow, his expression turning thoughtful. "What sound?"

"That buzzing sound –" Grey began, but his words were cut off by a sudden shout from outside.

"Tony! Tony!!" The urgent voice of Bell echoed through the air, sending a jolt of tension through the atmosphere.

Tony's body tensed at the sound, and without hesitation, he dashed out of the hut, leaving Grey behind.

Left alone, Grey glanced around the dimly lit interior of the hut before his gaze settled on the hospital bedsheet. With a sense of instinctive urgency, he grabbed it and wrapped it around himself, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated.

Struggling to find his balance, Grey stumbled a few times, his steps faltering as he made his way out of the hut. As he emerged into the open expanse of the grassland, a sense of awe washed over him. Blades of grass swayed in the cold breeze, while fields of wheat stretched out as far as the eye could see. In the distance, majestic mountains rose against the horizon, their peaks shrouded in mist, and a river glistened in the sunlight.

Grey felt as though he had been transported to a realm beyond his wildest imagination – a place he could only describe as heavenly. Yet, amidst the breathtaking beauty, one thing remained – the persistent buzzing sound that had nagged at his senses since Tony's departure.

"Oh Merlin! How'd they know!?" exclaimed Bell, her voice tinged with panic as she and Tony scanned the sky for any signs of danger.

"I don't know," Tony responded, his hands forming spheres of fire as they braced themselves for whatever threat loomed overhead.

Bell darted into the hut, her urgency palpable as Grey managed to sidestep her frantic movements. She emerged moments later, clutching a handbag in one hand and a fur overcoat made from skunk hide in the other.

"Wear this," she instructed, tossing the coat at Grey. He quickly shed the hospital bedsheet and wrapped the warm coat around himself, wrinkling his nose at the slight stench.

As Bell stood beside Tony, her hand delved into the handbag, retrieving items with practiced efficiency. Among them was a rusty sword, improbably large for such a small bag, which she discarded with a flick of her wrist. Next came a small, seemingly fragile white ball, its appearance belying its potential power.

Placing the ball between her palms, Bell clapped her hands together, activating the device with a swift motion. Without hesitation, she began to move her hands in intricate, practiced patterns, forming shapes and symbols in the air with fluid precision.

As the shapes formed in the air, delineated by thin red lines visible only to Grey's narrowed gaze, he watched in awe as the patterns expanded and grew with each movement of Bell's hands.

"You stand behind me!" Tony's voice boomed, his brow furrowed with concentration as he intensified the flames swirling around his palms.

Grey obediently positioned himself behind Tony, his heart pounding in his chest as he braced for whatever was to come.

Suddenly, a shockwave rippled through the air, pushing Grey back slightly as he struggled to maintain his balance.

"Get ready!" Tony shouted, his voice drowned out by the tumultuous roar echoing across the landscape.

Grey's eyes widened in astonishment as he beheld the sight before him – a crack forming in the once serene sky, like the fracture of shattered glass.

With each subsequent shockwave, the crack widened until it shattered entirely, unleashing a cataclysmic transformation upon the world.

"W-wha-what is that?" Grey stammered, his words faltering as he took in the surreal scene unfolding before him.

The once blue and beautiful sky had turned a deep, ominous shade of red, casting an eerie glow over the landscape below. The air itself seemed to thrum with an otherworldly energy, sending shivers down Grey's spine.

In an instant, the vibrant green grass withered and died, revealing a barren wasteland stretching out in all directions. Even the river, once clear and pristine, now flowed with dark, murky waters.

Following the source of the roar, Grey's gaze fell upon a massive metal behemoth towering hundreds of meters into the sky. Its grotesque head housed a compartment from which a humanoid figure dangled, connected to the rest of the machine by tentacle-like wires.

Grey could only watch in horror as the world he knew crumbled before his very eyes, replaced by a nightmarish vision of destruction and despair.