The Boy
It was a cold night, but it did not bother, as the day would just be as dark and cold. A cloaked man was crossing the road, that no living soul had passed for years. He could remember how lively the people busily sped across this very road. It had been 5 years since the first appearance of the shroud.
It was all just an ordinary day. People would rush to work, kids would hop to school merrily, the traffic would run like flowing water. Then the shroud came. It was like God had ceased to hold his anger, and purged this world with a pitch black shroud. It started as a small cloud, hung low in the heavens. As more and more people gazed at its sudden emergement, it expanded and soon enveloped the sky. The sun had conceded, and only a dim light was permitted to pass the thick layer of grey. It did not take long for the shroud to spread across Japan, and across Asia, and the globe. Men and women gasped in amazement. Not long after that a repulsive smell lingered in the air. People twisted their faces as they sniffed the strange mist. And it all started. The people shivered, the rushing men stuttered, the kids shook, and collapsed on the ground. One after another, they fell on the ground. A short moment passed, it seemed that none was standing on the ground, instead lifeless puppets with their strings cut lay left and right. But among them was a man, young and energetic. He stood in wilderness, in fear and dread. But it was true that he was standing, despite the mist still being present. He walked around the deathly silence. A living soul was a snowball in hell. It was like hell.
A breeze blew in the emptiness, as the man snapped back to reality. The wind revealed the man's face that was under the cloak. He was old, his silver hair and beard covering most of his face. He looked like what a kung fu master would look like. He was holding a staff in one hand, but he did not look like he needed it for walking. He walked into an abandoned supermarket. It used to be a store, but now a looting point. After the majority of the population was taken by the mist, governments lost control, survivors liked the man would go insane. The first time the government tried to help, was when it changed its name to the Government, and declared to no longer be a government, but a guild. They connected to the broadcast and gathered survivors. Survivors all were in ecstasy, as they see other living souls. But they only found themselves in a dark building, and they were never seen again. Since then, no one could trust the Government. As much as no one should trust anyone. People fought for resources, reverting life back to its primal stage. The raiding and stealing lasted for a few months, suddenly the first man who was born of singularity was found. Then more and more of them were found. They were mutants, or dubbed "undefiled". Those who were not only spared by God in the mist, but stepped on the first stepping stone of human evolution. They wielded powers, superpowers, that could be anything. But humans err, as they used their gifts to fight, to kill, and to repress.
The man unzipped the luggage he had been dragging. He raised an arm to shovel food into it. He walked between shelves, gathering everything. Flicker. Flicker. "Zeep." The man looked around. Flicker. A light was shimmering on the floor. He slowly approached the figure, seeing a piece of matted metal. It was no ordinary machinery, it had arms and legs that had metal twisted with lightings into limbs. The metal torso that connected them strangely resembled human muscles. The plates moved up and down, revealing the light glowing under it. It was breathing. The man carefully kneeled beside it to examine this strange living. He was wearing pants, topped with a ripped grey sweater. His face was pale, so pale that it was almost white, like his hair. He looked like he was around 17. But the man thought it was strange, for a cyborg like boy to just lie around in a supermarket. The weird part was not that he was at a market, but he had a whole prosthetic body. A creation or a modification like this could only be done by the Government. Among all the guilds, the Government held the most secrets and technology. They never came out for food, instead they would come out to patrol streets and alleys. They wanted no food, but survivors. They would dress in metal suits and drive in aircrafts, which people had no idea how they got access to. They were also seen picking up and capturing living kids, and bring them away. Was this boy another victim of the Government? The man froze. Normally if he saw a survivor, he would always be willing to help. But no one should trust the Government. Yet his heart soften, as he carried the boy and brought him along.
He walked back the path he came and stopped by a lamppost. He raised his free hand and drew in the air. Abruptly, a translucent barrier appeared right in front of him, and he walked straight into it, literally. He passed the barrier and the sky was suddenly bright. The deathly eeriness had ceased to exist when he walked past a long path teemed with trees and bird calls. A wooden sign stood before him, written "Welcome to the Oasis". The place was like a utopia, a large bird cage that was separated from humanity, one that could make you forget what had happened to the outside world. "Father is back! Guys!" It was a girl, she gasped and excitedly screamed. She had pink hair that was cut into a bob, her eyes shimmering with purple. She wore a crest or a band on her forehead that made her look somewhat like a member of royalty. A group of people, mostly children came to greet this "Father" figure.
"All done." A young man said confidently after locking the last few screws onto a robotic arm. They were fixing the boy's prosthetic arm, which was battered. Father gazed at the boy silently. "Something bad must have happened to him. Only his nice face was kept human."
"You should not bring him here. You never know what the government was up to." The young man that had been working on the boy's arm said. He was a fine looking man, in his 20s. He looked like a gentle big brother. One thing that was not gentle about him was his stout build, and two fluffs of hair that stood on his head like demon horns. Next to him was another boy, much younger, really energetic one.
"I already know we will be good friends." He said, looking at the boy.
"We don't even know if he will wake up." The girl said quietly.
"You are always harsh, Excalibur."
Excalibur was the girl's name. Kids in that era were named after their mutations, or powers, which developed when they were born. Excalibur must have a power that was a sword or something.
"I mean, he look dead to me." Just after that, the boy opened his eyes. The moment he did, an intensity rushed towards all souls in the room. He sat up straight and looked around, as if evaluating the environment. He then left his bed and went to a wall. He gently caressed the wall, and suddenly there was a charging sound that came from his hand. It was the sound a robot would make before firing a laser canon. The boy lifted his arm, and the metal plates on it retracted, the light below it glow and changed from white to red. Engines started growing from his shoulders. They all stared with amazement. The boy waited for his arm to charge, and suddenly his face changed and twisted, delivering a swift punch that connected with the wall. There was a large bang. The children hid behind Father. As they opened their eyes, only to see this bizarre scene. "Alas..." The wall vapourized, and the roof was badly shattered. The boy turned to stare back. And the children did the same.