• Zeus. The city of ten million volts. In a world shattered by nuclear war and disease, it stood firm and hopeful for the future. Or rather that’s what its creator’s intentions were. But now, five hundred years after its creation, it was nothing but a wretched pile of scum and villainy. The only things standing in their original glory were the upper levels of the city. High in the sky, the people had not a care in the world. Besides the skyscrapers, the only thing still standing was the protective dome, saving those inside from the radiation just a few miles away in the wastelands that seemed to go on forever. There were once many cities like Zeus scattered across the globe, but overtime their shields had either been compromised by radiation or destroyed. Humanity was on its last legs. Down in the cesspool of this city is where our story begins.
    The car drove briskly past the tattered stall of a merchant. A man in the back suit glanced casually through the tinted windows at the shopkeeper, who was surrounded by a group of thugs, extorting him for money. The man laughed to himself at this foolishness as he continued staring on. He wore dark gasses and a black suit concealing the bulletproof vest he constantly wore for protection. Just like the clothes he wore, his car’s sleek exterior was jet black. This man, in his older years, had a purpose for his trip to the slums, not just for a leisurely drive. He turned away from his window and towards his driver.
    “Drop me off here and circle around for a bit. Pick me up in five minutes.” he said gruffly with an Italian accent.
    The driver silently nodded, slowing to a halt. The older man put on a hat to cover his hair, which was black, with hints of silver. He walked toward an alleyway next to a neon sign. Broken and half shattered it read, “HOLE IN THE WALL”. The establishment had been destroyed in a looting raid a few years earlier, and now was abandoned.
    A rat streaked underneath his legs, into the shadows. A loud squeaking noise echoed through out the alleyway before it was silenced permanently by a sickening “CRUNCH!” The man looked towards the sound and saw a lurking figure. A shape stepped out of the shadows. Less of a man and more of a beast he had small, beady eyes and a rat-like nose. Half of the rat was in his hand. The rest was being chewed in his mouth, fresh blood dripping from his lips.
    “Sorry about that Giovanni,” the man said with a greedy gleam in his eyes. “I had to finish my lunch.”
    “Well finish it fast Grig,” Giovanni said impatiently “I have to be off soon. Do you have the package?”
    “Got it right here!” Grig said, pulling the box out of his trench coat pocket. “This was hard to get, so the cash at least has to be one-hundred thou….” Grig looked up from the box to see a pistol pointed at his head.
    “Too pricey,” Giovanni interrupted pulling the trigger. “This is by far cheaper.”
    He collected the box and walked away. At last, his plan was unfolding…….

    “PLACE YOUR BETS!” The mechanical voice boomed across the arena. The two challengers faced each other in the pseudo-open air arena. In reality they were underground, deep in the slums, far from light. The crowd cheered on the combatants as they rushed towards each other. One was a large, burly man, at least seven feet tall. It was clear that he had used genetic splicing to increase his strength. His kind were called hybrids, half animal, half human. He stood there, with two horns growing out of his head, an unforeseen side effect. He held a massive hammer in each hand. Dwarfing his opponent in size, he lumbered there laughing at his pipsqueak challenger.
    Standing there, roughly five feet tall, Kyne stood silent, judging his opponent. Kyne wore a red jacket and white gloves with a steel scabbard hanging on his waist. His blonde hair shone in the false sunlight created by the dome.
    “3…2…1…MATCH BEGIN!!!” The voice boomed again.
    The Hybrid rushed towards Kyne screaming a battle cry. The crowd cheered him on, positive that this was going to be an easy victory for him, and easy money in their pocketbooks. Kyne stood there calmly and drew his sword, a long beautiful, yet smart blade with a red gem imbedded in the hilt. Ancient writing was engraved on its face.
    Kyne angled the sword at the golden sun, like a mirror, reflecting the light into the eyes of the beast-man, temporarily blinding him. His opponent blinked, only for a split second. That instant was enough though. Kyne leapt into the air, high above his furious adversary. His foe looked up, just a hair too late. SLASH! The sword came down slicing off the man’s arm. As the steel slid through the shoulder-blade like a knife through half-melted butter, the hybrid’s blood pressure released. His burgundy blood gushed onto the arena like a giant red paintbrush had brushed against the gruesome battlefield. The crowd was in a frenzy, getting up and cheering in their seats at this appalling spectacle.
    “AGGH! You Punk!” The Hybrid said swinging his other arm towards Kyne with as much power as he could muster. Kyne lifted up his other arm nonchalantly as the hybrid’s fist slammed into it. To the surprise of everyone in the arena, including the hybrid, Kyne grabbed the fist. The crowd was shocked at the sight of the behemoth of the hybrid, conquered by the underdog pipsqueak.
    Kyne twisted the hybrid’s hand behind his back while holding the sword below his neck.
    “Listen,” Kyne pleaded. “I don’t want to have to kill you. Surrender now or I will have no choice.”
    The Hybrid gulped loudly while nodding in agreement. Kyne released the stump of the man, and he instantly collapsed to the ground. The crowd was deathly silent. One small clap sounded in the audience, and then another, and a third. Soon the entire arena erupted in cheers, the masses roaring their approval. But while everyone was busy ether cashing in their winnings, or watching them ship off the handicapped Hybrid, no one noticed Kyne slipping away into the shadows to the dressing room.
    Kyne laid down on one of the benches, adrenaline pumping through him, trying to relax. He lifted up his left hand which he had used to block the gargantuan punch. Slipping off the slightly tattered white glove to reveal his mechanical arm, he noticed a large dent.
    “Oh great,” he griped. “I guess I have to get this repaired too!”
    Kyne closed his eyes, remembering the day he had gotten the injury that had cost him so much: his arm, his pride, his family…
    “You were foolish out there Kyne.” A voice jettisoned him out of his thoughts.
    Kyne glanced up to see a man in an identical red coat staring down at him. He looked old enough to be Kyne’s father. He wore a black bandanna to hold his long black hair out of his eyes. A large two handed sword swayed on his back.
    “A-Aron! What are you doing here?” Kyne said while jumping up from surprise.
    “You shouldn’t have wasted a second strike at a thug like that. You should have killed the Hybrid when you had the chance.” Aron scornfully said
    “Oh please!” Kyne laughed. “You’re just disappointed because that guy didn’t smash me with his hammer.”
    “Stop joking around!” Aron shouted. “That hybrid was my target! He is deep within the mob ring of the lower levels! Now his arm’s lobbed off and I have to go find him again!”
    “Well,” Kyne said, taking a bite out of a Granny Smith Apple, “he’s probably in the infirmary, at least for another hour….”
    “Oh? And you expect me to just waltz on in there and say to the guard: ‘Excuse me sir, I’ve been ordered by the Nights of the Table to execute your friend in there. Do you mind letting me through?’”
    “Well you are a 1st class Knight!” Kyne responded mockingly. “I’m only a measly 2nd! Maybe if you can get me that promotion, I could help you out…”
    “Ha, ha, Kyne, you’re one in a million! Your father would be so proud if he were here. You sound just like him.” Aron said while giving Kyne a noogie.
    Kyne, frustrated, threw Aron’s hand off his head. “Well he’s not here! And I am nothing like that coward! Don’t you have a target to kill or something?”

    “Relax! I was only pointing something out. No need to get hostile! Well I guess you’re right, I better be on my way!” Aron waved goodbye. “By the way, the table wanted to see you! Good luck!”
    “What do you mean good lu-“Kyne turned around to interrogate Aron more, but he was no where to be found. Kyne sighed.
    “I Guess I have to go there to find out.” Kyne said staring down at the sword insignia inscribed on his ring.
    Kyne took a quick shower before exiting the locker room. By now, the next fight was underway. The onlookers were so hypnotically entranced in this skirmish; they didn’t even notice their previous champion leaving the stadium.
    After walking through the winding labyrinth of the city of Zeus, Kyne ducked into a small book store. He nonchalantly walked to the back of the store, taking care that no one saw him. Once in the far back, concealed by rows and rows of books Kyne pulled The Legend of King Arthur off the shelf. Behind the book there was a small indent, roughly the size of his ring. He placed his ring flush against this marking. The bookshelf jumped to life, swiveling him behind the wall. Kyne briskly stepped off the rotating platform before it returned to its resting position, leaving him inside of a tiny room.
    There was noting special about this small area; it had four walls and a hanging light from the ceiling. There was one oddity in this abode though. An old fashioned telephone booth, bright red, was stationed in the exact middle right under the light.
    Kyne walked into the booth and closed the door. He faced the phone and rapidly entered in a number. As soon as he did, he turned around and the phone booth plummeted towards the earth’s core. Eventually the booth reached the end of its long journey. Kyne stepped out of the booth.
    “Well Kyne, welcome home.” Kyne said to himself, staring at the Golden City before him. Deep underground, this metropolis survived for thousands of years, known to an exclusive few ordered with the task of protecting the inhabitants above. This city was the “Castle of Camelot.”
    Kyne walked through a training session, looking at the small children, training in aspiration of becoming a first class knight. These early levels of education were done similar to a standard militia, with a yelling drill sergeant and matching grey uniforms.
    Kyne smiled as he watched the children, no older than seven, scared stiff of their drill sergeant.
    “Listen up maggots!” the officer barked. “It’s time for a test!”
    The children looked straight ahead, knowing only the strictest obedience for their superiors.
    The instructor bent down towards the first child.
    “When you are accepted as the Paige of a knight, what do you receive?” The child hesitated. “ANSWER ME BOY!”
    “You are given a one of a kind singlet ring, crafted by the knight who has chosen you. SIR!” The boy shouted in response.
    The drillmaster walked towards the next child. “What is the purpose of the ring?”
    The girl quietly responded staring down at her toes; “It signifies the bond between teacher and student. It gives the wearer the ability to alter the form of objects. Sadly, they must stay the same mass and chemical makeup….”
    The drillmaster looked furious. “A perfect answer, but, you have improper posture! Twelve laps! All of you!”
    “YES SIR!” The children shouted in unison.
    Kyne walked over to the instructor quietly clapping. “Still as grouchy as ever I see, Conti!”
    Conti glared at Kyne, in a mock abhorrence. “Mr. Ashblood! Do you want to go out there and help them with their running?”
    Kyne recoiled, “Uhh, actually I have a summons from the High Council! Maybe some other time though!”
    “Well then, get off my training ground!! You are being a distraction to my unit, AND you’re tracking dirt on my floor! Get out of here you slacker!” Kyne was only too happy to oblige, rushing off to his meeting.
    On his way to the capitol, Kyne passed the “Department of Energy and eXtremes” laboratory (D.E.X. Labs).This laboratory’s purpose was to mix Camelot’s ancient magic with new technology. The result was objects like the signet rings that made life easier for Camelot’s inhabitants. Looking through the window into D.E.X. labs, Kyne saw his good friend Sara testing an experimental levitation glove. She was lifting a bowling ball above a china set from ten feet away. She had brown hair and wore dark rimmed glasses and also wore the standard DEX lab jacket.
    Kyne knocked on the glass to capture her attention, and that he did. For as soon as Sara turned her head to greet him, the bowling ball came crashing to the floor.
    “Uhh, maybe now isn’t the best time.” Kyne decided while glancing at Sara’s furious face.
    Just as Kyne started to bolt away, Sara used the device to grab him by the throat and drag him into the building.
    “Gah! Not the throat!” Kyne choked out.
    “Get back here fool!” Sara scowled, “You’re helping me clean this up!”
    Twelve broken dishes, and twelve thousand apologize later, Kyne was finally done cleaning his mess up and was on his way to the Knight’s hall, the home of the Knight’s of the Round Table. Kyne walked into the room of The Table, it surrounded by the leading generals and highest officials of the organization known as the Knights of Camelot. Kyne held these men and women in the highest regard, not only for their higher rank, but for their superior fighting ability, and knowledge.
    “Kyne! I’m glad to see you could make it!” Said a familiar voice next to Kyne.
    “Aron! What are you doing here?” Kyne quietly said to his former master.
    “Do you really think I’d miss your indoctrination?” Aron laughed back at him.
    “W-what? Indoctrination?” Kyne perplexedly responded.
    “That’s right,” a knight at the table interrupted. “We had one of our men watch your last fight with the hybrid and he has recommended you as a 1st rank Knight!”
    “This is amazing!” Kane responded, his dream becoming a reality. “Who did you send to watch me?”
    Aron nodded slightly, smiling while giving a mock salute. “Who do you think it was kiddo?”
    Kyne turned to Aron laughing, and gave him a noogie on the head. “Aron! I knew I could count on you! Thank you so much!”
    “There is one matter we have to address though,” the other knight interrupted. “Sir Ashblood, you must pick a Paige. We have a class graduating today, they are going to have there exhibition duel today! You are welcome to come and watch! Follow me.”
    And with that, they walked towards the viewing area……….
    Marek Leonidus was nervous. Today was his final day. To him, it was his final day to prove his worth. It was his final chance, to become a knight. After eleven years of training, there was no going back. It was graduation day. And if he wasn’t chosen by a knight to train under, he would be expelled from the order, forced to live a life of a citizen. In his current condition, he knew he was hopeless. Marek had broken his right arm a few days ago in a training accident.
    Marek knew he stood no chance in the fight. He sat there, in the waiting room fiddling around with a ring. He had no recollection of who gave it too him, only that it arrived in a mysterious package one day. It had the words my lucky charm inscribed on the inside of the band He slipped it into his pocket, as an instructor walked in.
    “All right Marek!” The man said, “Your fight is about to begin! Good luck! You have a lot of knights watching this so you better impress one of them!”
    “Ok….” Marek said stumbling to get up with his one hand.
    When Marek stepped onto the small arena, everything was a blur. He heard the announcing of his name and of his opponent, the bell ringing to start, and his foe running towards him. As a sign of luck, he slipped the ring onto the finger of his broken hand. Their blunted blades met in a clash, snapping him out of his dream world. This was his final chance at redemption. He leaped back, after struggling against the blow for a period of time. This time he would be ready.
    Again, the combatants met, this time with a flurry of blows. Marek was countering to the best of his ability, but his broken arm was serving as a handicap, causing his opponent to gain ground. Then out of an unexpected attack, Marek collapsed to the ground, his sword clattering to the floor, a few feet away. His opponent took advantage of the opportunity, lunging his sword towards the point receptor located on Marek’s chest. Marek knew if he was hit, his dreams were all over. He could never become a knight.
    Time slowed to a halt. The world turned grey around him. Marek looked around, the world in a freeze frame. The ring on his finger began to sear with pain, and two words echoed in his frozen world:
    “Use Me”
    All of a sudden, the world sped back up, and the color returned to life, his opponent’s sword, lunged towards Marek. To his surprise and the surprise of the watchers, Marek’s arm broke free of his cast, reached out, and grabbed the sword. Now in extreme pain, Marek’s arm felt like it was on fire! He looked down in amazement to see, his hand melting through the sword!
    “Wha-What? What’s going on?” Marek said to himself.
    “Relax. I’m in control. I will finish this fight for you.”
    All of a sudden, a strange feeling came over Marek. His eyes gleamed a light blue and he felt like a human puppet. His broken hand ignited into flames, but he surprisingly did not feel the slightest pain. He looked towards his other arm which was solidifying into ice.
    “Don’t worry” The voice whispered again.
    His ice arm reached out and shot out a dart that looked as if it was made of pure crystal. This hit his opponent square on the shield, which instantly began to freeze. After it was completely covered by the ice, it shattered into a thousand pieces. The boy cowered on the ground, as the form that was known as Marek approached him, his hand of ice reaching out towards him. His hand open wide, a staff of pure hoarfrost formed from thin air. The spirit possessing Marek then gently tapped the end of the staff onto his opponent’s chest, ending the match.
    As soon as this deed was done, Marek’s power grew without control, the blaze consuming his entire body. The peace of the Ice was gone; all that was left was the fury of fire, the primal urge to slay his opponent. Marek’s fingers became claws, and horns raged from his head, as he screamed a blood curdling battle cry.
    Faster than he could react, Kyne and Aron tackled Marek, trying to subdue him. Eventually Kyne was able to extinguish the fire by knocking Marek unconscious with the butt of his sword.
    “Well Kyne,” Aron stated, while trying to catch his breath. “It looks like you found your student.”
    “Yeah… If I don’t there’s a good chance he could be banished for even possessing that cursed ring” Kyne said looking down at this mysterious boy, passed out in his arms. “Well kid, welcome to the Knights of Camelot.”
    “I just have one question.” Aron said confused.
    “What’s that?” Kyne responded
    “There’s no way the boy was able to steal this himself, or even know of its existence. Who gave it to him?” Aron said, sliding it off Marek’s finger and into the light to inspect it.”
    “We don’t know” The knight from the Table interrupted, pointing a sword towards them “But we know someone has a lot of explaining to do. Come with me, bring the boy too.”