A Cynic's Odyssey

A second passed, then another then another and Mathew's eye followed the beast's descent into the chasm. The voidborn's wails could be heard faintly as time passed until an eerie silence hung in the air as Mathew strained to hear the faintest sound of impact.

Time stretched on but no noise arose from the depths, leaving the unsettling realization of how impossibly deep the chasm he had opened up truly was.

Finally, after what felt like day, Mathew heard a loud thud echo from the depths of the casm folowed by a whimper, then finally once more silence.

'Dam that's deep!' he thought to himself.

The young cynic shook off the unease and adjusted his grip then began pulling himself up. The young man wasn't what one would call fit, after all, he had lived his entire life, or at least what he could remember of it in the higher districts.

His muscles burned as he strained his body, he looked down and stared into the dark chasm and was tempted to just let go, but then the image of his mother's head swinging in the hands of that monster surfaced and he was invigorated with a renewed determination.

The thought wasn't a pleasant one but it was motivation enough. Mathew pulled himself up to stable ground and spread himself to catch his breath when suddenly the codex spoke.

[You have slain a voidborn- Feral beast ]

As Mathew lay sprawled on the ground, a sly smirk tugged at his lips and he muttered to himself.

"I did it. I killed an actual viodborn."

Well, that wasn't accurate, it was more in the vein of the caused the beast's death instead of actually killing it. After all, Mathew didn't let a hand on the beast and just stomped his foot onto a few loose bricks. But he didn't really care about the specifics, all he cared about were the results.

"Guess that makes me tougher than I thought,"

Though his muscles protested fervently against his every movement, Mathew found the strength of will and rolled onto his side, planted his hands firmly against the cold and uneven cobblestone floor, and pushed himself up.

He staggered but soon steadied himself and brushed off the dirt and sweat off his palms. Taking one last look back at the chasm a shiver ran down his spine. But just then the figure of the earlier beauty of a woman emerged from behind him and walked up to his side and gazed into the chasm.

Completely forgetting about his exhaustion and freezing for a few moments the sudden appearance of the beautiful woman's silhouette made him feel somewhat awkward, out of place, and bereft of how to react. He shifted away slightly while glancing at her from the corner of his eye then stayed like that for a few tense seconds till the woman turned her head and met his eyes.

After getting a good look, Mathew could now say without a doubt that this was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and that was saying something as in his world, he had seen men and women alike so beautiful that one would think they were plucked straight out of a fantasy story.

The only caveat was that those people were either celebrity that lived in lower districts, extremely wealthy people or even metahumans, which made interacting with them quite impossible for someone like him who had lived in the higher districts all his life.

Ah, his mother. The scene of his mothers lifeless corps that was forever burned into his memories played on repeat like a broken record in his mind. As it did, an unfamiliar feeling welled up inside him. What was it? Racking his brain he struggled to understand what this emotion was. Was it the love he felt for his mother? No this was something more intense. Then was it the pain of watching her death? There was some of that, but still, this felt more intense.

Recollecting the emotionless expression of the man, no, the bastard who had the audacity to murder his mother, heartbeat spiked and he had the unrestrained and unfiltered desire to kill, then like something snapping in place the answer clicked in his mind.

Ah! So that was what it was. The emotions he was feeling weren't something fleeting like love or pain. It was something more, substantial. An insatiable emotion that no matter how much one tries to satisfy, it will never be enough.

It was rage.

The veins on his temple bulged and nearly burst as his heart raced, threatening to follow suit. Just as he was on the verge of an outburst something within him snapped, he calmed his nerves, slowed his heartbeat and had a single thought left in his mind.

'I'm going to kill that icy bastard.'

Living a life while simply struggling to get to the next day Mathew was basically nothing but a passenger in all things he did. He never really had a goal or purpose, and never bothered to find one. But for the first time in his eighteen years of life, even if is was a twisted one driven by rage, he had something to strive towards.

But luckily for the young cynic, fate had dealt him a card that he himself couldn't have imagined ever getting. Well, it was less of an opportunity and more of a death sentence if one really sat down and thought about it. He had been chosen be the codex to become a herald, and to be chosen means he has been granted the opportunity to gain power he never have otherwise ha the opportunity to obtain.

He was given an amazing opportunity to become stronger and escape the clutches of a life of poverty, powerlessness and suffering. But in all honesty his situation overall was very bad. From what Mathew had heard, which wasn't more than rumors, speculation, pointless gossip and straight up lies, a person's first trial wasn't supposed to be anything too difficult. Usually, herald candidates would find themselves in a difficult but fairly manageable situation, based on what it thought them capable of. You could become a member of a hunting party, or a soldier in an army in a castle with all the necessary tools and weapons.

But he was different.

Starting out as what looked to be a uselessly weak solder with nothing but leather armor in some sort of man made cave or underground structure based on the rocks he saw lining the walls of the chasm. This was far from being the fairly manageable situation he had heard about. If anything, he had been handicapped and that wasn't exactly fair no was it?

It couldn't have been all bad, if the trial had given him such a difficult trial it would have given him just as amazing of a trait.

A singular concentration of ones affinities and innate nature which make up their specialization, granting heralds unique and sometimes fantastical powers.

He focused and though about the cringy words that characters in webtoons would recite.

'Status window, Status, profile'

but nothing worked.

'How do I do this?"

In the next moment, all he did was he focus and suddenly, a set of shimmering runes appeared before him.