Finale: Earth's Last Murder

Do you ever get the feeling that the whole world is just a tad too small for the entire human population? No? Just kidding... Yes? Me too. I'm Kaizen, but you can call me Kai. This is the story of how I ended up committing the last murder on Earth. Alarm rings. "Ugh, it's Monday again. When does this end?" I muttered under my breath as I rolled out of bed. The sun pierced through the dark blue curtain, casting a warm glow into the room's shadows. I sat up and fixed my gaze on a random spot, allowing my brain to gradually awaken. "Kai, we're about to be fashionably late for the entrance exam," my younger sister Riya's voice cut through the morning haze. "Almost done!" I exclaimed, rushing through my morning routine, skipping the exercise, of course. Swiftly brushing my teeth, I pulled on a snug black tee-shirt and combed my hair. Racing down the stairs, I grabbed my black bag from the dining chair, snatched a quick piece of bread, and hurried to the garage where the car was already running. "You're late. We're late. Get in, doofus," Riya said with a flat tone. I shrugged and hopped into the passenger seat. She accelerated, leaving the smooth tarred road behind with a speed that forced me to clutch the door handle and shut my eyes tight. Today marks the beginning of our training at the esteemed Borga Institute! In those halls, we'll go through some serious training to become Earth warriors, ready to protect our beloved planet. “Are you atwitter Kai?”, Riya’s voice cut through my stream of thoughts. "No, I'm actually looking forward to it," I replied. Riya threw me a suspicious side-eye. "But you've been preparing for months. No way you're not nervous, man," she said matter-of-factly. I shrugged, "Meh, I've been looking forward to it for the past six months. Now that D-day's here, I don't really feel amiss." “Hm, fair enough”. We arrived at the academy half an hour later, courtesy of Riya's enthusiastic driving. “Alright, we’re here. I’m gonna go off with Caramel; we both enrolled in the magic department.” Caramel, our childhood friend—well, Riya's childhood friend; we weren’t ever close enough to call it friendship—greeted me. “Hi Kai, good luck with the fighters” entry test,' she said with a smirk. “Yeah, thanks Car.” “Safe Kai”, Riya said, walking away with Caramel. Wait… Entry What?. By the time it clicked, Riya and Caramel where out of shouting distance. I sighed and turned in the opposite direction. While Riya and Car had enrolled in the magic department, I opted for the Fighter’s department. I had spent the past three years honing my physique and studying martial arts. 'Welp, let’s get this over with,' I muttered internally as I approached the expansive compound adorned with a signboard that proudly declared 'WELCOME TO FIGHT R CA P.' Yup, a few letters were missing, and there was a hole by the entrance. As I strolled into the compound, a faint smell of rusted iron lingered in the air. I found myself under the scrutiny of approximately a baker's dozen of individuals—seven boys and six girls, if my quick count serves me right. I locked eyes with each of them, starting from the left. On the extreme right, a red-haired girl flashed a brief smile my way before abruptly halting. “You're late,” a deep voice jolted me out of the eye confrontation. Turning back, I faced a man with a dark beard, a ponytail, jet-black hair, and a scar across his right eye. Standing at about 6’2", he was an inch shorter than me. “There wasn't any guide, so I missed my way... Sir?" Gasps emanated from the other young fighter-students behind me. "It's Major, Major Crossfow. Get on the stage, Youngin." He growled. The realization hit me; he was the captain of this place, our teacher. I think I was just rude to our teacher. 'Nice first impression, Kai,' I muttered to myself as I walked to a medieval-type stage. “Thornton, join him,” Major Crossfow commanded. At that moment, a boy, roughly my height but with a slightly darker complexion, walked down to the stage. A distinct scent of rusted iron clung to him, signaling his seasoned presence in this place. He wore a skin-tight black suit... uniform? I assumed that's what we were meant to wear here. In no time, he stood before me, adopting a fighting stance. “Thornton here is the pride of Fighter Camp, one of our oldest members, and the one who left that huge hole at the entrance,” Major Crossfow commented. “Teach Mr. Star here some manners”. The stadium-like compound went dead silent; you could hear a pin drop. Thornton circled around me slowly, his dark orange eyes fixated on me, resembling a predator eyeing its prey. He maintained a crouched position, heightening the tension in the air. Suddenly, he lunged at me, attempting a low tackle. 'Hm, is it just me, or is he kinda slow?' I thought as I executed a front flip over him, landing gracefully behind. Gasps echoed in the room, and I could practically feel Major Crossfow's eyes burning through the back of my head. Little did I know, all people saw was a dark blur as I seemingly teleported from my original position to his. Thornton looked at me with bewilderment, like a predator momentarily dazed. He snapped out of his momentary confusion and got back into a crouched position. “You're gonna try that again?” I taunted. He glared at me. “It seems you're full of yourself, Mr. Star,” Major Crossfow's voice broke our eye lock. “Morgan, Reed, team up with Thornton”. "But Major, I can take him on solo!" Thornton asserted. Major Crossfow's response was a stern acknowledgment, "I know, but I want him to get a thorough beating." Following this, a statuesque blonde girl, standing at an imposing 6'1", and a robust, slightly chubby boy towering at about 6'7", elegantly walked down the aisle. They joined the visibly disgruntled Thornton, forming an intimidating trio ready for action. I sighed, realizing that this challenge would be far more formidable than I had anticipated. Positioned with Thornton at their center, the girl, identified as Morgan, and the hefty guy flanked him on his left and right. The coordinated assault began simultaneously. Despite the girl's remarkable speed, I outpaced them all. She attempted a grab, perhaps aiming to restrict my movements, but a simple sidestep eluded her. It seemed manageable, I thought, until an impact resembling a boulder hurtling at truck speed collided with me. I was sent crashing into the wall, leaving a trail of dust in my wake. “Splendid!” Major Crossfow's hearty laughter echoed through the room. "Someone, call the med-team." "Wait, he's not down yet, Major," a girl's voice chimed in. I rose to my feet and strolled back to the stage. Glancing at the audience, I noticed Crossfow shooting a dirty stare at the red-haired girl, presumably the one who had spoken up. Returning my focus to the peculiar trio before me, I pondered who posed the greatest challenge and should be dealt with first. Morgan, the blondie, excelled in speed. Reed, the giant dude, might be slow, but his strength was undeniable. Thornton, on the other hand, presented a blend of both attributes. I decided to take out Morgan first. Lunging forward with unparalleled speed, too fast for anyone to react, I appeared behind her and struck the back of her neck with the underside of my hand, rendering her unconscious. Thornton and Reed had become wary, backing away slowly. I decided to go for Reed next, given his slower pace. Running forward, I leaped up to deliver a punch. Reed raised his hands to block, and taking advantage of my afterimage in front of him, I landed by his side, delivering a powerful punch to his ribs. 'Oof, I think I hit too hard,' I thought, observing Reed landing on his side, unable to stand due to the intense pain in his ribs. “You surprised me, Star,” Thornton said with a little smirk. I then leaped forward, and he did too. We became locked in an intense exchange of blows, each one powerful enough to kick up clouds of dust. Eventually, we both leaped back. Advancing for a final round, I used the same move I did for Reed, leaving my afterimage in his front. I appeared at his lower right, delivering a straight punch to the face with so much force that he crashed through the walls of the compound, leaving a larger hole beside the one Crossfow said he made. The compound was quiet for what felt like hours but was only seconds. "Get the med-team," Major Crossfow muttered, walking up to me slowly with a black bag in his right hand. Shoving the bag into my chest, he said, "You’ve passed, welcome to Fighter Camp, kid," and left for the five-story building in the middle of the compound. ‘He seems impressed, but not willing to admit it’, I thought to myself before I was bumped on the shoulder playfully. “Nice work, Star. I'm Oliver Mouse." As I turned to face the source of the playful bump, I found myself looking at Oliver Mouse, a slim black guy standing at about 6'1". His friendly demeanor and the twinkle in his eye suggested that he was genuinely impressed, even if he wasn't quick to admit it. "Thanks," I replied with a modest smile, extending my fist for a fist bump. "I'm Kaizen, but you can call me Kai. Good to meet you, Mouse." He bumped fists with me firmly, still wearing a grin. "I saw you handling things back there. Impressive moves, Kai." I couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with Mouse. It seemed like we might have a good rapport as we navigated whatever situation had brought us together. "How about the fighter's entry test?" I asked, curious about the upcoming assessment. Oliver filled me in, mentioning that although mine was a bit different due to my late arrival, the recent fight I won served as my test. In these entry tests, participants were paired against older members. While victory wasn't necessarily expected, they were graded on their performance and how long they managed to hold their ground. The surprise was palpable when I emerged victorious not just against one, but three senior fighters in one go. "Let's head in, Kai," Oliver said. "Do you know where my room is?" I asked. "Our room, you mean. We're roommates, and yes, I know where it is, man," Oliver replied. "We're just two in a room, right?" I asked. Despite my assumption, we were actually three, randomly assigned. The third person happened to be the red-haired girl who threw me a quick smile when I first entered the compound. I walked into the big building and got my key for room 48. As I reached the door—a solid, brown wooden one—I was about to unlock it when it swung open. The red-haired girl was there, smiling and ready to welcome me. "Hi, I'm Claire Anderson, you can call me Claire," the red-haired girl, Claire, said. "Kai, nice to meet you. I'm self-taught," I replied. "Oh, let's spar soon," Claire replied. "I've marked out the room, so you boys are on the left, and I'm on the right. Make sure to leave the room when I'm getting prepared, and vice versa," she added, with a commanding yet friendly tone. “Alright Claire” Mouse said. I nodded, and then took a quick survey of the room. The left side, where Oliver and I would be stationed, featured two neatly made beds with a shared nightstand in between. A subtle masculine touch was evident in the streamlined decor, while the right side, Claire's domain, exuded a more personalized and cozy ambiance. Her bed, adorned with an array of cushions, stood opposite ours, creating a clear distinction in the shared space. The room seemed to strike a harmonious balance, offering both shared and individualized corners for a comfortable coexistence. We all walked to our respective areas, with Oliver and Claire peppering me with questions and praise for how I took down three seniors. The camaraderie in the air was palpable as we settled into our designated spaces, the excitement of the upcoming sparring sessions lingering like an unspoken promise in our shared quarters. Alarm rings "What's that for?" I asked no one in particular. "Lunch," Claire and Mouse answered in unison. "Come on, I'll lead the way," she said. We all left with Claire leading the way. I couldn't help but notice a couple of stares, likely from those who witnessed my recent fight. It wasn't too far away from our room, and when I entered the cafeteria, the lively buzz of conversations and the clinking of cutlery greeted me. The spacious area was filled with long tables and benches, accommodating a mix of fighters in various stages of training and camaraderie. Motivational posters adorned the walls, showcasing past champions and fostering a sense of inspiration. Large windows allowed natural light to illuminate the space, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. The serving area featured a diverse array of food stations, each offering nutritious options tailored to meet the specific dietary needs of the fighters undergoing rigorous training. As I navigated through the bustling crowd, I couldn't help but notice the curious glances from fellow fighters, perhaps recognizing me from the recent sparring session. The cafeteria stood as more than just a dining space; it was a hub of energy, a place where stories were shared, friendships formed, and the collective spirit of the fighter camp thrived. We got our food and navigated to an empty bench at the far right of the room. En route, we passed Thornton and his entourage. One of them attempted to set a leg for me to trip over, but I simply walked over it, unfazed. We chose our spot at the periphery, away from the commotion, aiming for a peaceful meal amidst the lively cafeteria atmosphere. It wasn't long after we sat that Thornton and his group, consisting of about seven people, walked over to our table. I noticed Reed and Morgan weren't among them, suggesting they were likely random students picked by the Major. "Oi, Star, ready for a rematch?" Thornton sneered, his challenge cutting through the cafeteria's ambient noise. The cafeteria went silent, and eyes turned toward our table, curiosity and tension palpable. "Leave him alone, Blake," said Claire, breaking the silence with a firm tone. "Shut up, you failed mage," Thornton retorted, dismissing her with a sneer. I noticed Claire staring intently into her food, a mix of frustration and determination in her gaze. Feeling the need to stand up for my friends, I rose from my seat to face Thornton. No one bullies my friends. As tension crackled in the air, I squared off against Thornton, his arrogant smirk daring me to make a move. Without a word, I lunged forward, my fist connecting with his jaw with a resounding c***k. Thornton staggered backward, momentarily stunned by the unexpected blow. But before I could celebrate, his seven goons surged forward, overwhelming me with sheer numbers. Despite my best efforts, I found myself overpowered, their fists raining down on me from all sides. Desperate for assistance, I glimpsed Mouse attempting to intervene, only to be ruthlessly pushed aside by the relentless onslaught. Frustration boiled within me as I refused to succumb to their aggression. With a defiant roar, I summoned every ounce of strength, my voice echoing through the chaos. A sudden surge of energy coursed through me, unleashing a powerful shockwave that sent Thornton and his goons flying backward, along with several chairs caught in the tumult. In the aftermath of the chaotic scene, Claire and Mouse, along with the rest of the cafeteria, stared at me in astonishment. The question echoed in my mind, "Where did that come from... am I... a magic fighter?" The realization settled in, leaving a lingering sense of wonder. The cafeteria, once hushed in disbelief, slowly resumed its usual commotion, but my newfound ability had set me apart, leaving questions and speculation in its wake. As I grappled with this unexpected revelation, the weight of potential and uncertainty hung in the air.