The Divided Guardian [Cursed Anti-Hero, Progression, Dark Fantasy]

The cliff stretched out before them like the edge of the world, gray storm clouds rolling across the churning ocean below. Lightning flickered in the distance, painting brief silver streaks across the dark water. Sol squinted into the wind, one hand shielding his eyes as he scanned the beach far below.

"Can't make them out from up here," Sol muttered, stepping back from the edge. "Even if we could spot them, they'd never see us waving around like idiots."

Neiva tapped her finger against her lips, that familiar spark lighting up her green eyes. "Wait! I've got it!" She dug into her pocket, pulling out her phone with the little Red figurine dangling from its chain. Cupping it in both hands like a precious artifact, she called out, "Hey Red! We're stuck up here on the cliff—help us get down!"

Sol raised an eyebrow, watching her shake the tiny figure. "You seriously think that thing can carry both of us? It's the size of a keychain."

"What do you mean—" Neiva started, but crimson smoke suddenly erupted from the figurine like a miniature volcano. Sol's jaw dropped as the smoke swirled around them, solidifying into massive wings sprouting from their backs.

"Wait, wait, wait, wai—" Neiva yelped as crimson energy jets ignited, launching them both off the cliff face.

They plummeted through the air, the pocket Red trailing behind them like a tiny comet. The wind tore at their clothes and hair until the wings flared wide, energy bursting from the tips to slow their descent. They hit the sand with a thud, the wings dissolving into sparkling particles as the pocket Red bonked Neiva on the head.

She blew red strands from her face, glaring at the figurine. "Real smooth landing there, genius."

Sol smoothed down his silver hair, brushing sand from his jacket. "Hey, at least the rain stopped. Small victories." He looked around the empty beach. "So where are our power-testing maniacs?"

"There." Neiva pointed toward the ocean where three figures were flying in formation, growing larger as they approached.

The trio touched down in a spray of sand, Angelo's orange aura fading as his feet hit solid ground. Sol raised an arm to block the flying grit.

"So?" Sol grinned, dusting off his sleeve. "How'd the magical science experiment go?"

The three exchanged glances—Blue adjusting his posture, Red bouncing on his heels, Angelo crossing his arms. Finally, Angelo stepped forward.

"We cracked it," he said simply. "Trinergy works."

A chill ran down Sol's spine, and beside him, Neiva's eyes went wide. "Are you serious right now?" she breathed.

Sol's grin turned predatory. "Impressive. And the power level? Scale of one to 'holy shit'?"

Angelo looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "We haven't exactly... stress-tested it yet."

"Well the fuck are we standing around for?" Red cackled, pointing at the cliff face like he was declaring war on it. "Trinergy needs a proper debut, and look at that rock wall, it's practically begging for it!"

Blue straightened his imaginary tie. "While I find my colleague's enthusiasm rather crude, his fundamental proposition has merit. Shall we proceed with the demonstration, gentlemen?"

They lined up like soldiers, extending their right arms toward the towering cliff. Angelo glanced back at Sol and Neiva. "You might want to back up. This could get messy."

Sol and Neiva retreated several yards, anticipation crackling between them. Angelo's voice dropped to that dangerous quiet. "This better work, or we're all dead when the real fight comes."

Energy began gathering between their palms, three different colors swirling together like liquid light. Angelo rotated his counter to Red and Blue's rhythm until silver energy emerged, shot through with veins of orange, red, and blue that pulsed like a living heartbeat.

"It's gorgeous," Neiva whispered, mesmerized by the swirling sphere.

Sol folded his arms, analytical even in the face of beauty. "Pretty doesn't win fights. Let's see what it can actually do."

"Time for the fireworks!" Red whooped.

"Ready to fire," Blue announced with scientific precision.

Angelo's eyes blazed. "Everyone ready? TRINERGY BOMB!"

They launched the sphere in perfect unison. The kickback hit like a truck, sand exploding away from them in all directions. The energy bullet screamed through the air before slamming into the cliff face.

The explosion was everything—light, sound, raw power that made the earth shake beneath their feet. When the dust settled, a crater the size of a house gaped in the cliff face, perfectly carved as if by some impossible drill.

"Sweet mother of..." Sol stared at the destruction, genuine awe cracking his composed facade.

Red let out a low whistle. "Now that's what I call a proper fucking boom."

Angelo said nothing, just stared at his palm like it held secrets he was still learning to read.

Sol stepped closer, respect clear in his voice. "Not bad at all. That wasn't even full power, was it?"

Angelo shook his head. "Maybe halfway. If that."

"This changes everything!" Neiva bounced forward, excitement radiating from every inch of her. "You can actually take on the big boss now, right?"

Angelo hesitated, something heavy settling in his expression. "In theory."

"In theory?" Neiva's face fell. "What's wrong? What aren't you telling me?"

Sol sighed, hands sliding into his pockets. "It's clunky, isn't it? The whole process."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Angelo nodded grimly.

"I don't get it," Neiva said, frustration creeping into her voice. "What's the problem?"

Sol's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by cold tactical analysis. "Think about it like a video game. Sure, they just unlocked the ultimate attack, but it's got a long casting time and requires perfect positioning. In a real fight? That's a death sentence."

"Solomon's assessment is regrettably accurate," Blue confirmed with scholarly disappointment. "The coordination requirements and preparation time create significant tactical vulnerabilities."

Red just shrugged, still grinning at the crater. "So we get faster at it. Practice makes perfect, right?"

Neiva looked between them, hope and worry warring in her expression. "Can you actually do that? Get faster?"

Angelo stared at the destruction they'd caused, his jaw set with determination. "We have to."

Josef kicked at a loose stone, watching it skitter across the empty street. Hours of asking around town had gotten him absolutely nowhere—nobody knew a damn thing about where Megan Olive lived. He rubbed his weathered temples, feeling the weight of frustration settling in his chest like lead.

"Think, you old fool, think!" he muttered to himself, pacing in aimless circles. "Who would know her better than anyone else?"

His boots scraped against the cobblestones as he wandered without direction, mind churning through possibilities. Then he stopped dead in his tracks, snapping his fingers.

"The equipment manager!" His face scrunched up like he'd tasted something sour. "That bloody Zhypherian name... Lee-something? Leesons?" He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Gosh, I hate going to that place. Can never get his name right."

But this was too important to let embarrassment stop him. Josef squared his shoulders and marched toward the edge of town, determination replacing his earlier wandering.

The warehouse loomed ahead like a sleeping giant, all concrete and steel overlooking the forest below. Shipping crates sat stacked beside the entrance like building blocks. Josef paused at the doorway, steeling himself for another awkward conversation, then pushed inside.

The main hall stretched before him, fluorescent lights humming overhead as he made his way to the office. There sat the equipment manager, face glued to his computer screen like it held the secrets of the universe.

Josef cleared his throat loud enough to wake the dead.

"Saw you coming from a mile away," the man said without looking up, his voice flat as day-old soda.

"Right then..." Josef shifted his weight. "I need your help, err... Leeson?"

A heavy sigh escaped the younger man as he finally looked up, adjusting his glasses. "Lee Sung. It's really not rocket science, yet somehow you butcher it every single time."

"Well excuse me for not being fluent in yer mother's culture!" Josef shot back, frustration bubbling over. "Not my bloody fault she's Zhypherian!"

"You're completely missing the point." Lee Sung's irritation was sharper than broken glass. "What do you want, Josef? I've got a new shipment to catalog and it's not going to organize itself."

Josef glanced around the office like a man planning a heist, trying and failing to look casual. "You might find this a bit strange, but..." He braced himself like he was about to jump off a cliff. "You know Megan Olive, right?"

Lee Sung blinked behind his glasses, clearly caught off guard. "I... yes, unfortunately I deal with her regularly." He paused, then added quickly, "Don't tell her I said that. Why are you asking?"

"Personal matters," Josef said, his voice nervous as a cat in a dog pound. "Need to speak with her urgently."

Lee Sung studied him with the intensity of a detective examining evidence. "If you're looking for a raise, you should know she's tougher to crack than a walnut."

Neither man noticed the two Cliffhangers in the hallway, their bodies glowing as they hauled crates back and forth like human forklifts.

"You catching this?" one whispered to his partner, nodding toward the office. "Old timer's asking about Megan."

"So what?" The other Cliffhanger adjusted his grip on the crate. "People ask about lots of folks."

The first guy's eyes lit up like New Light Festival's decorations. "Here's the thing—I was helping Veronica pack stuff for that woman just this morning."

"Pack stuff? Why the hell would—" His partner's confusion was written all over his face.

"Someone's got a target painted on her back," the first Cliffhanger explained, his grin spreading like spilled paint. "Boss moved her somewhere safe."

"So this miner's on a wild goose chase then."

The grin turned predatory. "Forget that—think about it. Someone's hunting her, and now this guy shows up asking questions? What are the odds?"

Understanding dawned in his partner's eyes. "The timing's too perfect. Should we arrest him?"

The first Cliffhanger set his crate down on top of his partner's stack. "Nah, the boss doesn't like us grabbing people without proof. You keep the old man busy. I'm running straight to Veronica." He was already moving, energy crackling around his legs. "I'll call with orders."

"Got it." His partner hefted both crates and marched into the office.

"Well, well, well." The Cliffhanger's voice cut through the air like a blade. "What do we have here?"

Josef spun around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. "Wha-what?! Nothing! Absolutely nothing!"

"Rare seeing your type outside the mines," the gang member continued, his casual tone hiding daggers underneath.

"That's—No it's not!" Josef's stutter made him sound guilty as sin. Lee Sung just turned back to his computer, clearly wanting no part of whatever this is.

Nearly a mile away at the mansion, the first Cliffhanger burst through the front doors like his pants were on fire. In the main hall, Zack and Zeke lounged on an expensive couch that probably cost more than most people's cars, controllers in hand as they battled digital enemies on a massive TV screen.

"Sirs!" the messenger gasped. "Where's Lady Veronica?"

"Huh?" Zeke barely glanced away from the screen, his thumbs dancing over the buttons. "Yeah, she's in the back room with Hugo. Try not to interrupt unless someone's bleeding."

In the private lounge, Veronica sat rigid as a steel beam while Hugo sprawled across an oversized couch like a king holding court. Two stunning women draped themselves over him like human accessories, their giggles making Veronica's eye twitch like a nervous tic.

"Tomorrow's supposed to be sunny," Hugo told his companions, his voice smooth as honey. "Perfect for surfing."

"That sounds amazing!" one woman cooed.

The other looked worried, biting her lower lip. "But I can't swim..."

Hugo's smile turned sharp as a shark's tooth. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll hold you real tight."

As the woman giggled at his words, something inside Veronica finally snapped. She shot to her feet and stalked over to Hugo like a predator closing in for the kill.

"Maybe instead of playing with your bitches," she said, not even trying to hide the venom in her voice, "you should focus on finding whoever's hunting your accountant."

"Easy there, Vika." Another eye twitch. "We've got surveillance all over her house. When someone comes sniffing around, we'll know about it." His carefree smile could have powered a small city. "No harm in having a little fun while we wait."

"These people have stayed invisible despite all our security," Veronica shot back, her words dripping with mockery. "If you think intel's going to walk through that door on a silver platter, you're living in a fantasy."

The door exploded open like a bomb had gone off. "Boss! Boss!" The breathless Cliffhanger stumbled in, practically vibrating with excitement. "I've got intel on someone looking for Megan!"

The room went dead quiet. You could have heard a pin drop in the sudden tension. The messenger froze, confusion written all over his face as nobody reacted the way he'd expected.

Veronica slowly turned back to Hugo, her smile colder than winter. "Fuck you," she said, then stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the walls.

"Uh... what just happened?" The poor grunt looked like he'd walked into the wrong movie.

Hugo chuckled, a sound like distant thunder, and rose from the couch with the slow, deliberate movement of a mountain coming to life. "Don't mind her. You were saying?"

"Oh! Right!" The messenger snapped back to attention. "We were at the mining equipment warehouse when this old miner showed up asking about Megan Olive!"

Hugo's smile never wavered, steady as the sunrise. "Did he ask where she lives?"

"Yes sir, he sure did." The Cliffhanger beamed, impressed by his boss' intuition.

"Where is he now?"

"My partner's keeping him busy at the warehouse, waiting for your orders."

Hugo's smile transformed, becoming something altogether more dangerous—like a shark that had just caught the scent of blood in the water. "Tell him to bring our friend to me. I think it's time we had a nice, friendly chat."