Abnormals: Rise of Kronos

The sun rose for what would be the last morning the Zlona-Sintar Village would see. The village was bustling with life. Young children were playing in the cobblestone streets, their older peers were off to their day spent at the Schola. Adults were preparing for a day of work. Blacksmiths were preparing their forges, shopkeepers opened their shops, the warriors of the village were awaiting for their orders while milling about the gray stone barracks. All except one.  Deep in the woods, lying on the branch of an oak tree was a man who had seen twenty-three winters. Nothing about him really stood out. He had a round face with a square jaw and stood at 6ft 3 pale white skin, silver eyes with black hair that hung just past his small ears. For attire, he wore a hybrid of a vest and trench coat. His right arm was covered in a sleeve, his left arm exposed, his well-toned torso also exposed. The coat portion reached to the ground. He also wore a baggy white Gi bott

When Kronos woke up, he noticed he was in an infirmary, torso heavily bandaged. It was a small room, with only a few beds. He winced as pain raced throughout his body. He didn’t think he had an ounce of strength left on his body. Blazes. I can hardly move; I’m as weak as the day I was born. “ So you’re awake,” came the cold, calculating voice of Calypso. Kronos turned his head to the left to see her standing in the doorway. The Lord Commander strode into the infirmary and glanced at a nurse wearing a simple gray dress and leather boots who was writing some notes on a chalkboard.  “ Will he be able to keep fighting? He better be able to. I just bought the armor I’m wearing and I’d hate to have to get his blood on it,” She said. “ With enough rest, he should recover all of his Mana.” The nurse stared at Kronos with mild curiosity. “ That

Kronos sat in his small cement cell, staring at the floor. He didn’t know how long he has been in this cell but it felt like it had been days. Shortly after they had arrived to the Sinter Royal Island, they had been herded to a large cavern and forced inside. Afterward, they had been locked away in prison cells somehow every smaller then the cells in the arena. Kronos could stand in the middle and touch both walls by spreading his arms. Other than meals, the prisoners were not allowed to leave. Are we going to remain in this prison for the rest of our lives?  Then the door opened, and a guard walked into Kronos's cell. Instead of carrying a food tray, he hauled Kronos to his feet.  “ Move it! Lord Commander Calypso wants to talk to all of you!” Kronos was pushed out of his cell and forced to start walking through a narrow stone hallway lit by torches. Kronos noticed several stone doors that seemed to blen

“ Well then, shall I retaliate?” Menkera asked, a sinister smile spreading across his face. Kronos and Acacius tensed, a bead of sweat racing down the face of Kronos.  “ As a reward, I shall show you two my true form. Prepare yourselves to witness fear itself!” Menkera exclaimed before he began to grow. Kronos and Acacius gasped as his body grew countless crimson red hairs. No, Kronos thought, watching in horror. Those… are spiders! Menkera’s body bloated, four crimson spider legs, made entirely out of chattering, scrambling spiders burst underneath a spider bulb that formed under his waist. As Menkera continued to grow, his eyes turned into golden orbs, jet black hair, all hair on his now crimson upper body gone. Four tentacles made entirely of more crimson spiders shaped like spider legs sprouted out of his back. And his underbody… “ By the warm sands!” Acacius

The cold wind whistled as it pierced the air. It blew so powerfully it carried off away anything not tied down. The wind only made the freezing temperatures of the surrounding arctic environment even worse. The only relief Kronos had from the blistering cold was the tent he was currently in. All he had for bedding was a worn blanket that had plenty of holes. Calypso wasn't about to provide her prisoners any decent protection for the frigid environment. Kronos, Acacius, Thora, and Arai had been selected along with two dozen other prisoners to accompany Calypso and her troops on a mission. This was a common strategy for many Abnormal tribes, gather prisoners, usually sentenced to die, put them in squads, then send them into situations where death was all but guaranteed.   “ Fodder Corps!” The tribes gleefully called them. There would be no rewards for exceptional service shown in battle awaiting them, should any one of th