Axel sat on the bed trying to forget what happened today but it was still stuck in his mind. He knew he will never be the same again. He sighed as he heard his mom come back from the emergency meeting the school had authorised in order to discuss what happened and the reparations for the damages caused.
He got up and sat at his desk and opened his laptop and searched for the school shootout that happened today. The article he read said that the shootout was because of terrorists trying to cause fair in the government. But to him it felt like that was no it but he wasn't sure and definitely couldn't find answers.
Axel had to face the truth: he was weak, he was hopeless. He never told himself that but bow he was weak. Ever since his dad died, he had felt lonely. He was bullied, used and shunned. He didn't have a single friend In school.
Axel squeezed his hand thinking of his mother. She had been always been there for him when he needed her. He always wanted to provide for her ut how could he when he was like this. He slammed his fist on table in frustration and got up then laid back on his bed and was about to cry when he started having a headache.
A very excruciating one that made him nearly scream outwardly in pain. He immediately bit the blanket to suppress the pain. He could feel the pain coursing through his head , the veins bulging out of his head.
"What is happening to me?" He thought , his mind not being able to comprehend what was going on. The pain was not stopping and Axel thought he was going to die.
He suddenly felt his eyelids closing and before he could think again, everything went dark and silent.
Axel found himself in a garden , the scene so unique it gave off a aristocratic vibe. Lush trees ripening with fruits, bushes neatly trimmed and well kept and the lawn looked like it just was mowed.
The first thought that registered in axel head was: "Am I in heaven?"
"No, you're not" a voice called out and Axel looked in the direction of the voice to see an old man sitting at a table sipping a cup of tea. Axel's eyes fluttered open, and he saw his great-grandfather, a man he had only heard stories about, standing in front of him. The old man's eyes seemed to bore into Axel's soul.
Axel's great-grandfather stood tall, his silver hair slicked back, revealing a prominent forehead and piercing blue eyes that seemed to bore into those he met. His broad shoulders and strong physique, though tempered by age, still commanded respect. The deep lines etched on his face told stories of hardship, experience, and perhaps a hint of regret.
As he spoke, his eyes sparkled with warmth, yet a dash of sadness lingered, as if they had witnessed the best and worst of humanity. His voice was low and measured, conveying authority and gravitas. Despite his age, he exuded confidence, his presence filling the room with an unspoken weight.
In his tailored suit, with a crisp white shirt and pocket watch chain, he embodied refined elegance, a testament to his family's wealth and status. Yet, beneath the surface, Axel sensed a complex personality - pride, regret, and wisdom intertwined, forged by a lifetime of experiences.
As their eyes met, Axel felt the weight of his great-grandfather's gaze, a sense of connection to the past, and the legacy that lay ahead.
"Axel, you come from a lineage of warriors," his great-grandfather said, his voice low and gravelly. "Our family has produced some of the greatest combatants the world has ever known. But with great power comes great responsibility, and our family has often forgotten that."
Axel's great-grandfather's eyes clouded over, and he looked away, as if gazing into the past. "Your grandfather refused to inherit the family's combat talents. He saw the darkness that had consumed our ancestors, using their abilities for material gain and personal vendettas. He wanted no part of it."
Axel felt a surge of curiosity. "Why did our family fall so far?" he asked.
His great-grandfather's expression turned somber. "We were once respected and feared. But as time went on, we became consumed by our own ambition. We used our talents to accumulate wealth and power, rather than to protect and serve. The Swift family's name became synonymous with ruthlessness and greed."
Axel's great-grandfather's gaze snapped back to him. "But you, Axel, are different. You have the chance to break the curse. You are the inheritor of our combat talents, and it's up to you to use them for good."
Axel felt a weight settle upon his shoulders. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"Use your abilities to protect the innocent, to fight for justice, and to bring honor back to the Swift name," his great-grandfather said, his eyes burning with intensity. "Don't be like me, or my son, or his son. We were all flawed, Axel. We let our ambition consume us. But you... you have the chance to redeem our family."
Axel nodded, feeling a sense of determination rise within him. "I won't let you down," he said.
His great-grandfather smiled, a small, sad smile. "I'm not worried about myself, Axel. I'm worried about you. You have the power to make a difference. Use it wisely."
Axel nodded as he found himself being transported away from the man before him. His great-grandfather gave a small smile before turning away.
As Axel's vision faded, he felt a sense of purpose he had never felt before. He knew that he had a long journey ahead of him, but he was ready to face it head-on. He would use his abilities to make a difference, to bring honor back to the Swift name, and to prove himself worthy of his great-grandfather's legacy.