Sovereign of the Karmic System

Of all the domains in existence, none was as vast and in possession of as many consumed universes as the Domain of War.. and for a good reason.

Due to the inherently violent nature of both the aspect of War and its champions, most civilizations which fell under its influence had no choice but to fall under the control of warmongers-People who, through the constant pursuit of violent resolution, had led their subjects, as well as the territories they controlled, to the path of total destruction.

This violent nature was the reason why the rate of consumption of the universes under the domain of War was the highest within the multiverse, as well as what caused the necessity of the domain to constantly expand, and find new universes to exploit while the older ones recovered. However, while most of these consumed universes lost their importance due to their non-productive state, that did not mean they were uninhabited.

Forced to experience the destructive effects of tens of thousands of years of uninterrupted world-ending wars, these universes' survivors would be left with the task of rebuilding their civilizations.. Regardless of whether they were destroyed by revolutions against crazed tyrants, nuclear holocausts, or the decisions of foolish governments.

In one universe such as these, was a relatively small planet shrouded in a coat of grey. A color not caused by the dullness of the planet's elements, but due to the immense clouds of smoke that circled its atmosphere, and that merged into the clouds with the sole purposes of bloating the sun, and to fall onto the planet's inhabitants as toxic rain. The name and history of this planet had long been forgotten, as none of its culture had survived the wars.

Among this planet's destroyed cities, there was one that was widely known for its brutality. A run-down metropolis whose few survivors did what they could to survive not only the harsh conditions caused by the war, but also other survivors, as being caught unprepared meant living the sorry life of a slave, or worse, ending up in someone's plate.

-----

"Keep running! Don't stop!" Yelled a young woman dressed in a dirty blue-colored tracksuit. She, along with several more individuals, was currently running through the narrow alleys of the concrete jungle in an attempt to avoid their pursuers, who, just a corner behind, appeared to them as a cluster of shades, yellow colored lights, and excited hoarse voices.

Unfortunately, while experienced enough to navigate the alleys of the destroyed city, the longer this group kept going, the more its pace decreased, as among them not everyone was well fed, or in full health. "I can't go on anymore.. I can't breathe." Pleaded a chubby man of similar age while stretching his arms forward, hoping for someone to grab them and pull him forward.

His hopes found an answer the moment a middle-aged man in military attire grabbed his backpack, which he lifted alongside his body with a strength that defied logic, relieving him of a portion of his weight and allowing him to resume running.

For several more minutes the group gave all they had to escape a pursuit that never seemed to come closer. One that seemed to have finally come to an end the moment the group of survivors stumbled upon a tall building surrounded by large piles by rubbles.

From behind them, no sounds could be heard anymore, a detail which suggested that the party that was chasing them until now, might have given up on their pursuit. Yet, the group did not dare go back, as the path they had taken, albeit long and familiar, had no detours, and would have taken the group right back to the people they had just managed to escape from.

With no alternative, the group decided to enter the building, where they believed they could hide and rest before trying to find a secondary exit that would lead them out of this labyrinth of concrete, metal bars, and broken glasses.

"They are not following us anymore.. They must have thought we've gone out of reach." Whispered the man in military attire while leaning against the side of the building's entrance. His eyes pointed at the pathway they had just arrived from, as he scouted for signs of any pursuer.

Exhausted, the cubby young man took his backpack off, then slouched onto the ground next to the others. "I can't run anymore.. My lungs.. Are on fire.." he muttered while huffing and puffing. Next to him several more individuals tried to catch their breath while not bothering to hide the signs of fear on their faces.

"Coming here was an awful idea.. It's all your fault!" Said a woman in her early thirties to the girl in the blue-colored tracksuit.

The girl, seemingly uninterested by the woman's accusations, paced around the building's main hall as if trying to look for something. When she stopped, a moment later, she was standing next to a two foot long piece of rebar, which she picked up and swung in the air a few times to increase her familiarity with it. "I will go look for another exit." the girl said to the man in military attire, who was clearly in charge of her group.

As the man gave the girl a nod, she turned towards her exhausted companions, and with a serious expression, asked, "Anybody who wants to watch my back?"

Despite this girl's pleasant appearance being poorly hidden underneath the sweat that stuck her short black hair to her face, and a set of dirty clothes, she did not appear to have any degree of support within the group, whose members, except for the man in military attire, looked at her with hostility.

What had caused this hostility was not something that she had done, but who she was.

Previously a party of survivors that had formed out of necessity, these people had lived together as a group for months now, a time in which they had collected a series of awful experiences caused by this young woman's presence-A person who, due to her good looks and enviable physique, was at the center of the desires of most of the degenerates they encountered.

This occasion was no different, as the chase had been caused by the refusal of the man in military attire to hand her over as part of a bargain between their group and another regarding food and weapons.

This reality forced the girl into an awful spot, as she was aware that these people's nerves would sooner or later reach their limits, and that when that happened, they would either get rid of her, or exchange her for resources. Because of this, she had taken it upon herself to always be the most useful member of the group, as she believed that as long as she was worth more than the trouble she caused, she would keep surviving.

Unfortunately her efforts were ultimately wasted, as her actions did nothing but convince her companions that she was expected to work harder to compensate for the additional risk she caused, and that she deserved the constant berating. Of supporting her, let alone helping her with any sort of dangerous task, they had long since stopped bothering.

Already aware that nobody would offer to help, the young girl put down her backpack, and headed into one of the building's dark corridors.

As she left behind a room full of hostile murmuring, the girl walked through one dark hallway after another, until finally, several minutes later, all that was left for her to hear was silence. Finally alone with her thoughts, the girl was finally able to start observing her surroundings.

In just a moment she took notice that each door she had come upon during this exploration was either locked, or missing, with the passage being blocked by an insurmountable pile of rubble.. And while at first she did not think much of this, the longer she walked the building's corridors, the more she felt like a rat stuck in a labyrinth.

For a few more minutes the young girl made her way through several more corridors, all illuminated by the occasional flickering light, and with enough broken glass to step on to make her presence known. In her mind the hope of finding a way out was disappearing.. Yet, just as she began considering going back, the now familiar scent of toxic rain drifted through the now visible door, and reached her nostrils.

Reassured, the girl turned around and prepared to go back to report to her companions, but right before she could start walking, the loud sound of hurried footsteps came from the buildings' dark corridors.

"They found us!" The man in military attire shouted as he and the rest of the group appeared from behind a corner, rushing in her direction as fast as they could. "Start running!"

Immediately the young woman turned towards the newfound entrance and began sprinting, but, alas, her hopes of getting out of this situation alive started falling apart as she noticed a lone figure standing by the entrance.

With his appearance hidden by a full body bike armor and a gas mask, this stranger held a machine gun, which he immediately pointed at the group of fearful individuals that came running in his direction. When the young girl expected him to start shooting, however, he did not. Instead, he removed his left hand from the gun's handguard, and with it reached for something behind the door, which he then pulled on with a swift motion.

Following the man's actions, the door closest to the back entrance opened, revealing a mechanism controlled by a string that reached all the way to his left hand. With his now free hand the man pointed at the open door, inside which the young girl and the rest of the group ran into without second guessing him. Behind them, the door closed just in time to muffle the sound of shots being fired.

*Pah! Pah Pah Pah! Bratatat!*

One shot became ten, and ten became thirty. From behind the door the group of survivors could hear the noise of rounds being fired taking over their pursuers' crazed screams, indicating that these bullets were rapidly finding their targets.

After an interminable minute, the sounds of shots finally came to a halt, revealing an eerie silence that was periodically interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

*Clank* The door once again opened, revealing the figure of the man in bike armor who stared at them without uttering a word. "Come with me." He said a few moments later before turning towards the exit and walking off, not even giving the survivors a chance to respond, or to thank him.

The survivors, stuck in an unknown place that had now become the center of attention of any raider or criminal within a two miles radius, decided to follow the man. In their minds, even if they couldn't trust him yet, they would at least follow him until he would take them out of this labyrinth of rubble.

-----

For what felt like hours the group walked through alleys and edifices, until finally, they reached an enclosed area between relatively intact buildings. In it, around a hundred individuals were working on erecting walls, clearing the buildings' interiors from rubble, unloading trucks of provisions, and planting seeds on flower beds.

To the group of survivors this view appeared like a mirage, as seeing such a well organized and flourishing group within the hellish city they lived in, was no different than finding a source of water in the desert.. Yet, as stroking their eyes did nothing to change what was in front of them, they realized that what they were seeing was real.

"The yard is a bit cramped, but we make do." Said the man in biker armor before hanging his rifle strap to his shoulder, and reaching for the gas mask. He then removed it, uncovering the face of a handsome man in his early thirties. With his scruffy beard, messy brown hair, and valiant eyes, he appeared like a modern hero.. eager to rescue poor people from danger. "Feel free to occupy any empty room you find, we have water to clean yourself and food to share for dinner.. just ask any of the good people here. I would give you the tour myself, but I am busy now. We will talk later." He then added before offering a brief smile, and walking away, almost as if unwilling to suffer the burnt of the curiosity that the group of amazed survivors was oozing.

Starstruck by this man's appearance, as well as by the stable community he had taken them to, it did not take long for most of the survivors to let their guard down, and allow themselves to be taken away by one of the members of this community to wash up before supper, to which they had been invited with more kindness than they had ever seen in months.

The girl in the blue tracksuit, too used to being alert of her surroundings, looked at the soldier with suspicion. It had not escaped her attention that this hidden base was at the very end of a path that led straight into a raiders' base. How they had not been discovered yet, she could not help but find odd.

Unfortunately, be it due to fatigue, or the illusion of having found somewhere to lower his guard, the soldier decided not to entertain the girl's suspicion, and said, "I know what you're thinking.. But that guy could have killed us too if he wanted. If things don't add up, we'll leave after getting a night's rest and putting something in our stomach.. God knows we need it."

As the girl and the soldier talked, the man in bike armor observed them from a distance.. In his clear eyes a golden hue had, at some point, appeared.