I dragged myself up from the grass, feeling significantly better than I had before. “We’ve got a live one over here,” someone shouted. Two people rushed over to me, looking like they were prepared for a fight. “It’s okay, he’s a Mystic,” one said. That was probably one of the few times I was thankful for my freak-glove. I found the strength to stand up, finally taking a moment to check my surroundings. The ship was still resting quietly in the same spot as before. None of the dead had been moved from their positions despite the fact that there were probably twenty or so members of the Guard walking around. “He’s the Mystic that stopped them!” one of the guys hollered, rushing over to me, “You should have seen the blast he sent at them. Never seen anything like it before.” “Is that true, son?” another guy spoke from behind me. I turned to see a very decorated member of the Guard. I never understood their ranking system, but I was quite certain this grey-haired guy was a leader of some sort. “They killed my dad.
