Even Heroes Have The Right To Bleed Novels & Stories

Next, his eyes, his mouth, his nose, and his ears began to bleed. He eventually bled to death. The camera recorded the scene coincidentally. It was enlarged and displayed on the huge screen. The entire scene fell silent at once and not a peep could be heard. In everyone’s eyes, there was only Zayn in the meantime. At this very moment, Zayn was God. He had defended the honor of Rheasia all by himself and startled the numerous fighters from powerful countries. An incident like this had never taken place before in the history of Rheasia, yet Zayn had now made history.

I’ve never seen him bleed before… The realization hits harder than it should, settling in my chest like a stone. All this time, I’ve watched him move through the world like some untouchable force—dealing death, commanding power, bending reality to his will. But this... this is undeniable proof of his mortality. Proof that beneath all that power and control, he bleeds just like anyone else. He could have died. All that blood... he could have... “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“That child. Her courage is remarkable. She’s a hero.” “Heroes sucks,” said Briane suddenly, his face looking like a blank sheet. “They always sacrifice themselves for others. And then what? They die! They haven’t even thought of the people they would left behind.” “That’s not true, Mr. George.” Mr. Heirt made his way to Briane’s stretcher, his footsteps echoing in the somber silence reigning in the tent. “If they are not to exist, the world will be in chaos, with no one to save it. They must be acknowledged. Just because they sacrifice themselves doesn’t mean they’re not thinking of those they’ll be leaving. In fact, they are the ones that prompted to fight despite knowing they’ll die.”

“A noble answer. And incomplete.” He moved again, not attacking this time, but invading space. Every step forced me to adjust, to yield ground without retreating. My muscles screamed restraint. “You fight to preserve a future,” he said. “We fight to enforce inevitability.” I staggered as his presence pressed down, not physically but existentially. The weight of centuries. Of certainty. “You bleed,” he continued calmly, “because you still believe survival is earned through effort.” His fingers tapped my sternum once. “We bleed because we choose to remember what it cost.”

My arm felt as if it had been replaced with a bar of iron and I could barely move my weary limbs. “Goodbye, cruel world.” I thought to myself. Around me, novices tore apart their victims and I was secretly proud of them – even though they weren’t actually in control of their own bodies. Ally sliced open her opponent’s jugular and was rewarded with a fountain of blood and the soldier who had marched before me cut down two foes at once, never revealing his hesitation. My heart cried out for my allies, praying that they would win this battle. Me? I was useless but I was determined to go out with a bang.

I couldn’t let that happen. Slowly I cleared the tears off of my eyes. I was my mother’s daughter. I was my father’s soldier. These boys are a piece of cake compared to the wars I’ve won for my ungrateful father. The ardents were my teammates and if there was anything Bloodrage ever taught me. It was to never leave your own behind. My breath suddenly hitched as I watched one of the brothers, the one with a chopped hand zoom from the shadows, his good arm raised in silent rage. A thick blade glinted under the light.

And Crimson was bleeding before the first battle even began. ....

Zade mocks as he raises his own hands. Zion looks down, sadness etched across his face, a child who, despite it not being his age to be thrown into this was trying to help and do the right thing. Blinding light from their auras lights up the sky and for the first time, I hesitate. In the end, it came down to this… Blood against blood… In the forms of families, siblings… twins… mates… All against one another in a game of kill or be killed. But for what?

"Because this storm... It's going to be a wild ride." He didn't respond, but the tension in his body eased almost imperceptibly. His thumb continued its steady caress, a silent acknowledgment of the battle that had just shifted. The primal urge still pulsed between us, a potent, undeniable current, but now it was tempered with a shared understanding, a silent truce brokered not by surrender, but by mutual recognition. The night was far from over, and the path ahead was uncertain, but as I stood there, locked in his gaze, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: this dance had just begun, and I, Justice, wasn't sure if I could survive this or not.